Can anyone else see that blinding light?

This doesn't have a name yet.... it is a snapshot.

How could this be,
this surely can't be real.
This wasn't meant to happen,
in a way I hoped it never would.
Safe within the world of words
I lived day after day,
abstractly hoping for you to come
but wishing stronger for you to stay away.
Sentences are safe, are sure,
the rules stand firm and strong.
Structure lives in and on and around
the pages, they weave inward, outward
gripping me tightly as they sing their knowing tone.
But my land full of known and wondrous things
doesn't brush a hand across my cheek.
There are no rules dictating how I must feel
when your lips whisper those words to me.
Your skin, rougher than my own
glides and softly molds to my own:
hair so black, like silken onyx,
twines so effortlessly through my fingers.
Fear pulsates through my veins,
terror grips fiercely at my heart.
You are not predictable,
this feeling, these passions are out of my control.
I want you more than I could spell
with words thought of long ago,
but you don't fit between my pages,
you don't confine to my safe, meatphorical world.

Dear chaos, it's me, Sara

Today I stood in my room for 15 minutes just contemplating the disaster that it is in.... just wondering what to do. Everything is in a state of disorganization. I want it clean. CLEAN! But I don't have the slightest idea of how to attack it, so it remains status quo. It stays a disaster and I avoid it at all costs.

My life is in total shambles I feel. I know what I need to do... I think. I don't want stability, or anything that lofty in my life, but I do have dreams, wonderful dreams that I want to become reality but all I do is stand and stare at them, begging me to make them a reality. I have no idea how to reach out and grab them... I'm so afraid to just take the plunge.

So my room, and my life .... status quo.

Chaotic, yet never moving.

I'm ready for movement, I'm ready for true, unadultered chaos.

There is nothing stable in the world; uproar's your only music. ~John Keats

Bring on the storm

Haze

I am confused. Confusion has become the state I live in. I want it to end.

Blah, blah, blah

Sometimes I feel like the most foolish person there is in this world. I can contemplate the relationships historically between 3 events that occurred thousands of years apart but I can't seem to have any idea on how to not be alone. I am tired. I am tired of hoping for things that will never be and forgetting every single time how it stings.

I'm tired. And sad. And done.