Journey means real experience. Real emotions. You must go out, struggle, and in the course of your experience you will feel real gratuity, real awe, witness achievements greater than your own, fall in love; and it is of real emotions, real experience that builds a real self. 

-Professor R. Byrnes


keep making me laugh.

Why is it that I can only write like this while I am sad. The state, happiness, does it exist? Becoming weary as I fight against myself; I'm caught below a blanket of snow, and there are papers, textbooks, and arguments weighing me down. 
Pull my bones out.
I think I'd break every bone in my body just for you.

This is not all I am, I must find myself, over and over again.

“You know she is young, she is pretty.”
-Anna Karenina


it could be.


It's hard to love. Hard to love yourself in the cold winter's months. Trying to just get out of bed, organize my head. But I'm willing unravel the duvet to get out of bed/ out of my head and closer to you.

Just try.


I miss the sweet tears of literature


There is this moment (actually there are many) when I look at you and just know. I know.I know what this is, who you are, what we are, where we are going.

And then there are times where I am perturbed--no focus, chaotic,: and i know this is insane. What factor, what reason do I have to blame? Is it an absence? I feel it, if so. We are fortunate for this. The things that you say: are filling my heart: like oxygen does lungs.


you are real.

Skin on skin our bodies lying side by side this is where it all begins and the morning moments I wish to never end—do they have to?

The sun leaks into your room, as we slowly awake unalloyed & elated to each other’s presence.

I hear your first words of the morning, “I am completely in love with you.”

I feel your arms holding me tight; your soft kisses on my neck, my ear, and my cheek.

Are we awake- is this our dream?

You are real, and I feel you next to me.