Hidden Treasures

Sometimes I wish that I had a deeply sad love song to sing.
There is this hidden treasure in sadness.
A familiar beauty,
Genuineness, vulnerability, reachability.

Perhaps I just need to dig a bit deeper,
On that place marked with an X.
You know that place, that you know exists,
But dare not go, for the fear of what lies beneath?

Sadness, like that stranger that you meet
Who looks frighteningly familiar,
But you dare not approach them,
For the fear of them not being so strange after all,
but someone you worked really hard to forget.

Sometimes I wish I had an utterly sad love story to tell.
Then I looked over at my shelf filled with books,
Noticing that one book in the furthest corner.
You know the one, whose title is buried beneath collected dust,
Pages, home to various critters,
Delicately decorated with cobwebs,
That one book that you dared never to open again.

Stories untold, songs unheard, treasures buried.

via Daily Prompt: Treasurep<

Soul Mates

I have probably written a thousand love poems, but never one in ode to you. By my side you have been, like my shadow…or better yet like my very own beating heart…because not once have you ever disappeared, especially not in the dark.

Sometimes, I think back on memories of you, how we met, how we laughed, how we changed clothes in fifth grade, trying to be fast…but got caught… lied to boys about our names…. Lexus, Porsche, and Mercedes, because we were triplets, sisters,friends all the same.

Or that one time….. when we stopped talking…stubborn I was, sad, depressed, lonely. At 17 I learned that, broken friendships, caused heartache too. That the love of a sister, surpasses the love of a boy, so if I hurt when he left, I’d rather die when it came to you.

And now…pushing thirty, WE are, and though life gets in between and our days of hanging are far and few…when we are together the world disappears and it’s just me and you .

I’m fourteen again. Fourteen was a good age.

How grateful I am for you, how fulfilling you have made my life, how all of my best memories, all include you. I can not promise a lot of things, for the fear that I may break them.

What I can promise is that no matter what the world throws our way…we experienced true love, many times over… and will many times again.

The love of sisters…. aren’t even comparable to boyfriends ❤

Before the rest of the world dare try to define you by their subpar standards of beauty, let me shine light upon who you really are,  have always been, will always be.

Skin matching the earth, sprinkled with chips of Gold. Hair dancing with the trees, bound  to reach the clouds. Spirit of pure strength,  decedent of Kings, Queens, and warriors. 

You were created in both strength and beauty. Many will envy and attempt to diminish your light, but fly high Queen, we were made for this.

Frame

1374814_847828495257848_3895766661420384949_n There were three, who stood as one.

Brotherhood.

Playing Jeopardy

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I was once a whole person.

Full of life, freedom, exploration.

I met a guy.

Decided to play jeopardy.

Fell in love, gave him, not pieces, but all of me.

Ideas of us excelling, my whole self now extending into one, with him.

Playing jeopardy…

 

I lost.

Lost my sense of self, well being, even lost my way.

He, selfishly, jeopardizing US, with her

but really  only jeopardizing  me.

See, he walked away, more full than he had walked to…

because he took everything in me along with him.

Fucking jeopardy.

 

 

 

via Daily Prompt: Jeopardize

Photography is like poetry for the eyes.