“We come spinning out of nothingness
Scattering stars like dust.
The stars form a circle
And in the center we dance.”

““Introverts are collectors of thoughts, and solitude is where the collection is curated and rearranged to make sense of the present and future.””
— Laurie Helgoe

moon&temple;
.
'and this is how you will know me, sister, among the captives:
my hair perfumed with incense smoke, how slowly i enter the vacancy of a room.
my reliquary heart.'
.

life is great. my complaints are few. one being the beauty of fall always leaves too fast.. & then theres my lack of writing or being creative in general..

its been quite the year. & nearing the end of it I find myself flirting with ghosts yet again. one day I'll learn that just cuz I can see the potential for the best in someone doesnt mean they are or can be that person. the shadows they cast still play tricks on my heart..

“Other people are merely mirrors of you. You cannot love or hate something about another person unless it reflects to you something you love or hate about yourself.”

(a series of weeks & months that tore at my hair, that gnashed its teeth into my hands and my heart and left holes on the other side.)

I don't want you to love me. I just want you to see the things in me that he couldn't like a searchlight that reminds a survivor of the dawn ~ Keighley Perkins

He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
— Emily Bronte

I will remember your small room, the feel of you, the light in the window, your records, your books, our morning coffee, our noons, our nights, our bodies spilled together, sleeping, the tiny flowing currents, immediate and forever. Your leg, my leg, your arm, my arm, your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again.
— Charles Bukowski

as if I was only meant to be no more than a memory..