I'm trying my best as it is

I'm Kristen and it's nice to have met you.


it takes shutters
to block out
the sun
but peaking 
through cracks
are little rays
of light that
so inconveniently
place themselves
upon you
when all that was
wanted was a
chance to learn
that positivity came
from the self
and not symbolism
that words

i had no chance
of looking for
something seemingly
somewhere I
had no
i couldn’t grasp
ahead of me
nor could i
take in what
i thought was
the surrounding.
i spent days
lost trying
to find
but all I got
were foreign
stares at someone
who looked
pathetic enough
to try

reliant on what
isn’t and distant
towards what is
it’s confusion
dispersed among
the knowing of
the lack of restraint
the holder bears
all for something (perhaps someone)
that is known
for never caring
but it was hard to be
independent in the
first place

to be
relegated as
nothing of fucking

God, it just fucking
hurts more than I
thought it would.

(Source: vicforprez, via vultureswing)

can it be that
what i know
or what i lack
in knowing 
contributes to
the fallacy
of an indecisive
nature one of
which parallels
the other
because what i
do know doesn’t
mean i absolutely
there is no sound
nature or behavior
thoughts contrast
with what we felt
we knew but didn’t
and what we knew
was no indication
of having ever
really known
what is true
these days

do the granulations of bread
ever consider themselves
lucky enough to be something
so fulfilling,
undergoing transformations
into the substance
that gives rise to the nutrition
from the whole,
crystallizing from originality
into functionality in order to
sate the appetite of others?

"In my mind I am eloquent; I can climb intricate scaffolds of words to reach the highest cathedral ceilings and paint my thoughts. But when I open my mouth, everything collapses."

— Isaac Marion, Warm Bodies (via carnalitea)

(Source: bookquotesbook.tumblr.com , via chvmpcvm)


it’s a bottomless pit
extending until the heart seems to cease.
the darkness encases it,
swallowing it whole.
a satisfying meal.

three hundred and
sixty five days later.
i wasn’t all that
familiar with you
but that sinking
feeling still hits
i remember
sitting in the pew
looking upon you
stain glass windows
illuminating colors
hints of
blues and purples,
colors that remind me
of how sudden
and how soon
you passed.
three hundred and
sixty five days later
and the feeling is
still the same.