Reconnecting

Reconnecting

Three years have come and gone

Seasons passed

Birthdays came and went

Weddings happened and life moved forward

But I still missed you

Three years have passed

I am no longer angry

No longer sad

I have moved on in my life past whatever was holding me down

Yet I still missed you

Three years went by

I made new friends

Moved hours away

Became a new person

Damnit I still missed you

So three years later

Some liquid courage in my blood

I told you that I was sorry and missed you

To my complete surprise

You told me you missed me too

Now here we are three years later

Acting like old friends

Catching up on the last three years

Like it was just yesterday 

I've missed you

Three years ago I parted ways with my best friend.  Two days ago we reconnected. It feels wonderful.

My Author

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My Author

Who am I to question my author?
The person who writes my story
On the days my life passes in  a blur, those are the days that start with "and three weeks later she still couldn't shake the feeling"
The slow says are when my story is written
You know those days
The ones where time stands still
Where your biggest moments happen
Where you think "How did this happen to me? Why me?"
That's your author writing the heart of your story
My story
So tell me
Who am I to question my author?

Here's the first poem on the revised It's Poker Dollface.  I hope you enjoy it.  Next to come is a short story series so stay tuned!

Flamed Lovers

Flamed Lovers

Once upon a time a match fell in love with a flame

He would wait all day to see her flicker in the night                 

He longed to be with her and knew she felt the same though she never spoke spoke a word

One day he had an idea how they could be together

He spent all day soaking in a bowl of water

Waiting for night time to fall so he could finally love her

But alas

The one thing he never knew was that all this time he was waterproof

And the minute he came close to her he lit up just the same

This is only one of the first of many posts to come in this Tim Burton-esque style.  A little macabre, a little cute, and it always leaves an impression.

Twice Hands

Twice Hands

Once upon a time a little boy was born

He was not like any other boy though

You see he had hands twice as big as every other boy and feet twice as small

He was teased all day and night and never allowed to play with the other kids

Racing Thoughts

I had a little moment of creativity here so I decided to share a poem with you guys

Racing Thoughts

Beating faster

Out of control

On the verge of a breakdown I can’t yet vocalize

Ready to fall to my knees from the strain of holding myself together one more moment

Triplets

Triplets

SarahAnne MaryAnne and Clara were sisters

SarahAnne was the pretty one

With hair of gold and the laughter of an angel

MaryAnne was the smart one

She had prizes and scholarships and always knew the right answer

Clara was really born Thomas

She was the favorite

Thumblings

Thumblings

Hiding behind your dresser drawer

Buried among the socks you thought you lost in your dresser

Is a Thumbling

Hoarding your loose change

Your spare keys and your lost baubles

He waits for you to turn around

So he can “borrow” things he knows you need

But don’t worry, you’ll never see him

Frankly you would never want to

The minute you go near him he makes you forget what you were doing.

Ever wonder why you walk into a room and forget why you were there?

You probably stepped too close to the Thumbling trying to borrow your remote

Next time you go out you may want to get a fish

I hear they hate fish