Originalwork - Tumblr Posts

apricity (n.) The warmth of the sun in the winter

I have a hard time not falling into the precipice and stereotypical blame game humans seem to play,

The blades of grass tickle my skin but no belly laughs slip past my lips,

Soft clouds and fluttering lashes, I trace my fingers upon my knuckles,

Bumps and ridges, mountains and hills.

I want to blame the feeling that resides in my chest on the rolling chill,

The months pass and the seasons dwindle,

The fine line between the warm summer days and the cold winter nights split me in two,

Yet the cut is uneven.

I love the warmth but I fear of being burned,

I love being cold but yet I fear the chill,

Two sides of the same coin I constantly seem to flip,

I love the apricity, the feeling of the warmth of the sun in the winter,

But I have a hard time finding the chill in the summer.

I find a hard time seeking and grasping a balance between the two,

Without it I'm sure to fail, all things tumbling right out,

Spilling, making a mess,

I make a mess.

So I stick to mopping endlessly, soaking up and wringing out the coarse strings into the bucket only to dip them again,

It is a never-ending cycle, the process,

The chore,

Myself and my tasks.

So I sit behind a wall of denial,

I sit while others blame the winter while I blame the sun,

Blame the way inconsistencies mess with my head,

Blame the way the blankets of green fail to be a haven.

Blame the way I feel even when blanketed in the warmth of the earth and the delicate hug of life is supposed to alleviate that feeling,

Bumps and ridges, mountains and hills,

What a chore,

But I must climb.

An original stiry im eorking on abt an undead woman falling in love with her mortician. Co made with emerson ofc! Its called undead

If we will ever come to a point where goodbye is inevitable, I will not ask you to teach me how to forget. Instead, I will ask you to show me how to remember. We made so many beautiful memories together, it's a shame to erase them all just because we have to part, and can no longer go back to the beginning to fall in love again. No, no matter how much it will hurt, I won't ask you to teach me how to forget. I will walk all the paths we've trodden and remember how your laughter sounded, how your fingers curled around mine, how your hair smelled under the sun, how your lips tasted. I will remember every bit of you, so when I am finally ready to let go, I can let all of you go the way I've let all the kites fly away when I was young and life was innocent and gentle and kind.

-let go,

katie, 17:30

If we will ever come to a point where goodbye is inevitable, I will not ask you to teach me how to forget. Instead, I will ask you to show me how to remember. We made so many beautiful memories together, it's a shame to erase them all just because we have to part, and can no longer go back to the beginning to fall in love again. No, no matter how much it will hurt, I won't ask you to teach me how to forget. I will walk all the paths we've trodden and remember how your laughter sounded, how your fingers curled around mine, how your hair smelled under the sun, how your lips tasted. I will remember every bit of you, so when I am finally ready to let go, I can let all of you go the way I've let all the kites fly away when I was young and life was innocent and gentle and kind.

-let go,

katie, 17:30

If we will ever come to a point where goodbye is inevitable, I will not ask you to teach me how to forget. Instead, I will ask you to show me how to remember. We made so many beautiful memories together, it's a shame to erase them all just because we have to part, and can no longer go back to the beginning to fall in love again. No, no matter how much it will hurt, I won't ask you to teach me how to forget. I will walk all the paths we've trodden and remember how your laughter sounded, how your fingers curled around mine, how your hair smelled under the sun, how your lips tasted. I will remember every bit of you, so when I am finally ready to let go, I can let all of you go the way I've let all the kites fly away when I was young and life was innocent and gentle and kind.

-let go,

katie, 17:30

Pretty cool concept to preserving the authenticity of the home’s exterior. Hope to find this during my time off in BA

Poetry Collection : Anthology 1 , Volume 2 "Mushrooms"

Fleeting fungi cover the forest's foliage,

now autumn, mushrooms sprout in

reclaiming what was once superior,

nevertheless, forgetting any of their sacrifices.

Yet to their hereditary, circles of such

express history and tradition

from spores succumb stories and success

forever encased in extensive exploration

The crack of sticks, the rip of elder bark

and the deteriorated corpse of an apex fox,

all engulfed by the everlasting enigma fuelled by death.

Fields of mushrooms march onto the moon

soon made malignant by autumn's moratorium

Slowly, the slivers of gills and secrete and slime

before commiting to another year on a waiting list.

Poetry Collection : Anthology 1, Volume 3 "Afternoons"

Loving lavenders and dandelions dance in my head,

whatever the reason, regardless, only observing is necessary.

Sublime subways and painted layers of cement

tend to bore spirits.

Instead, insightful serenades of a spring's soul

are all that is needed to thrive.

Clouds like puffs of a windmill's effort

Skies mirroring silvered lakes, splotched in wrinkles of olden traditions

All that is balanced, peaceful, or even enticing,

may invite a simple pleasure

in only those, a pleasant heart can enjoy.