Spoken//

Of all the words of mice and men, the saddest are, "It might have been". 

Kurt Vonnegut

{Photo via: Karina Vlasova}

Ruined.

I felt my heart break today. Crushed under the weight of a crippling disappointment - in myself. 
No. But not heartbreak, really. More like the feeling of a heart being suffocated. Slowing down. Fading. 
I don't know how I became this. I don't believe in me anymore. 

(I miss your arms today.) 

S.

{Photo: Flickr Adriano Sodré}

Thunderstorm.

There's something funny about that one night. Not one of those pictures turned out.

Which adds a little magic, no? All those moments, so charged with energy and secrecy, were never recorded. Just a handful of terrible, terrible photographs to remember or forget it by. Only up to me  - and you, perhaps.

Really, I don't know how I even hoped to capture it ; how I expected to hold electricity in my hand like it could last there forever. 

It was all a little like that. A lightning bolt. Deadly, fast, and brilliant. A flash that disappeared before I could trace the shape, or get it down on paper. Glorious and blinding for a blink, then gone. 

Yes. We were a little like that. 

 S. 

{Photo via: We Heart It}

There it is//

You don't want to hear the story of my life,

and anyway I don't want to tell it,

I want to listen to the enormous waterfalls of the sun.

And anyway it's the same old story - - -

a few people just trying, one way or another,

to survive.

Mary Oliver

{Photo: Theo Gosselin Photography}