For the light and love

|{There is a light
A soft, warm glow of a promise;

I walk down the road

And I see that light shining in

Someone else’s eyes

They smile at me

Unbeknownst of

The universe smiling at me

In a soft, warm glow of a promise,

Through their eyes

I keep that smile

That soft, warm glow of a promise

Wearing that stardust

On the fabric of my soul

And the light grows brighter.}

For 25 and life

|So far, 25 has taught me:

a. I don't give a shit about most things

b. I hate everything else

c. I have the stamina of a geriatric english bulldog

d. Salad is food

e. Heels are unnecessary

f. Pj's are acceptable clothing, for everywhere

g. Spellings are important

h. Somedays, Upworthy is the inspiration I need to make it out of bed

i. I can tell the tone people typed in, over the text

j. 40m/hr is a very comfortable speed

k. Morality is perspective (unless it's murder or rape or such - that's just straight up f*****)

l. Making lists is the most effective way of fooling myself into believing I'm doing something constructive

m. M&Ms get better with age

n. "Your mother" is not a passable comeback unless you're 15

o. It's okay to not know stuff

p. Religion is not faith

q. Long phone calls are exhausting, it's better to meet in person

r. Good digestion is the most special blessing

s. Batman makes more sense because he has issues as opposed to Superman who has Kryptonite 

t. Everything that says "Best before" is still pretty good after

u. People will cancel on you, it won't shatter your ego

v. The socks won't match and it won't kill you

w. You have skin, you are skinny

x. Accepting your inner nerd is the best gift you can give yourself

y. Question stuff and you'll realize nobody actually knows everything

z. If the laundry is done half of your life is sorted

For Him and He

|{And just like that, like a hint of indecent, balmy musky air Him was back. She woke up to a room smelling like Him. She’s head knew it wasn’t true but her heart struggled with every beat to conceal that he had crept up, inside her skin while she was asleep.
She touched the Braille of goosebumps on her arms, tracing it with her fingertips and Him’s name was etched on it. A name that She had forbidden herself to speak, a name that was but a faint quiver hidden away in the deepest, darkest corner of her unsaid confessionals. 

She shrugged Him off of her. Or rather made a vain and pathetic attempt at it. Her head was filling up with the musty smell of nostalgia and it was fogging her vision and quite possibly her judgment. She reached out to her phone and begun typing His name but of course the spring cleaning had done away with His number. Pursing her lips, she jogged through her mental catalogue of obscure information and found his number lying right beside his moaning black sheet on which they had made love under the stars. 

While she gulped unintentional amounts of water in an attempt to wash over the insides of her brain, something stirred beside her. She paid no heed until a hesitant hand grazed her’s. She looked as He smiled back at her with those crinkly brown eyes. “Morning gorgeous”, He said in a voice raspier than maple leaves in autumn. She wasn’t startled but she felt an unexplained need to pretend she was. He’s fondly blushing pink cheeks were no competition for the sepia haze she was in. But He didn’t see it and pulled her close, kissing her on her cotton mouth, “God, you’re beautiful”. 

As gentle and playful as a tug on a yarn tearing open the entire scarf, She tore herself away from He. “Italian food is heaven until you discover garlic breath”, she smiled as she made her way to the bathroom. He laughed and his kind eyes melted into puddles of crinkly gooeyness, ‘Beautiful AND funny…’
She smiled at him with a slyness she had acquired from her cat and closed the bathroom door behind her.

She’s smile was suddenly gone and regrettably, so was the rest of her morning. Something was telling her that perhaps He was on his way out too. She and He could be perfect, but She’s she-ness lay with Him and now her head was reeling.}

For Her, when Her was She..

|{I painted you
In colors of nights apart,
And with my greedy heart
I tainted you.

I drew you
A picture of quiet rage
And in this abysmal trade
I threw you.

I claim you
For mostly which is worse
And while you live this curse
I blame you.

I bereave you
Just wait for the light
And lover, love the fright
while I grieve you.}