Call it a curse, or just call me blessed. If you can’t handle my worst, you ain’t getting my best. Is this how Marilyn Monroe felt?

That rush. that drug. that dope.
Those pills. that crumb. that roach.

Thinkin ‘i would never do that, not that drug,’
growing up nobody ever does.
Until you’re stuck, looking in the mirror like
‘I can’t believe what I’ve become’
Swore I was goin’ to be someone,
growing up everyone always does.

We sell our dreams and our potential
to escape through that buzz.
Just keep me up, keep me up,
Hollywood here we come.

coming to terms with the things i cannot control.

what have you touched?
paint, to document the masterpiece of your life.
your face, shielding your emotions from strangers.
a pencil, gripped with your inspired fingers.
the window, to find your way out//
the door, to find your way in.
the contours of another, memorizing your love.
feeling your story. creating it.

eyes,
what have you seen?
the trees, the sky. rain on the glass. 
the quest for recognition, nature’s composition.
the fear in people, exploding in their eyes.
a string of lights around the banister,
a string of pearls around mother’s neck.
her smile at a school dance; he’s learning to live.
pride on his face; we’re all vicariously living.

ears,
what have you heard?
wind rustling the leaves. you bundle up.
coffeehouse jazz on a Saturday night.
harsh words spoken to make herself stronger.
a compliment from the one who makes you soar.
the guitar strumming on the corner.
the knock at the door//
two in the morning,
he just needed to know he wasn’t alone.

nose,
what have you smelled?
the family dinner at thanksgiving.
her perfume on the first date.
midnight air,
the scent of bonfire on your hair.
grass after a thunderstorm.
gasoline before the long road trip.
he left his sweatshirt in your room//
//it’s the only way you’re able to sleep now.
nostalgic reveries of an unbeatable summer,
your sunkissed skin, his winterfresh gum.

tongue,
what have you tasted?
lollipops that only cost $1.00 at the fair.
your own dry mouth before a speech.
snowflakes, disintegrating instantly.
your grandmother’s homemade vegetable soup//
//she only makes it on christmas morning.
his love and affection for you,
the only way he knows how to express it at age sixteen.
the ice cream on your chin, chilled with youth naivety.
we all long for the moments when it used to be easy.

what beauty we overlook;
how rare we thank our senses//
//such magic we fail to appreciate.

I never want to miss it again.

(Source: technicolorblanket)

I am seriously so appreciative of my life. I feel like no one sits down at the end of their day, every day, and actually REFLECTS on what happened. I have the most entertaining, trustworthy, carefree friends ever and I never have a dull moment. We love eachother so much that sometimes our conversations are literally ABOUT how much we love eachother. I just, I don’t get it. I hope everyone else feels this happy at the end of the day with the people they’ve chosen to spend their time with. LUV.