I remember this feeling
It twists and weaves,
braided into my soul
Like the secrets we share,
between us it remains
I don't love you...
So give it all back:
the whispers
and stolen moments
my heart
Give it back
and I'll pretend I'm whole
My truth is buried deep,
raging it's war,
catching in my throat
so I can't scream
But nights like those...
we owned the world
The memory remains,
a slow burning fire,
evergreen and bright.
The wild still lingers
Encase it and runaway with me
But no, I don't love you
All posts by May Ling B
Death to writer’s block
What is a best friend? Someone who is genuine, and accepts and respects you without judgement… someone who is trustworthy and forgiving… A best friend is basically someone who loves you for you, with all those awesome flaws. My best friend, my anam cara, truly gets me. She listens (even when I don’t say anything) and will call me out on my shit. She gives the best advice or simply lets me talk through it on my own – give that woman a trophy for all that she has to listen to. But most importantly she supports me in almost everything. My insanely thoughtful best friend gave me just the slightest little push the other day for Christmas and reminded me that I’M A FUCKING WRITER, so I better write something already 🙂
Life throws us curveballs and responsibility and people to love and care for… life gives us every excuse we can ever need to NOT do something. And I let work, family, friends, and even more work overpower my passion and I rationalized I simply do not have time to write anything. When I finally do sit down I realize I have no clue what to even write anymore. I stare at my ideas book, pages from two very unfinished novels, my mixed media art projects and the time just ticks by. I’m so exhausted that I don’t even know what to write. I’m stuck, I’m literally just staring – I’m officially inflicted with the writer’s block… dreadful, awful writer’s block. the kind of writer’s block when everything you write seems like a steaming pile of…. yea, that kind of writer’s block.
Well, the bestie isn’t having it. No, not at all. So instead of saying it 
outright, she gave me presents. And boy, do I love presents with an “s”. She got me magnetic poetry, 642 Things To Write About, a waterproof pad (because who doesn’t have the best ideas in the shower?), and The Writer’s Toolbox. Okay, okay – I hear you lady!! With these gifts, I give in to my new mantra: “Death to writer’s block!”
Crowded Place
In every crowd, in every face, I look for you
with hitched breaths I always see you
until I don’t.
I’ll never stop looking
Post Card Series 20
I miss the days we'll never have
The stolen memories
We'll never share
We met too young
Post Card Series 19
I'm not broken
I say this over
and over
Maybe one day
I'll believe it
Like you do
Post Card Series 18
I never said goodbye
Convinced myself it was
better this way
Even this far away
I pray
to see your face again
Post Card Series 17
I've lost my way
Still everything reminds me of
You
I wish I were home
Post Card Series 16
Do you see the moon?
It's there for me too
I cling to
anything
that ties me
to you
Post Card Series 15
I thought I saw you
I almost ran
But the memories
flooded back
Will I ever you see
again?
Make a Wish
Mei Mei's Musings 