entry 10

mourning a future that was once dreamed of

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dearest friends,

happy april! let the showers fall against the backs of our necks as we turn our chins up in accpetance and feel the drops of god grace our cheeks. spring is late to the party, but we dance anyways under the cadence of thunderstorms. do not wish for the rain to cease, rather welcome its arrival and embrace it tightly until the sun shines again. flowers will bud as the clouds make way for the inevitable sun.

we cannot know what would have been if the clouds decided to hold back their tears, we can only be grateful for the fruitful reapings we will soon sow. i would rather bear through the storms than cease to experience the temperments of funny weather.

love always, laney

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desire rots the brain and sometimes

all you wish for is to be touched as if you are beautiful,

and at times that is the most unbearable feeling of them all.

to whom am i betraying in this fitful battle?

there must be something joyous at the other end of this shame,

something enlightening that makes all of the pain worth its trouble.

but i cannot shake the belief that shame is an inescapable addiction 

that some never shed.

forlorn nights i find myself confessing my sins to the moon,

in the confidence of dark stillness.

a being which fosters abhorrence,

who desires a love they barely believe in,

will you love me anyways?

grieving who could have been were it not

for the dagger held against my own throat.

the grief is terminal,

the grief is exhaustive,

the grief is all encompassing,

yet the grief is nothing if not love

with nowhere to go.

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(photo: a film photo with no known date. estimated capture between 1996-1999. the silhouettes of a wooden stool, blanketed with white linen, holds a chest shaped figure with a handle upright. the backlight shines softly against it through sheer white curtains. miscellaneous items, such as a plants and a peeking table, perimeter the photo. the film allows us to feel the nostalgia assumed to be intended by the photographer. the photo can be credited to my mother and nana, whom i believe are the capturers of such a feeling.)