I'm an aries with anxiety.
I write fantasy, poetry, memories, and thoughts.
There's something so whimsical about the winter season; there is such beauty in it. The frost is so lovely; I adore the way it decorates every window in stain glass brilliance and how it's sparkly elegance fuses with the water and flora; leaving nothing left untouched by it's icy embrace.
My favorite chunk of time in the year is late summer to winter, you know why? It's because of all of the fun things and beautiful memories I’ve built around these times. Like in summer, our picnics on the biggest hill in the city when the sun was at its golden hour or the long road trips to see your favorite band play, where you listen to good music and stop to take pictures every five minutes. I remember driving around the city at night with all the windows down and my friends all crammed over capacity in the back of my car, our laughs echoed in the streets and I’d never been so free. I love the big bon fires you do at the end of summer. Ice cream dates where you get to sit on the roof and watch those gorgeous pink and orange sunsets. There’s so much to love about those last summer days, when it's cool at night and the sun is shuffling through the leaves in the trees. They are filled with the perfect sun for getting a tan down at the river, go tubing at the lake, BBQs and cookouts with your family and your skin always seems to smell a little tropical no matter how much you shower. The summer time is amazing but for me personally they are more than lake days and camping trips. They are blindingly wonderful summer loves, playing grounders with your friends at midnight on an old school playground, climbing up the cut banks to watch the city, playing pool and laughing at how awful everyone is at the game. It a time for memories and a time to have your head in the clouds, summer time will always hold a special place in my heart.
Dear, Future Husband
I can remember the first night I met you. Funny, my head wasn't all the way there. It was in the clouds, high on my new found freedom. I remember you were the life of the party, the one making everyone laugh, the one holding an adventurous spirit between your teeth. At the time I remember thinking he'd chew me up and spit me out, better steer clear of him. As time went on you seemed to be always there, playing video games on the couch, filming at the skate park, talking to me at that lame party I got dragged to and I grew to call you a friend.
Anxious and Sad
I feel like my anxiety has become a fashion trend for people who want to seem quirky or alternative. That my depression has become nothing more than a way for people to express their first world problems. They don't understand why I can't sleep, can't have a quiet moment, and why medication is so terrifying to the creative mind.
In women, I like the small delicate ones, the ones who look as fragile as snowflakes. The ones with ebony black hair and that read Shakespeare. The ones who speak words as poetic as their souls and who don't belong in this world. The ones with the cold fingers and the broken hearts.
Once, there was a boy who sang sad songs and drank his troubles away. He smoked to make the pain go numb, even if it meant the rest of him felt numb, as well. He used angel dust to find the confidence he couldn’t seem to grasp on his own, and the things that kept him up at night, he would put into lyrics and strum them with cut fingers in acoustic on his guitar. I can’t believe someone like him would ever say hi to me, would ever think I’m pretty, or want to see how my mind works.
A Fleeting Thought
That girl. That girl with ice in her veins and a fire lighting her gaze. The girl made up of water lilies and summer breezes, who's hair, long and dark is embellished in butterflies of blue. She dances like fireflies and delights in sweets that fill her tongue with their nectar. An exotic, simplistic creature happy to live her life amongst the flowers, with her head overflowing with stars she matches fearlessly into the darkness for she alone is the light. That girl. She wears red on her lips to hide the missing pieces she bit, what a beautiful masquerade she plays.