a story about you:

i miss you a lot more than the silence being shared between us. i know that closeness isn’t always defined by physical space, so we’ll always be close no matter the distance. it’s really been strange. do you ever miss me too? it’s really cold right now, but i’m still going to write this. it feels like winter is here a bit too soon, i know that december is a rough month for you. i have asked the stars to sing you back to bed, maybe a few of my thoughts woke you up from a nap, maybe words are all that we are and that’s okay too.

do you ever feel like it’s hard to trust people? i was thinking that i could trust myself enough to let my feelings run rampant, i don’t want any of this to be a clean edit. you’re more important than that. you deserve my honesty. i think some parts of my heart still feel hurt. i thought that i was smart enough, that my intuition is powerful, but in the end, i think we’re all too flawed to figure out what’s right and what’s wrong. who can really judge us when the lights are turned off? every scar looks like the next scar, every lie as bad as the next lie, every smile still feels real, every time that i’ve shared a laugh with you still feels like i actually knew you. i’m walking home and the stars are so pretty! i’m not so fond of the cold, but you are. i miss your voice very much and i know you’d pick up if i called. i’ve been detaching myself from a lot. i spend a lot of time alone, maybe it’s some strange form of punishment for not loving my wonderful company enough. a very valuable question to the sad souls out there, are we lonely people or do we feel alone? is it by choice or unconditionally bound to us as part of the human experience? i still have those monkey mittens that you bought for me. sometimes when i’m anxious i listen to your bloom cover. it’s still my favorite.

i think time does heal all wounds. my rose-tinted viewpoint of life won’t change that. you’re still beautiful to me. and my heart will always have room for you. in the body, in my mind, in this spirit, in my space— i can only pray that god takes care of you and your family. i’ve left my soul in the hands of the universe for quite some time now. my feelings tell me that i need to let you know that much. i still care about you.

i feel like you’re in a good place even though we haven’t spoken to one another in awhile. i just feel it. are you? if you’re not, i just wanted to let you know that it has to. somewhere under all of the pain, there’s something good happening. i have tried to look away from the sun, but she keeps pulling me back. under promises and whispers of warmth, i’ve seen the truth of what happens when you find true love. i found wings in the shape of fire and fire has no shape— formless and ever changing, i am a perfect reflection of all the things i would love to do better, they say that it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission— so i hope you can forgive me for taking so long to write this. there was a huge disconnect in my heart and for some odd reason, the longer my hair got, the less i gave a fuck. and that’s my fault.

this is a reminder to constantly cherish the warm parts of what makes us… us. i know that you love me because i love you too. no amount of trouble could ever take that away from us. i think at the end of the day, we all just want to be loved and feel loved. something genuine. something real. something sweet. it’s that simple. give me a star and i’ll give you a constellation back. give me the truth and i’ll tell you mine. love me like you mean it and i’ll always be there for you. you can have the shirt off my back and i won’t ask for a dime back because no matter where i go or who i become— my karma will answer back in full force because i have demanded the universe to be tough to my heart. i have hurt a lot of people and that has not gone unnoticed by the echoes of truth. i will get what i’m owed, what i deserve, what i am worthy of. no matter the price. cold hands, years of depression, a numbing sensation from disappointed relationships— a quarrel with madness slipping into chaos dressed pretty enough to kiss, but lonely enough to keep me silent down to the bone, to the wire. these aren’t just meaningless letters, this isn’t just a poem about how i missed you and could really use your presence. i think it’s good to let things out. to let things flow. my heart is as naked as it was when i was born. when i had my first cry, when i ate my first meal from deep inside my mother, when my dad tried to love my mom, when i was just in the universe as a tiny light too far for the naked eye to visually see, sometimes madness comes with brilliance— or was it the other way around? i’ve forgotten and could care less. my ramblings are just ramblings. i’m here for only a mere moment with all that i am. it really is cold tonight, but writing this has added some level of warmth in my mind and that will always be the first thing that you taught me as a writer. to start with myself and never look back. i love you so very much, i hope you never forget that. sometimes we just get busy; a reminder that you are loved is never bad. so i love you. i love you even if we don’t speak too often. i love you even if we’re not up to date with one another. i love you even when you’re unsure. i don’t have enough room in my heart to not love you. it’s just enough. just enough to love all that you are— mistakes, honesty, and lies. it’s in our coding, our nature to want to understand one another. you’re not the only fucked up person, my love. i am too. i could never judge you. i can only love you more.

