She That Is Me That Is We

Quote 10Notes

To tell an artist to stop creating, to put their imagination away in a glass bottle. To deny the writer the option of putting words together in any poetic capacity. Is to deny air to the lungs , blood to the heart, food to the stomach and thought to the mind. It is not only deadly and suicidal but a near a futile mission.

The writer cannot help creating art out of the frustration they feel and they will canvas the moment and save it for later use, when they are able to pen the emotion on paper.

–

~Melodicrose aka Camellia Morris~

(One of the many lessons I’ve learned since I first decided I wanted to be a writer at age 10. It is my response to those who believe I will not reach my goals)
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throughdeafeyes asked: Don't want to ask anything, only letting you know I like the piece you posted. I'm new to the idea of publicly expressing my writings. Keep posting.

thank u… U should definitely post too. The more vulnerable you are on paper is the more people will connect with you so if you have something to say go ahead and share :)


Audio 20Notes
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

This is just one of the many reasons why I love Audra McDonald 


Quote 1Notes

Fashion doesn’t always show in the clothes you wear, but sometimes its simply shown in how you wear your face. Be simple. Be exotic. Show yourself.

– (via onyx-clue) Via CELLO/NEEDLE
Photo 2Notes
I wanted to write a word for every single one I’d lost. Find a way to jot down arbitrary thoughts, against a backdrop of endless design. But this heart cannot be mapped. Or organized. It speaks for itself  with a voice much louder than you  and I would tell it to hush If I thought it would do better. If I thought it would matter to you. If I knew that once upon a time I held a place  in the depths of your soul. One of these days when the clock has stopped ticking and the wall has frozen. We’ll take off these coats called flesh  and hang them in the closet. We’ll remove smiles and show forth the scowl  that plays on the edge  of your mouth. One of these days  I’ll find the meaning behind the words good bye I’ll find the joy in solitude and know   there is beauty in light reflecting off of sidewalk. There is beauty in learning how to smile. There is such joy  in taking life for all it’s worth and learning to value love for all it’s worth. Until then I’ll write about you. Journal about you in between pages where you mean less than nothing. Have faded into my memory  as if you were nothing more than smoke vanishing into the night. As if you were nothing more than some lovely  but forbidden dream.  ~Camellia Morris~

I wanted to write

a word for every single one I’d lost.

Find a way to jot down

arbitrary thoughts,

against a backdrop

of endless design.

But this heart cannot be mapped.

Or organized.

It speaks for itself 

with a voice much louder than you 

and I would tell it to hush

If I thought it would do better.

If I thought it would matter to you.

If I knew that once upon a time

I held a place 

in the depths of your soul.

One of these days

when the clock has stopped ticking

and the wall has frozen.

We’ll take off these coats

called flesh 

and hang them in the closet.

We’ll remove smiles

and show forth the scowl 

that plays on the edge 

of your mouth.

One of these days 

I’ll find the meaning behind the words

good bye

I’ll find the joy

in solitude

and know  

there is beauty in light

reflecting off of sidewalk.

There is beauty in learning how to smile.

There is such joy 

in taking life for all it’s worth

and learning to value love for all it’s worth.

Until then I’ll write about you.

Journal about you

in between pages

where you mean less than nothing.

Have faded into my memory 

as if you were nothing more

than smoke

vanishing into the night.

As if you were nothing more

than some lovely 

but forbidden dream. 

~Camellia Morris~


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