on the thing that's missing now .

something

lacked
beneath her skin
the
girl
that
let the lion
in.
she played a game
she couldn't
win.
she had a heart
but
it
caved
in.

by j.s. (insomniiatic)

{Photo: Viola Cangi Flickr}

one, two, infinity .

you have a mole under the corner of your left eye and it was the first thing i loved about you.

you have a scar that runs down your stomach that you got while play-fighting in the woods when you were six, and it was the 5th thing i loved about you (after your lopsided grin, the ruddiness of your cheeks, and the calm of your voice).

you have a patch of freckles on your right calf that look like ursa minor, and I'm not sure what number this was because somewhere after five i stopped counting parts and started seeing a whole. 
and this would have been terrifying had it not happened so slowly and so without me realizing that the pieces were adding up to make someone who would, one day, become a part of me.

if you like, i could write the whole long list of everything you made me love, but i've found the things i didn't fit easier on a page: 
when you stopped smiling with your teeth, 
how your words became smaller and more sharp over time, 
the look on your face when you said goodbye and meant it. 

and i understand the goodbye, i do. it's just, some days i miss that mole under your eye. 

S. 

{Photo: Ian Richardson Flickr}

ps. hello my lovely readers. this month marks 3 years of writing in this space(!), and in all that time the appearance of this blog has remained mostly unchanged; this month i decided change was due. i hope you like the new look! i also just want to say a huge thank you to everyone who reads and comments on my posts, you mean more to me than i know how to express. thank you for your kindness, encouragement, and support; i genuinely love and appreciate every comment and i'm sorry that i'm not better at responding to them. i'm going to try to be more interactive, so if you have any suggestions for the blog, any writing prompt/subject ideas you'd like me to try, or any questions about myself, i'd love to hear them! i also have an email you can contact me directly at: eachinfinitehorizon@gmail.com . thank you all again. 

on things more alive than me:

the mid-morning tea
burning my tongue
when i haven't burned for anything
in years.

the cherry-blossoms
lining my street
fearlessly unfolding
to the world.

the moon
pouring into my window
to reveal something different of herself
each night.

the currents 
coursing through my bedside lamp
when all i know is how to be
static.

S. 

{Photo: Mine}

phantom limb .

i find loss comes the hardest when forgotten 
for a moment, for a time

and then i reach for where you ought to be
with words i ought to say and find you 

nowhere

i can't use fancy words to dress this up
i don't know how
i don't know how


i don't know how

S. 

{Photo: Viola Cangi Flickr}

on the one who made me afraid .

i'm not sure what it was in your life that made you feel that
you had to shout to be heard 
and only violent hands could get your point across

i'm not sure what made you think of manipulation as
the only way to get what you're after
and faux-kindness something you can sell to the highest bidder (for a time)

somewhere in life you mastered the one-sided argument
and learned to twist words till they sound nothing the same as
when they came out

your voice became a siren in my nightmares
and i used to hear it right before i feel asleep, then re-awaken
heart pounding

and even after i got out, making sure i'd never cross your path again
even then i'd peek around corners and speak in hushed tones
and hold my breath when the phone would pierce through the silence

S. 

{Photo: Flickr Margaret Durow}

sounds and meaning .

One day I plan to tell you how I really felt feel about you, without the wordplay and best guesses. One day I plan to spell it all out in a language we can both speak and comprehend.

You will know that day is here when my heart is bleeding onto everything I touch. When my skin is all but screaming to be wrapped up in your arms.When my every bone quakes at the sound of your voice.
(Or am I back to wordplay?)

You will know it is that day because it will sounds like this: I loved love you. 

I love you, dammit. 

S. 

{Photo: Flickr Anna Blundell}