I love you

“Text me when you’re home.”
“Call if you’re scared when you’re alone.”
“Tell your family I say hello.”
“What’s the answer?” Even though I know.
“I like your hair that way.”
Listening to every word you say.
“Let’s decide together.”
“Wow babe you really are clever.”
“My arm is fine, it’s not asleep.”
“Turn my phone on so I hear it beep.”
“I’ll help you with those.”
I notice you in your news clothes.
“You look beautiful girl.”
Knowing you’re without makeup, your hair without curl.
The truth is that we’re attached to a phrase.
One that gets cliché in some ways.
I’ll say it still, but I’ll say these too.
These are all the ways I say that “I love you.”

- CrW

Wonderwall

A year from now, you’ll be nothing more than just
another ghost of the slowly slipping past. And even
though I’ll have nothing to remember you by, I know
somehow—everything will remind me of you.

There’ll be no old phone conversations to go through at night
since you have never really been one for texting,
and there’ll be no old pictures to keep in my wallet
since we have never really been one for the cameras, either.

Like a ghost, there’ll be no traces of you ever being here. But
will never forget the feeling of your hand gently squeezing mine,
or the soft weight of your chin resting snugly atop my head, or
the thoughtfulness of your knee brushing mine beneath the table.

Like a ghost, I know you’ll continue to hunt me. Even as I feel the
lights of a completely different city burn bright against my eyelids,
still, I’ll see the faint silver moonlight and the warm suburbian glow
that would illuminate your sharp profile as we made our way home. 

A year from now, as I’ll stand amidst the bustling boulevards,
with all these noises insistently ringing against my ears—as the
anxiety kicks in, and I realize how far away I am from home, I know
the memory of your voice will be the only one that calms me.

And somehow, I’ll be thankful I wasn’t one to fall too quickly.
for had these feelings gotten any deeper, had you been more than
just a friend—maybe, just maybe, it would have been enough to
make me stay. Enough to make me put my dreams on hold for you.

(c.c.)

Endless.

In this
holy war,
I’ve watched you
young and hopeful,
old and alone,
because
you pick your battles
carefully and don’t
need anyone else
to die for you
to know your heart
is worth it.

It is not
the who or why
that counts
in goddamn armageddon,
it is where and when
you learn to escape
yourself and
your god because
no one believes
in you more
than you and
these shitty
self love
metaphors.

ASA BRANCA

Soft, simple melody, attracts
memories of other times,
that do not return ever.

Square dark, we stopped.
Just lit stage,
beyond the strawman.

Music loud and sound,
reverberates beautiful and strong.
Reminding also remains strong.

Children dance and sing,
adults, Dour, just listen.
And they complain about
the children’s noise.

These …  just not mind.
We continue to listen and
relive many many memories.

~zd

zdspOtted the other zdmOtiOn blog
zdspOtted a new look on the photo
zdspOtted experimental photography

Distance

Distance is all about consistence.
If you’re far away from someone you love,
It’s all about rising above.
Above them going out, and to things without you.
It’s about realizing what you have will remain true.
Learning that even if your phone doesn’t beep, Your mountain of love is still just as steep.
Knowing that your girl will tell off that creep,
Being able to be at peace when you go to sleep.
Distance can break something in an instance.
Continue to believe that their love is in abundance.
Remember you are with this person for a reason.
Keep loving them through every season.
It’s hard, distance, it makes us rely on communication.
But if you listen with your heart, it doesn’t matter the location.

- CrW

I. “he will be a god.”
“do you understand?”
“yes.”
yes.

II. you are ephemeral; your life a fleeting flicker
he is eternal;
his lungs will draw breath eons after yours cease with a final shiver

III. you are burning, burning, burning
he is the fire that scorches your skin
he is the cool water in which you swim
your hands, blistered, reaching for the sun
you will gladly turn to ash, to be his chosen one

IV.  "what are you thinking about?“
you.  always.
"nothing.”

V. his golden hair, his shining smile, his lyre-like laugh
this and this and this
juggling figs, long summer swims, looking up to find his eyes fixed upon you
this, and
this, and
this

VI. “do you want to be a god?”
“not yet”

VII. the fates will be cruel
together, you will face misfortune after misfortune
but: together
even the fates cannot change that which is decided

VIII. he is your reason
you are his

IX. you know him
you will always know him
by his breath as it stirs the air,
by the soft padding of his feet upon the earth,
by the quickening behind your ribs when his glance meets yours

X. you will love him
you will lose him
you will follow him unto the ends of the earth
it is certain
— 

ten years in love; part I  (h.m.)

ten years in war; part II (coming soon)

all quoted sections from The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

Fall in love with a poet.

Because they will give
Their hearts to you.

Because they will compose
Sonnets in your name.

Because they will love
Your soul and spirit.

Fall in love with a poet.

Because there is nothing greater,
Than an artist falling in love with his muse.

Because there is nothing greater,
Than thinking in colors.

Because there is nothing greater,
Than growing old with another soul.

But most of all,
Fall in love with a poet.

Because when you die,
You will live forever.

—  E.M.P // “Reasons Why You Should Fall In Love With a Poet”
I will not succumb to temptation. I am temptation.
—  s.z (Rinse, Repeat, Repeat The Mantra)
I wake up everyday and tell myself I’m over him. Then out of nowhere a glimpse of our past flashes in my mind and all the memories we made. And I’m right back where I started. You wonder why I can’t stop thinking about him? It’s because when someone hands you the world and all you’ve ever dreamed of…then without warning takes it back; you notice something is obviously missing. And you try your damn best to recreate your own tiny world but nothing seems to quite measure up.
If no one is around to here you cry 
do the tears still fall? It doesn’t matter.
You’ll go 9 days with red eyes,
fresh tear track stains and no one will ask you 
if you are okay. You will tell yourself that this
is just a lesson on how to be lonely,
everyone else must have learned this earlier,
you’re just a late bloomer 
because there is no way that other people
go through life feeling this way.
And maybe you could get a tutor,
but really that is just a form of company 
and you want practical learning 
so you suppose it’s best to stay isolated,
keep studying to get used to this feeling,
then maybe you can hide it, ace the test
and no one will know you are hurting.
—  Loneliness 101 || O.L.