Woman of Conviction

I am a woman who already knows what she wants. I can’t sit at my kitchen table waiting when I’m in a state of perpetual motion.


Half-Baked Innocence

Today I smiled at the thought of deserts consuming entire cities.

It’s not up to you to fix what you did not break. It’s not up to you to chase what does not want to be followed nor to lose your peace for those with no peace in their hearts.

What you’re meant to do is to live well and freely without shackles imposed on you by others. You are meant to cut the threads connecting their words to your head so that you may think truly without their hidden agendas influencing your actions.

You don’t deserve a half-baked innocence.

What the Pressure Creates

Baby, you are a whirlwind. You are a shiny pinwheel representing youth and innocence. Did you ever imagine that you would recreate yourself again and again? Are there traces left of her and if so, in which deepest parts of you do you house her?

Now songs are no longer meant for lovers, they’re your words which hold you within their syllables. You are now a naturally molded piece of obsidian—from heat and fury you shine pitch black. Nothing has ever been more gorgeous.

Missing the Importance of Things

I miss writing.

There were days in which I would enjoy inspiration from the smallest of things, those were the days in which I was the happiest. When I’m sad though, I can not find the answers to my problems and I cannot breathe through my words. Most of them tend to be nonexistent at that point and it’s such a shame. Those words were what kept me going, they let me know that the end of my struggles was near– I kept walking.

I ended up at a fork in the road and did not know where to go. I had a terrible sense of direction because all that I wanted was to find solace in one of the main things that I loved. However, I had long lost that precious jewel that I spent so long pining after and molding into something that I could fit into, that could fit into me. So I was alone.

It was quite comical that things were unclear, I understood them so well, but yet there was no movement. It was a sad and sweet sight, to know that there were still paths to tread on, but I felt disinterested because I knew that I would walk them alone.