sunspots on her ear

I had a dream that I was on the tip of that dandelion you blew, making a wish that made me smile. the feathered tidbits flew into the sky and danced and tickled your face, and I landed on your ear. I went down as if on a slide, playing connect-the-dots with your three cute sunspots. as your hand gravitated towards your itch, I threw my body on your dimple and felt like I was in a garden because your cheeks were rosy. my mouth curled into a side smile -- hidden -- and I looked up in awe at your two pools of aqua-colored eyes. I saw dolphins leaping, and my mind was overtaken by nostalgic memories. I shielded my own eyes as copper streaks in your hair glimmered up above, masked in golds as well as bronze. for one reason or another your smile recedes and I find refuge by lounging on your nose, causing your eyes to cross. I laugh silently and find myself placed on your palm, leaning in sheepishly to kiss you. I know you are bigger, but I close my eyes anyway.

then they opened, the dream was over but there you were

hovering above me with a smile."aw, you fell asleep?"

I love upside down kisses.

oh and I'm feeling

directionless yes, but that's to be expected
and I know that best.
-T&S

soil, soil.


I feel like everyone has such great expectations that I can't always live up to. I feel like I am a rope that is being tugged on, one ligament at a time. My fibers are frazzled, my ends are split. I try to divide myself evenly but find I'm not gifted with balance. Some people I coil around protectively but there are others I'd rather ensnare or whip fiercely. There are a selective few I bind myself to, committing to them eternally and asking them humbly to never let me go. Other times...I just want the game to be over and for everyone to let me fall to the ground.

I had a dream

and there was one thing that stuck out in my mind.

"I want a girl with dust in her eyes"

In the dream I was in a classroom. Instead of challenging the symbolism, my classmates laughed at me... or whoever was in my perspective. I never see myself in my dreams. Anyway, I woke up and couldn't shake the quote.

Possible imagery/

Dust:

1. a low or humble condition

2. disturbace; turmoil

3. debris; junk

alt...

throw dust in someone's eyes: to mislead; deceive:

So far it all seems so negative. The most in depth I got was that I wanted someone humble, but who still expresses their grief. I don't want someone misleading however, so the dream has me stumped. Why are all of my dreams so strangely abstract? It's always too early for symbolism.

endurance slipping

I can't help that I'm human, I can't help that I succumb to petty feelings of jealousy. But am I wrong? We are practically spoon fed the concept of love as a man and woman from childhood, so in theory I am the abnormal one. In my heart, however, I feel I should not be at blame. It's just the way I am. I believe I was born this way, I didn't randomly choose a lifestyle that would create such awkward complications. As a Leo I am the one who craves attention, but within a relationship I naturally wish to shower my significant other with adoration. This little game of simple touches or intimate glances is barely enough to sustain me within the public eye, I wish so much that I could proclaim or even flaunt my feelings openly. We go out and I see dozens of heterosexual couples holding hands or kissing each other on the spot and it's like my heart is being squeezed by an anxious grasp. I become so green with envy but I merely bite my lip and look upon her with as much love as possible, but even then I hold back because I do not want to make her feel uncomfortable or raise too much suspicion. I hear stories of homophobia or abuse constantly, but usually I keep it at the back of my mind because I live my life without thinking of myself as different. It is not until a demonstrative situation occurs that I must confront what I really am: a taboo. Then the anger settles in, the frustration over such ignorance. I wish that I could go on a date with my girlfriend and hold her hand or kiss her cheek, I wish we didn't have to sneak or hide our intimacy like it's something we should be scared or ashamed of. I feel like if there is a God, they are the only with the right to judge. I wish people didn't naturally fear difference, I wish they thought individually and adapted an open mind as well as a heart capable of unconditional love. I fear I will always have to hide a part of who I am, and it's not fair but it's how it has to be. I have to be considerate, withdrawn, polite, or whatever bullshit excuse you fancy. I'm tired of having to hide, having to be quiet or not completely honest, I'm tired of the judgments and accusations. The tears are coming and they won't stop. Why is it so wrong? I'm human and love comes naturally. I can't help that she has a vagina. A part of me wants to say sorry, but when I think that I get angry because I feel that there is nothing to be sorry for. It's not wrong to be in love. It's not wrong to want to express it. I'm not a freak, I don't have a disease, there's nothing wrong with me. I'm practically clutching my sides and repeating these words like a cooing chant.

I'm sorry, I'm not sorry.

I want to be myself but I'm afraid to.

That's so twisted.

Not fair, not right, not fathomable.

I pray that things will change

but I don't believe they will.

Life will never be that easy.

I save all my wishes for you.

Ever eyelash or dandelion,

Every time 11:11 hits the clock,

Each time a star shoots across the sky,

Or when I just feel like wishing.

Most of the time, though...

I only wish everything will be okay.

inner feral child

Everyone has primal instincts. Everyone has outbursts of emotion where their teeth clench and their toes dig into the dirt. Arms flail, words become distorted or replaced by something less human, and savagery is adapted. Anger will always be within me, dormant but not inactive. No one suspects because I am the quiet one, the laughing one, the child who is so cutely naive. I smile so easily and the tears never come, but that doesn't mean I don't wish I could break. That's right: wish. I have a complex with weakness and cannot stand to have an audience when I cry. Even my presence urks me. Sometimes I wish I could lock myself in a white room, pull down the blinds, and take a deep breath. I'd pick up paint cans and make a lovely memoir to Jackson Pollock, embracing my inner feral child.

vent complete.

like puzzle pieces

you just fit with me. I was worried that our noses would clash and our first kiss would be awkward, but your lips fell onto mine with ease. like a magnet I am drawn to you, my shoulders rise and you seize my lungs and kidnap my breath for the longest moment imaginable. I zone out for an instant, forgetting I exist but what brings me back to reality is the fact that you are real; you are mine, I am yours, and you and everything else are things worth living for. I realize how grateful I am suddenly, how much I've changed, and how I feel like being with you has put me in the right direction in life. I feel content, loved, happy. I can't seem to ever get enough of you. the way the morning light hits your eyes, the way your mouth widens into an adorable toothy grin, that scent you wear, or how my skin seems to melt into yours by one little touch. it's never too soon when you're happy, that's my philosophy. time passes by and my feelings for you only strengthen more, if possible. I don't believe in perfect, but I believe what we have has perfection in our grasp. I love you.

the layers are peeling

my head is positively reeling

hung back, squinted eyes appear dazed

smiles are now contagious and amazed

by how easy this is.

to my protector.

jaded eyes are always watching me.
never judging, she is my protector.
she is the lioness acting on instinct,
the world is her prey and I am her offspring.
it seems I'm never old enough to leave her patrolling stare.
there is warmth behind the predator's exterior however,
and she can't help that her body is stiff.
she's learned to keep one eye open
but her heart is always there for me.
shimmering with gold, I look up to her always.
we are unique.
she is the yin to my yang
and we are closer even as opposites.
she makes me feel the warmth of my own sun
and I return the favor with moonlight.
our lungs fill with laughter together
and we exhale with a mutual smile.

she has always been there
and I need to learn that my protector isn't made of steel.
those jaded eyes tell me words are hanging on her lips,
but I need to be the initiator this time.

my sister,
I'm sorry.
I love you.