Blowing Bubbles

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These rad bubble gum pink pants bring back my childhood. Cue nostalgia. The past few days I’ve been practicing mindfulness while hiking Griffith Park. The birds above and scratchy grasses of forging my individual pathways have been calming and inspiring. The pull of bright fabric amidst the force of nature. This abundance. This happy and carefree person that views herself in the sky.

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22. just a dream

the ambition of my mind scintillates with him chasing me along sandy shores. beach weeds. salty tongues. a few borrowed sunbeams. knowing very well it is just a dream.

xoxo,

mute style

To You

to you,

three months a swooping return. three months of winging shadowed thoughts. three months of over washing my softness. this is psychology of a bird nest. the grasses of fiction entwined with yearning. rest. this tender spot. the hue of nervousness. the bitter remembrance of empty places that exist. Continue reading

The Wind

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the sluggishness of the past week was colored by coffee shops, Bob Dylan, and writing one-sided love on the moon. comfort in lies she knew. her snug spilled milk sheets at noon. a song remaining in her mind. she was not a singer. but when she decided to sing, she bled Pocahontas colors of the wind. she escaped the sorrow that others rested upon her, a lacking of mutual awareness. she held the truth between her ticketed lips; love is not the jealously or entitlement that comes from a desperation for love in return. for her, one-sided love is fair. Continue reading