That moment when you get a brief, but significant insight into someone elses life, and see them through a new lense and you become recharged with their words and also heavy with their insides and all at once tangled in their emotions.
Change is suffering past each second with the stark prickle of awakening.
You have friends, and warmth. Stress, and strain. Ambition, and ambiguity.
You have love bubbling at the ends of each finger waiting to be tested and used. It’s full potential- a magnetic pull at the regression of a lingering lust.
The shackles of adult liability weigh heavily on the reminiscence of an expired youth-but light fire to the unsettling impatience of desire.
Four letter words are tucked away into each secluded hiding spot. Lungs, cheeks, each rib in your side, and the joints of your eager limbs. Held tight for when your youth can be rearranged into your sedated life and brought into the mirage of a future.
Money, time, responsibility, school, work, opinion, stress, anxiety all abolished in the honor of living for memories that brought back the stark prickle of what is was to be awake.
what is was to open your rib cage and embellish risk into the core of restrain.
what is was to be free and young.
what is was to churn fresh lust into the yellow hue of an unchained bird.
Lover, lifer, writer. Journalism student, and Vancouver freelancer. This is my personal blog with a lot of my own poetry and intimate entries. I am continuously inspired by successful, talented and innovative women, and I try to reflect that as much as possible. I hope you enjoy.