with you…under white linen sheets.

with you.  under white linen sheets. is where i want to be in bed.  no longer alone. where we lay awake full in love free of heartbreak. wrapped in sunlight where we can live out our dreams in each other’s arms while kissing beneath the stars and chasing moon beams. we’ll smile from the happiness…

if our timing is true.

oh, matthew barber, how you make my heart swoon. his lyric, “if our timing is true,” is the epitome of my broken hearted mixtape.  the bittersweet truism of a wild child wanting to love and be loved while remaining free. gypsies are romantics too.  but that’s a secret between me and you. if our timing…

who is your hadley?

You would think that with the passage of time, not being with you or hearing from you, you would fade away, but no, you are as much with me now as you were then.
Hemingway to his Hadley.

crazy heart.

i aspire to be a writer.  i suppose i am a writer.  i am committed to sharing stories; telling stories.  literary vulnerability from my brain to your eyes.  to read.  to digest.  to digress.  it seems though that through my own reading — and research — i often come across a poet or a writer…