Response- Ceramic Pink Pot

And I do think of you with every cup I pour. I think of the night you gave me the ceramic pink pot and how we danced together in the kitchen of your old house before going to dinner. And as I pour milk into my tea, just a dab, I think about the morning before when you made me breakfast while I swept the floors and wiped down the counters, helping you clean up our mess. But when I reach into the cabinet for the honey I think of the few times you called me your honey, and maybe it was because you thought I was sweet.. but now I only feel bitter. I don’t sweeten my tea anymore. In fact, I’ve gotten into the habit of steeping my tea too long and drinking it anyways; I’ve become accustomed to bitter aftertastes and forgotten whats supposed to taste good. And I’ll think about the book you gave me that night, and how you may never read the pages I’ve filled inside it.These things will cross my mind with each cup I pour, but I’ll also think about how the scorching steep would feel on my skin. I’d compare it to the emotional pain you’ve burdened me with and pour it on myself hoping that maybe I’m no longer numb, but I’d still feel nothing. 

I’d rather not dream at all

In my slumber
its your hands around my waist

your fingers tracing my skin

your lips kissing away my pain 

and its your voice whispering all good things to me

but then i wake up

and its your hands that are absent 

your lips on a can of cheap beer 

instead of passionately placed on mine

and its your voice saying to me the things I’d rather not hear

are these dreams or are they nightmares?

Drowning

Every new daylight

patches up the sleepless night before it

and with every passing moment

that i haven’t heard the familiar ‘I love you’

i sink deeper and deeper  

into a pool of my own hurt

and i can’t catch my breath 

so i keep sinking

and i let my body rest unmoving 

because maybe drowning

will feel better than this hurt

or maybe i’m expecting you to pull me back to surface

A break

Loss has seemed to take a big toll in my life in the past 8 months more than it ever has before. These months contain the most hurt i’ve ever felt, the most tears i’ve shed, and my most physically and mentally exhausting days. Not only have I lost my best friends and those closest to me, I lost sight of my God, and i’ve lost sight of myself. I don’t remember how to love myself, and I plan to love me as much as I used to. I don’t remember how not to shut people out, and I want to let people in. I don’t remember how to love my life and everything around me and I want to remember all of these things. 
The past 8 months have also been the most i’ve ever loved. I gave somebody my all and loved them with my whole being. But they also left. Loving people can hurt just as much as losing them. And now I have got to love myself and put myself before others, even if it makes me seem a little selfish. 

I’ve been the loneliest I think I have ever been, and in a bit of a funk. I haven’t photographed anyone or anything in over a month, or picked up my guitar more than 3 times and I need time. Who knows, I may take more pictures and write more than ever during this small hiatus. I will still update my blog, and take pictures of my adventures and friends, but, it may only be seldom as I try to fix myself, see my friends and find my Jesus again.