Changing roast

She wrapped both hands around the mug and gently lifted it towards her face. She took a deep breath in; the steam gently fogged up her glasses. This one was fruity, high and fleeting

The volatile smell took her by surprise, So she followed with a sip. Chaos entered her mouth and swirled around her tongue. She closed her eyes, but it wasn't dark. She saw a vibrant rainbow of colors in harmony.

But the vision was fleeting, just as the taste had gone. A pleasant twist of acidity lingered behind. She longed for the balance found in that cup.

In that rainbow she was he and he was she, He could be free. He took another sip from the mug, but this time it was heavy, peu sûr, He didn't have to close his eyes.

The dark roast closed in around him and he said a bittersweet farewell as the last sip traveled, down the back of his throat, and transformed him back into her.

- Thanks for the inspiration @novaticgalaxy

Like the roast of a coffee bean, we are so varied. Not only in our roast, but in how we are ground, brewed, smelled, tasted, and linger. Even from the same roast, not one cup is exactly the same. 

I volunteered for a social justice camp Inclusive Communities for several years and held the hand of so many youth who were struggling through understanding their sexual identity and orientation. Many of them voicing their true feelings for the first time at camp. Having hidden their true selves their entire lives. 

I want to be clear about something, I’m a Christian, and I believe in two things. One. God created man and woman to be together. Two. God commanded us to love one another. 

I will never ever turn my back on someone for the struggle they go through. I will never tell them who or how to be. That’s their journey, not mine. That’s their decision not mine. My niece struggles with these issues and it’s hard for her to understand this... I love her. I don’t agree with the lifestyle she may choose, or what she may believe, but not agreeing isn’t the same thing as not supporting. I can believe that God made her a girl, but if she feels like a boy inside, I’m not going to tell her to ignore that. I’m not going to tell her she’s sick or broken or wrong. I’m not the judge. I’m the Aunt. Aunts love and support. So if she finds this, if she reads this. This is for her. Alex, Morgan, Marek (@mentalprince), whomever you dream to be today! I’m your believer and you don’t have to hide behind closed eyes.

Uhm! A teacup12 became a teacup13 but but not a teacup14?!?! :(

Your heart was so big, you made poems out of it.

For teacup12. Please come back.

j.c.b.

Deactivation

You cannot lose what was never yours. Not a name passed by the wind. Not a ray of pure sunlight. Not the raindrops that sing in a storm.

You cannot lose love. You can only learn it. What it is. What it feels like. What it makes you feel.

You cannot lose what was never yours. Not a hello Nor goodbye Nor silence Nor waning shadow.

What unconvincing lies I tell myself. What tawdry words of useless woe. What wasted poetry bleeding from stale sores. What worthless sour pity.

You cannot lose what was never yours. But I surely can own this sadness.

We each bring our own hands to the table 2

I always think clubs is my lucky suit they are second in the hierarchy and I am seldom top diamonds maybe red sharp and unyielding in real life but hard display isn't my way spades have the ace darkly menacing for my two eyed face clubs suit me best don't deal me a hand full of heart that's my daily start leading with my heart Thank you again to @teacup12

The Inside Story with teacup12

Sonata

1) Name: Alexa

2) Age: 24

3) blog title/website: @teacup12

4) Where you live: Alberta

5) Where you grew up: BC

6) Schooling: graduated from a small private Jesus school in the middle of nowhere. University: Nursing/Social work/Early Childhood Education

7) What do you do for a living: putting my degrees to good by running a dayhome

8) Any mentors that have helped you: high school English teacher

9) When you began writing: around the age of 7…ish

Adagio

10) Fav time of day: somewhere between midnight and 2am

11) Fav tree: weeping willow

12)  Fav prose writer(s): Atwood, Camus, Orwell

13) Fav poet(s) ellen hopkins, Frost, Poe, Dickinson

14) Fav quote: being happy doesn’t mean that everything is perfect, it means that you have decided to look beyond the imperfections.

15) Currently reading: The Rosie Project

16) Want to read: that list is way too long for this

17) Biggest literary pet peeve: repetitiveness, taking paragraphs or pages to get to a point they’ve been circling  

18) Biggest literary turn on: vivid use of imagery and metaphors that take you to another place

Minuet

19) From idea to completion, what is your process? I generally start with a word that pops into my mind and run from there.

20) Where do you write? The bathroom floor, couch, by the river.

