″ᴡ ᴏ ʀ ᴅ s” is a book of writing that came from within.

for a long time, i’ve held in how i feel. i don’t really talk about the things that bother me, i don’t go into detail about some of my past.

writing this book and these pieces has been a way for me to finally let go of the things i’ve bottled up for so long, to finally let go of all the pain. it’s been a way for me to open up and bare a bit of my soul to the world.

i will admit, i started this as a way to try and get my work out there. i wanted to try and make myself known to a wide variety of people. in writing this, i’ve discovered that i don’t need the approval of a ton of people. i just want my words to impact someone, even if it’s only one person.

so to you, the person reading this, i hope you find something you’ve been searching for among these words.

-m.s.

it’s been three years,

but i’ve finally come to

terms with it.

this is where the fault lies.

i should’ve known better

than to give my heart

to a boy who couldn’t

give me his.

i should’ve seen

the signs.

i should’ve seen

what i was getting into.

i should’ve loved me

before i ever loved

you.

-m.s.

#freeverse #heartbreak #love

there’s so much cliche

around eyes like yours.

there’s a million stories,

a million comparisons,

every single one to

the ocean,

the sky.

i hate to become the author

of another commonplace cliche,

but my god,

i’ve drowned in them.

they really are like the ocean.

they dragged me in like the tide,

sucking me into the depths

of your soul.

the gaze that washes over

from the calming blue

is enough to erode any walls

i had ever tried to build.

all it took

was one single glance,

one moment of contact,

because my god...

i fell in love with

your blue eyes.

-m.s.

it’s a sunday evening.

he said you guys had a whole week

to think about things.

another rough patch, another disagreement.

is it worth continuing?

you think so.

it’s a monday morning.

you dread going back and

seeing his face.

you dread the entire week,

not sure what’s going to happen.

you face the day regardless,

you hope for the best.

it’s a monday afternoon.

he approaches you and your friends.

pulling you aside, he says the thing

you hoped you wouldn’t hear.

you hug him

one

last

time.

he leaves,

leaving you in tears,

watching your friends

hug you, tell you

it’s going to be ok

as the tears flow heavily.

but will it?

it’s three months later,

an early wednesday afternoon.

everyone is out walking.

darling, this is not your day.

she came out of nowhere,

attacking you because she

didn’t know better.

you spend a day excused from class,

some of your closest friends there

with you.

once more, the tears flow.

what have you done to deserve this?

unexpectedly, he comes in at lunch.

you’re standing there,

fucked up face, swollen finger,

dirty jacket.

he comes over to you,

offering a hug.

in this moment,

a million memories flash back.

you’re surrounded by his scent

once again,

enveloped in his arms -

a place you didn’t think you’d

ever be again.

he tells you

he heard what happened.

he wanted to make sure

you were ok.

how do you tell him

you really aren’t?

how do you tell him

your heart still aches?

how do you tell him

the truth?

simple.

you don’t.

you look at him,

tell him you’re ok.

lie to his face,

hope the tears don’t flow

once again.

darling, you’ll be ok someday.

it’s going to seem rough now

but it will all work out

the way it was meant to.

-m.s.

late evening.

she stands in the bathroom,

staring at her reflection.

she’s spent years despising

the person that stares back at her.

her eyes wander over her body,

her hair, her face, her neck,

her shoulders, her arms, her chest,

her stomach, her legs, her feet.

her mind distorts the mirror,

making her see

the worst.

she hasn’t liked what she sees

in a very long time.

he comes and stands in the doorway,

leaning on the doorframe,

arms crossed over his chest.

“is it happening again?”

he asks, a sad look crossing his face.

she looks at him in the mirror,

tears in her eyes.

“it’s never stopped.”

he walks up behind her,

placing his hands on her waist,

looking at their reflections.

“you know what i see when

i look in the mirror right now?”

he asked her.

she shook her head.

“i see the most amazing person

i’ve ever known.

i see a wonderfully talented person

who can do anything she puts

her mind to.

i see a beautiful, perfect girl

who i fell in love with

the minute i saw her.

she is everything i have

ever wanted,

ever dreamed of having.

she is the other half

that completes me.

i don’t know where i’d be

without her.”

she smiles a real, genuine smile,

the tears running down her face

are happy ones.

he leans down,

whispering in her ear,

“i will never let you forget

how lovely you are”

he looked into the mirror,

making eye contact with her.

they shared a smile, for they knew

this was love -

being there for each other

not only in the higher moments,

but in the lower ones too.

-m.s.

the ones awake at 3am

are many things.

they are the loved,

the lonely,

the artist,

the writer,

the creator,

the silence seeker,

the thinker.

the ones awake at 3am

are the ones looking for something.

purpose,

meaning,

understanding.

they ponder their lives then,

wondering how they could've had

a very different now.

3am is for

the dreamers,

the adventure seekers,

the ones longing for something new.

it is for

the heartbroken and

the heartbreakers.

it is for

the lost and

the found.

it is for

the ones who wish to find themselves

among the words,

the lyrics,

the sky.

3am is for revelation,

for all the thoughts to start to make sense

only to go unmentioned when the sun starts to rise.

3am is not for the light hearted.

it is for the beaten,

the broken,

the hurt,

the healing.