About Me

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Boston, Massachusetts, United States
Listen to the mustn'ts, child. Listen to the don'ts. Listen to the shouldn'ts, the impossibles, the won'ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me... Anything can happen, child. Anything can be. Shel Silverstein

Monday, January 31, 2011


Ethan and I started a journal between each other when we first starting dating in the fall of 2008. We wrote each other letters, poems, bible verses, ideas, and drew pictures. We eventually stopped out of forgetfulness and laziness but just recently decided to continue where we left off. I included a couple of my favorite poems from both of us. Remember that we were both only 17, and were trying to impress each other with our artistic poem- writing abilities. I don't claim any of them to be technically great, but they are beautiful in emotion behind the words.

I'll always be right here for you, up in a tree by your heart. I won't be a verse in the poetic sky; I won't be slang to the ground and the earth. I'll be right in the middle, eclectic. Expanded in perfect harmony, I'll be in a tree. God is the roots, and they keep us grounded. Our faith is the trunk that provides a sturdy base. Our love is the branches that continually grow, towards the poetic sky. The leaves are the shade of green radiating from your eyes, every time I tell you that I love you.

-October 28, 2008

Duck Duck Goose:
A heavy hand falls upon you.
Chase me.
Color outside the lines.
Run outside the circle.
Keep following, we will end up somewhere.
Dizzy due to ring-a-round the rosy,
I am not suited to lead.
Yet you still follow.
We will end up somewhere.
Names whispered in the distance.
We have lost.
The game, not each other.
Hide and seek, neither are It.
We just keep running.
We will end up somewhere.
I trip on a dandelion, you trip on me.
We fall upon each other, for each other,
Our wishes float upon us.
Piggy-back ride.
You are leading now.
We will end up somewhere.

-October 28, 2008

An allusion of you
Alluding to things you've never yet done

But the dawn how it murders
A sky that bleeds autumn
drenched with faint pastels of sun beaten scars
Aura writing guidelines
with stares of endearment
brief intoxication
consumed and it's gone

But yet into the twilight
Dusk how it travels
An effervescent light
Still discerned in pure view
A light eternal
A light of endearment
Shining through the depths of my core

An allusion of you
Alluding to things of angelic prosper

-December 2, 2008

You steal my breath like bubbles floating
Their direction is subjective,
protected by a fragile faith
of detergent, until they reach
your cheek in sweet soft kisses
of raptive rupture.

Alone with my breath, you have taken my words.
I stutter and stumble over my attempts of transforming my heart into script.
Where you stumble, there lies your treasure.
Silence is the proper vocabulary for love.
When you utter words in hopes of description, the danger is that the words will trap you.
Our limited vocabulary is what binds us, what ties us up.

Let the poets struggle to describe our hearts.
Let us gulp down silence; awe.
Awe is what moves us forward.
Awe in the depths of my heart.
it's floor does not exist.
We will keep swimming in silence.

-November 13, 2008

over and out.

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