hundred & fifty

She hears the fire alarm as she calmly applies another coat of her drugstore mascara. She blinks twice slowly and step back from the mirror as she puts in her last pearl earring—determined to escape the flames unsheathed. 

hundred & forty-nine

I wonder how much of it was circumstance. Clearly you were drawn to me, but how much of it was close quarters and strong whiskey and how much of it was captivation and intrigue? I’ll take genuine lust over circumstance, but tell me, is there such thing? 

hundred & forty-eight

Your healing in front of me has left me even more torn than I ever was before.

hundred & forty-seven

There’s madness happening outside my window as the sun goes down behind the city skyline. I would pick lying in bed, scrolling through Pinterest wedding boards and laughing at Jimmy Kimmel with you every time. 

hundred & forty-six

He was a little cute; I was a little single.

hundred & forty-five

It’s the nights we try to blend in with the world and fail miserably that I re-realize you’re my very best friend. 

hundred & forty-four

You saw him laughing, eyes gleaming. But be aware: he’s only smiling because he knows the ghosts in your eyes will play nicely with the demons in his. 

hundred & forty-three

She drove a little too fast; she loved a little too deep. She learned the hard way that only on the very brink of death do you feel the most alive. 

hundred & forty-two

My lips have become a catalyst for words you will never say. I recite affirmations softly to myself: you are beautiful, you are loved, you are enough. And just before sleep overcomes me, I almost believe them. 

hundred & forty-one

We are so quick to yell at the Lord; so quick to deny Him in His great plan for us. Sometimes God doesn’t change your circumstance. Sometimes God changes you, instead. 

hundred & forty

A note to the side chicks: there is no winning. It’ll drive you mad if you don’t have him, but you know the second you do, you won’t trust him. You’re competing, baby, but there is no competition. This isn’t about respecting yourself or fighting for what you want. This is about realizing you’re worth honesty. And with this, what you’re doing at 2am, there is no winning.

hundred & thirty-nine

Trust me, I’m just as sick of writing sad strings of words as you are reading them. I wonder, then, if when the hurt is gone, will I even be able to write? Perhaps only colorful words will slip from my tongue like a million rainbows with no hidden intentions.  

hundred & thirty-eight

Just know when she’s stopped playing games, it’s because she’s stopped caring who the winner is. And when that’s the case, man, you’ve lost her.

hundred & thirty-seven

I’m trying to rub clean the words engraved in my mind; consider my walls built and my heart incarcerated. 

hundred & thirty-six

Are the highs ever worth how deep the lows get?

hundred & thirty-five

I swear I’ll write you a rainbow as soon as my skies clear.

hundred & thirty-four

She sits alone in a cluttered art room painting canvasses, sitting cross legged, wine in hand, observing her work with quiet triumph. One acoustic cover fades into the next and the hours slip away. Truly, sometimes all you need is a long uninterrupted afternoon and a pencil to find that the only one who needs to love you is you.