#hey vangoghkid

letters words subject and predicate
all a vitality to a sentence
phrases sentences paragraphs
all spring from thoughts, courageous enough to be turned into something more
languages and conversations, monologues
links and soldiers of communication,
keys to expression
they provide meaning to an otherwise uncharted topic
it’s only fascinating how each word is important, how each symbol guides the direction of the story to its resolution and these served as a flourish,
distributing the ink to the paper

if i said something else as a reply to your lame hiother than my lame hello
things could’ve taken a different spin instead of this wacked up russian roulette
if i replied with a knock knock joke that you woudlve laughed at out of its corniness to your puns you’ve thought of at the last minute as those three dots flicker as i type
-i wonder which lane we’d end up in or if we’d have taken a detour,
on which road, i wouldn’t have cared
if i typed out my real fear instead of saying how much i hate the dark (even though it’s overrated) when you asked,
maybe you would’ve stayed longer
if i have been straightforward when we got soft serve that day,
really how hard could it have been?
i should’ve replaced the smirk i used to cover the loss of words with i like you
when you started flirting with me
i should’ve whispered in your ear how much i wanted to kiss you at that moment

see, even the unsaid have the force, the ability to control
i could’ve asked as this dragged along, whatever this was,
what are we? are we on the same page?
clearly im lost but instead i went along,
with your tales and dreamy prose and realistic fables
no, we didnt need a label to be grounded
unlost, baby i just needed to be on the same ground as you
i didn’t need to be unbound from the boundaries
so we kept on spinning a web of words
filling up pages
everything that happened, dragged along our story
it seemed as if i was your papergirl
and all along you held no strings, just matches,
that kindled my paper heart

-caela m.

remember that time when you were just a child and everything around you were gigantic, monstrous masterpieces? the main significance was the night sky; it was your first love and not the boy who happened to be your next door neighbor when you were eight. it’s just everytime you looked at it, it gave to a sense of wisdom. you knew the world and the secrets it behold, protected by the stars. yo didn’t have the need to unravel them. and of course, you can’t forget the moon who you sang songs with all those times. for once in your life, you were content with the art of being. magic surrounded you as you stood there, six feet underneath a world unknown. if you reached out one hand with your tiny quirky fingers, you swear you could’ve flown, you could’ve made gravity drop to zero. and just like that, levitate and be one with the stars, closely bask in the moonlight. you could’ve been to neverland, just the second star to the right. you could’ve landed yourself into a kingdom of galactic wonder, strung up constellations based on all the cool stories you’ve made up in your head; everything could’ve fallen into place.
but you pulled your small fingers back, clutched them into a fist and looked up again in awe.  not today you whisper
it was a dream child you had. a promise kept-that one day you’d lift your hand and let the sky take you, guard their secrets, journey to another world.
come years pass, and you look up at the same sky you fell in love with as a kid with a totally different perception.
the magic’s all gone and everything’s just as it seems.
so you tilt your head up at the striking, mocking entity six feet above
deep breaths. then you extend a hand outwards
you’re ready to go somewhere else, where you belonged once; where you are from
you’re ready to fly and bear no weight at all, leave these baggage from all the cosmic showers that occurred through time.
you’re ready to infinitely witness the wonder and be a part of it
you open your eyes and you’re still standing on the ground;nothing
you reach out farth e r     f           a         r        t        h       e            r
then you realize it’s a lost cause
here’s a promise you thought you could keep
it was just a one time offer and now your luck has ran out
you could be with the stars;
but you don’t have a spacesuit
or a rocket to blast you off
or a pair of wings
not even the mere ability to float into thin air
you could’ve had it all
if you took two steps forward
exerting all the force you’ve got in your entirety
you would’ve reached the stars,
snagged one
-or so you thought
because there’s this invisible force that drags you back everytime you do
all you can do is watch it all from a distance
somewhere up there formed by constellations

you lie under the moon
under the rain soaked grass
with a head full of dreams
dreams trapped in jars tightly sealed because if dared open, they’d shatter around you
showered in shooting stars

-caela m.

there are these girls
with flowing golden hair radiating against their vibrant auras on a sunset along the shore
and those girls,
with icicles in their stares who spoke sentences that leave you with a frostbite

there are summer girls and winter girls;

and she’s more of a summer girl;

i can see why you fell for her- the sun- and all the forest fires she’s started in the crevices of your paperheart, torches lighting up every time you hold her hand
of course who can forget the orange glow the world around gets every time her lips are against yours?
she’s the epitome of a perfect sky capturing all the gleam you’ve ever and never thought of

then comes the winter girl

a hundred and one warnings about her have been told
number one: she’s crystalline and soon you’ll be nothing but jagged cracks
number two:she’s not as pure as snow is
number three: you do not want to turn into a hypothermic misanthropy so run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run

yet somehow underneath the layers of her icy composure lie delicate snowflake structures. you get a glimpse of what’s underneath the tip of the iceberg

and she proved the warnings wrong one at a time
it’s like you’re iceskating for the first time, tripping, but she’s there to catch you just in time. she’ll remind you of the giddiness of the snowball fights you had with your childhood friends all those decembers ago. being with her is as right as a warm cup of chocolate on the first snowfall
and you dwell in her chilling comfort once the sun vanishes, taking away your summer girl

but in the end,
you still choose to end up with your summer girl and the bronze sparkling moments
leaving the wintergirl caught up in her blizzards in reckless abandon , existence crumbling

and i understand why
for who would choose having no permanent residence over a fully furnished home?

but then i should have told you from the start,the secret:
you shan’t choose between those girls
or even turn them into something but just a plain casualty
because summer girls’ flames will engulf your whole being until you’re robbed of the capacity to blow out the candles
you’ll strike all the matches you can find just so the love will never turn lukewarm
and you’ll thaw the winter girl’s frozen soul even if it numbs you to the core

these girls, they’re powerful gypsies,
personifications of destructive illustrious love

-caela m.