Genesis,

 

Now with this ring, I promise that I’ll be
faithful and true, devoted to you through it all.
And I’ll gladly be your one and everything
right by your side, a shoulder when you cry if you fall.
And I love you more with every day that ends,
it’s like I’m falling in love over and again.

You’re everything that my life’s been missing
and now I can’t believe this is happening to me.
Through the good, and bad, the happy, and the sad
you won’t be away from home, you’ll never be alone
from LA to Rome.

I couldn’t dream a better life,
without you right there by my side.

Sometimes the little girl in me just breaks through and attaches herself to songs like this one, “From LA to Rome”  by Chester See. It’s mainly used for weddings and anniversary parties, because of it’s ubber-cheesiness and comments on rings and devotion. I started the quote from my favorite part in the song “Now with this ring…”; I think I love that part so much because I’m driving toward marriage with my life. Though I still cannot fathom anyone dealing with my shit for the years it takes to engage, and then the decades after through marriage, a girl can still dream.

I may have actually changed my thoughts about becoming a mother. I had a conversation with my step-grandfather, who I just call granddaddy, and I’m not sure if he knew how powerful his words struck me, but when he spoke of me being a good mother, and the beautiful power I’d feel just when that baby is born, it reminded me of his late wife, and I had to blink back tears. I miss Becky, grandmamma, a lot, especially when I spend time with him. She was litereally the center of his world, as he took care of her for most of her life due to her hearing and sight problems, and with her gone it’s like his gravity has been thrown out of whack. He was her satellite, and now, without her holding him here, I worry about him a lot. How do you live healthily through the rest of your days when your reason for being dies?

Believe it or not, I hadn’t meant for this post to seem so sad. My mood is actually the opposite: In the past five weeks, I have smiled, laughed, and thought about more positive things than I ever have in my life. And, ha, because you know me so well wordpress, you know it’s because of a boy. Well, that boy. He just gets me in ways my mother of 18 years doesn’t, and he speaks words that just leave me…baffled. How could someone feel that way about me? I mean me. Maybe I just have self-esteem issues to battle, but I adore all these things about him. Devin — that’s his name if I have not already introduced him to you — is worth going through all the bad “relationships” in the past. He is goofy and makes me laugh, he’s just a beautiful person, inside and out. Definitely out. I’m a sucker for the eyes, and his blue ones? Oy..

This has been a year of firsts for me, some completely heartbreaking, and others, like this relationship I’m on the cusp of, completely wonderful.

To my little wordpressers out there: keep your music cranked up, your hearts open, and your eyes sharp.

I love you,
amaroq.

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Someone who needs clarification.

If you enjoy an experience with someone a little too soon, that doesn’t make it wrong, but does it count as a mistake? Even if you don’t regret anything that happened, do you still consider it “moving too fast”?

I think I need to take a step back and assess my own feelings, first off. I have so much baggage that I will carry into any relationship in the future, and that baggage (example: my abandonment issues, my “slightly” protective nature) needs to be categorized and filed in the correct places before I move on. My feelings for my ex weren’t even solidifed, the good or the bad feelings, before these new ones popped up…

You see, if I am left alone with my thoughts, my mind naturally zeroes in on the thing that has been bothering me the most that day. This usually happens when I’m lying in bed wanting to go to sleep. Sucks because then I start tearing up before sleep, and it’s then impossible to go to sleep. My friends were here to distract me and cuddle me last night, so I wasn’t really alone to overanalyze everything.

But now that I layed here in my bed thinking about the really great and sometimes intense things that happened the other night, I get this weird feeling that I have to be careful. I don’t want to be careful: I want to live and truly trust someone with my happiness. But once again I’m struck with that need to be SO cautious with where I place my heart. If I seriously give up my passion to someone, completely — my virtue even? That is a big. deal. To me and to a lot of people in my life.

So tonight I’m going to turn on the TV, distract my ears and hopefully my thoughts, and then tomorrow when I’m of sound mind and clear eyes, I will give myself a reality check. How serious I plan on getting how fast, and just how mature I want/need to act in this situation.

Some might tell me: you sound like such a girl. That is probably because I am one, and despite all the shit I’ve tried to throw at my emotions to bog them down, they will always come crawling back into my conscious and either praise me or tsk-‘tsk’ at me.

I do know one thing. With you I feel more delicate and cared for. For a soft moment there, an intense but insanely sweet night, I felt safe. I even felt a little hope.  & everything in me is terrified — more than anyone can imagine — that I’m being used. I don’t want to feel that, but after a little serious thought my mind dabbled in that conclusion.