21) In what medium (notebook paper, computer, phone)?  Typically, on my phone. I find it easier to dislike my own writing when it is handwritten.

22) How long do you usually spend on a piece?  5 mins to half an hour… unless I fall asleep while writing. Then it could take me days to get back to it.

23) Do you go back and re-work? Depends on my level of satisfaction with the finished product. Generally, I don’t. I find it hard to go back and read over my own work.

24) Have you/will you publish? I’ve been in newspapers and stuff. Other than that, I haven’t really pursued getting published.

25) What is your biggest challenge with writing? Getting too personal without metaphors.

26) Do you have particular goals? Maybe get one of the novels I’ve written published. Or have someone other than myself read one of them…

27) Other outlets (creative, physical, leisure, etc.) sports and guitar

Rondo

28) What is one thing you would like to have people remember you by? Smiling although it hurts

29) What would you like to know about other writers? How often are you satisfied with a piece you write?

30) Coffee or Tea? I drink coffee like it’s water in a desert

31) One quirk/talent you can share: every instrument I play, sans the clarinet, was self taught.

32)  Present state of mind: a place no one should ever have to be

33) Where we can find your work: tumblr

Its been three days and I miss you like fallen leaves miss a tree. I miss your touch like the dried out and forgotten rocks in the ocean. I’m drowning like a locked treasure chest suffocating with half complete images trying to escape. Its been three days and all I’ve felt is the ghost of your fingers running along the contours of my face, and I can’t tell if my shirt is soaked in my tears or the rain. Every breath smells like your favorite daisy. I’m still holding you in every daydream, and the only word my lips can form is your name. Its been three days of telling the walls I’m sorry, and promising they will be able to drown in your emerald city once more. Its been three days and I miss you but..

It’s easy to only remember the good parts when you’re lonely. // a.m

fold my emotions into your back pocket and carry all of my love with you wherever you plan to go and if this life that’s short and temporary is all that we have— may your sky be cotton candy stained by sweets left from more rain, fire left by less pain, a troubled smile but you are still brave enough to bear with the pain of losing someone close. you always eat too much sweets before reading all of my words, i don’t mean to spoil you rotten, i just don’t know how else to love you. and maybe that’s where i’m at fault. all of my honey and sugar left on your lips, all of my poetry plans to forever read like this, a swoosh, a panting, a painting, a swirl, a spin, a dance, a moment, a dream— it’s all that i am. love, that’s it for me.

—so see me for me and nothing else

Broken People by Logic & Rag’nBone Man

20180622

I can’t go backwards. I can’t go forwards. My purgatory was built on your words. Fat, ugly, lazy. FAT. UGLY. LAZY. Everything is just a little bit hazy. I can’t see straight through all the hate. You don’t even know but you show such a display of false insight you think you have to be right. I don’t have a home because you sit on your throne of judgement and self-righteousness. You think you broke me but can’t you see I’ve been broken, rollin’ on the highway of a let down since my feet hit the ground. It’s a real shame you throw the blame because I know you’ve got some claim to your own hurt inside you deny. You think the strong go along with the crowd, always proud of the reflection on the screen. But real strength is built between the cracks of a broken soul, never whole, but in control of the words they say. BROKEN. UNIQUE. STRONGER.

I got a hugging back so now I’m going to sleep after drinking 12 cups of tea like a jayboss does!

(I bet this will totally teach me to snore, too!)

Blexa

I can't lie. there's times where I really couldn't speak, same goes for you. Hearing you laugh yesterday made me remember why the sun rises (to keep you warm because you don't wear socks). But seriously thank you. Not gonna drench you in imagery or gag you with metaphors, you're exceptional. One of these days, we'll read the fine print and start all over again. I owe a lot to you. More than I could ever explain. I'm a jackass, I know, But at least I'm furry ❤️ @teacup12

teacup12 replied to your photo“I turn twenty four today…  :)”

Happy birthday! :)

Thank You..  :)

dhritspoetry replied to your photo “I turn twenty four today…  :)”

Lol, happy birthday!

Thanks Mate!...  :) and also thank you soooooooo much for being such an amazing peer! :D

counting raindrops excluding tears

how many poems can we write about the rain?

We each bring our own hands to the table 1

Imagine one up and one down back and palm tales told by age tales told by youth can truth be seen by scar and blemish reflections told by skin and bone honest immobility beats facial duplicity DISCLAIMER title stolen from @teacup12