Letters

To The One My Heart Grew Heavy For

I miss you terribly and I wish you’d come back home to me. I know it’s a selfish thing, wishing you were here while you need your time and space, but I can’t help wanting to be wrapped up safely in your arms. You were my rock, my safety net, and now you’re gone; you’ve disappeared and I don’t know if you’ll be coming back. My mind is full of words I never had the courage to share with you, and now I’m left regretting every unspoken syllable. I should have been more open with you because now, when I no longer have the opportunity, I want to rip my heart wide open and let its love pour over you. I need you, I need you here, and not because I can’t image a life without you; but because, now that I’ve had the chance to swim inside your soul, no other waters seem so appealing.

I want to run to you and hold you in my arms. I want to feel the rhythm of your heart beating against my chest. I want to hear your voice echoing your declarations of love for me. But I can’t bring myself to call out to you.

Your head has been hectic, your mind a mess, and I know you need time to sort it all out. And yes, I miss you, but above all I am so concerned for your well-being. You told me you were falling apart, and I’ve never felt so worried. I want to hold your hand and help you through this. I want you to know that I’m on your side. I’m doing all I can to keep myself from calling out to you. I desperately want to make sure that you’re safe, that you’re doing well tonight. But you asked for time and I want to respect your space.

I love you. And my heart is so damn heavy for you. Take your time and take care of yourself. But know in your heart I’m always here, waiting with open arms.

poetry

Meeting a Stranger

Hold her delicately in both hands,

Remembering the fragility of the person you’re grasping.

Slowly begin a first attempt at peeling back the outer shell.

Quickly be reminded of the tough outer barrier as she refuses to escape her peel.

As the peel loosens its grip,

Remove it in small, haphazard shards.

Slowly remove one slice from the whole.

Chew slowly and deliberately.

Crafting, Personal

Witch Crafts

I have always loved crafting and creating and bringing things to life. I love living with paint stained fingertips and ink permanently smudged on the side of my hand.
My Etsy shop, Cosmic Witchery, is my way of bringing my creative passions to life. There you will find the wide variety of ways my chaotic mind manifests itself in the creative realm.

During one of the rougher patches of my life, I constantly found myself alone in my room with an abundance of time and very low energy (thanks greatly in part to my depression and PTSD). My illnesses made it impossible for me to go out, but my overactive mind made it impossible for me to rest. Writing and crafting became my two biggest outlets.

I started to craft and  work on small projects everyday, as much as my energy levels would allow. I filled my room with paintings, tie-dye banners, dream catchers, and so many other beaded decorations. These small items kept me happy, peaceful, and sane for a year and half – enough time to gain some normality and routine back into my existence. After that, I was able to expand my projects and my energy began to return to a somewhat normal state. I was able to go back to school, something I had thought was impossible.

But I never stopped crafting.

These crafts have given me a much needed outlet for my ever-racing mind. They help me to stay centered, to stay sane. They keep me grounded and focused on one project at a time. They make for a relaxing study break and keep me going on my roughest days.

And so, after two years of crafting for myself, I decided to open an Etsy shop and share my craft with others. I hope they bring you and much pleasure, peace, and positive vibes as they have always brought me.

Love and light,

m.m.t.

Personal, poetry

Sea of Introspection

I’ll let the ink spill from my veins
And engulf me, swallow me whole
Until there is no suffering, no pain
I’ll let the writing ease my heavy soul

I’m already drowning in these memories of you
Swept out into a sea of forgetful grays
But the ocean is starting to change its hue
I can no longer see the light of day

It’s an overwhelming sort of moment
Lost in a maze of my own mind
Searching for sanity and trying to hold it
Tightly so I don’t lose myself this time

With ink I spill out draft after draft
In the turbulent sea, the page is my only raft

Personal, Studying

Editing Services

Hey everyone, quick announcement!

I’m starting my own editing services! I do edits for grammatical/copy editing and also content editing for short stories or blog posts or so much more! If you use coupon code “BLOG25” you’ll receive 25 percent off of these services at pilesofpapers.etsy.com!

I am an English major working towards my masters degree in literary and cultural studies. I’ve written and edited more essays and stories than I can count. When you get your editing services though me you’ll always be getting a great final product and a great deal!

Letters

To the One I Found Solace in

I have never been a poet,

just a prose writer who pressed

enter in somewhat appropriate

places.

 

And this will never be a poem,

but a confession that comes across

so much better read than

spoken.

 

I know I’ve never been a poet,

but you make me feel

like I could be a work of

art.

 

And I know I’ll never be a poem,

but a messy meter and sloppy stanza

filled with half thoughts and clouded

memories.

 

You were a muse,

my muse, and my aspiration

and you saw us in a way that  I could never see

myself.

 

You saw us whole,

not just pieces of something greater

but something to be proud of and something to

envy.

 

We are a poem,

a free verse entity

taking on a life of its

own.

 

In you I have found a home.