skinny dipping

water, its expanse

swimming through dark forms

you don’t know whats underneath

and the unknown sort of excites you

swimming through the essential.

you take off your black bathing suit

so it can be just you and the water

alone

it slips off quickly, like it should have never been on oin the first places

and your thighs are light and pale pale white.

and you’ve always been a mermaid

beautiful green scales, ariel

and there are epiphanies

you know you could stay in for longer than most but you get out because you are shivering and have grown pale.

water.

the rocking water / the pattern of its motion / trees clumped together in the silhouette of mountains / boats lulling by / cutting the water like soft knives / the wake a reminder of their presences / like the shadows of humans / cricket music / and children jumping into the cold water that refreshes the soul / water, al of the water, surrounding the body and freeing one of all / weightlessness of body and spirit..

him,

i miss london

i miss him, a bit

but i’m adjusting and living better than before

examining my naked skin, flesh

comparing myself to the best

the heat that was there

spread out on the surface of the sand and the air

gone for now

except in my own head

kiss my own fingers cause nobodys there.

leaving.

leaving the trees, the grassy lands. to be welcomed by lifeless concrete buildings. 

where is the water and where will we hike?

in our heads

through forests of memory

for that is all we have left.

driving

driving. crossing land. the way she liked. on the road like this, she could forget all of her past. she felt no attachments or responsiblities. all of that was gone. and there was alot to forget.

she was searching, for experiences that she’d want to remember. memories that, she would never have the ability to let go of.

poem(?)

i’m doing nothing with my life / here i am young and rife/ ambition out of sight/ i don’t know what love means anymore/ more than this/ more than me, most importantly more than you. the branches of my life stretch out to grasp something. anything now/ to find absolutely nothing at all. stagnant, like roots in soil. i’m stuck here.

Edwardian Woman with Bat Wings

(via maudelynn)