Some horrible philosopher somewhere down the line of ages said: Happiness is fleeting. What a horrible concept, and one my subconscious seems to have adopted as the motto to chant at me. But I’ll be damned if I don’t try to hold as tight as I can to that happiness.

🙂 Goodnight wordpress.

Confused.

Okay.
The school year is over, and it’s now time for us teenagers to start our full-time jobs (if we hadn’t already), get motivated, and for us graduates to prepare for college in the Fall. I feel illy unprepared for the latter — I have sent out applications, but I’m not 100% sure that I’ve met all the requirements on the main Uni I want to be accepted into.

I’m scheduled to work tomorrow, wordpress, but as for the time  I have no clue. So I have to wake up at 4am and call my manager, just in case they need me at 5am. This is going to really suck if they need me at 6 or 7am, because that gives me just enough time to fall back asleep, and wake up all over again. But that’s what I get for not calling the past three days and checking the schedule ahead of time. *shrug* The past can’t be changed.

Oh, and on a completely unrelated topic, I wanted to share a quote with you guys from a book I just finished:

The sorrowful spirit finds relaxation in solitude. It abhors people, as a wounded deer
 deserts the herd and lives in a cave until it is healed or dead.

I know it’s a little strange towards the end. The author is Kahlil Gibran, a Lebanese man from the 1950s, and he’s brilliant when it comes to imagery and loves loves loves metaphors and similes. The ‘deer’ is just an example.  The book is “The Broken Wings”

I adored this quote because it explains a little bit about me, a sorrowful spirit. I am naturally sorrowful, though I can still be happy and plenty of other adjectives at times, but I do abhor people and relax into the solitude of my room, or the woods. I always have.

Just thought it was neat how fitting this quote was for me.

“Touch”

This is my oldest poem I could find to date. September, I think.
It has been altered, edited to make it sound better, but it is still the same idea with alot of the same words:

I could feel the electricity,
through my jacket sleeve,
as I pressed my clothed hand into his,
letting this guide pull me along
to wherever he might wish.

The reluctance to drop his hand was unbearable,
but he made the first motion.

I remember my thoughts
spinning, unsure,
when he reached out to me.
Come now, he said,
and I marveled at his porcelain skin
before laying my hand in his
and following him after her.

Such a simple,
minute action
should not send me into such a hyperly aware,
smiling state.
But it did.
It was forbidden,
yet still I craved it.

“Vampire”

Oh, c’mon! You know me and you didn’t expect a vampire poem eventually?

Fanged debauch,
cunning trickster,
whom draws the very breath
of birth
— life —
from its helpless victim
after victim.

That
which does not see the difference
between the rich and the poor,
the good and evil;
at a glance, its lazy glare
only registering
warm-blooded or cold.

A thirst which cannot be quenched,
throat screaming
with delicious agony;
hands that cannot be warmed
by campfire light, or steam;
two eyes drowning in red,
blazing eternal anger,
filled to the chilled skin
with the blood and breath of its prey.

— the life of a romanticized vampire.

“They Who Do Not Know”

Wow. Yeah. This poem was kind of out of the blue — it was the Fourth of July, and after Katrina was asleep I couldn’t seem to go to sleep, so I got up and jotted this down really fast. I perfected it a little bit once I woke up. 🙂 What do you think? Should I trash it?

The starworks burst
and their colors fly,
rushing fast to their finale,
and seen to be a beauty by the eyes
that watch them die.

As she splits the evening crowd,
visions set to the sky,
she has to only lift her arms high,
to the beauty
confident and sound:

‘Just before the ideas of July,’
she declares,
her tone as icy blue
as the satin gown she wears,
‘you will all have your wishes,
your fourth of July dishes,
and (why)
you doth cry?
you haven’t a blue.’

The celebration of a distant independence
has the subtitute of mistake,
drinking,
and repentance.

And as each starwork bursts
and each color doth fly,
the sins of your present,
and the knowledge of your past,
cancel out,
leaving us all insignificant playthings
at the ends of which strings she holds.

“By the Starlight”

I love poetry at this point. :)!

The stars blink at me from their heavenly canvas.
They are lighthouses to guide me,
flashing beacons millions of years older than us all.

I watch one flutter and streak
across the pitch blackness,
and disappear without a word.

I fantasize that someone, somewhere,
maybe here on Earth,
or out on some undiscovered planet,
watched that flame die out with me.
It makes me feel somewhat less alone.

Ah, and there is another!
One more joyous kinship drawn together by the night sky.
I marvel at their beauty.
I admire nothing but open.

 

This poem was actually one I typed out on my phone and saved to my drafts a couple months ago. I like it because of it’s “star-crossed” tone. So this isn’t exactly my best work, but is another one of my little creations I wanted to share with you all. If anyone is even reading this anymore 🙂

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