The Laundry List of Stories I Want to Write But Probably Never Will

I restarted my blog this week, the last day of May, and it's pretty darn cool, this new aesthetic of mine. it's scribbling down the remnants of my heart in the back of a rusted-out trailer. It reminds me of the pastor who lit a truck on fire for his graduation before he came to Christ. It makes me want to write about good Christian girls and those who have to fight off the Enemy with whatever they can muster. I see it in a romance that sweeps me away. In the loyalty of good friends who never leave me. The exhilaration in driving a golden-metallic car named Champagne down streets called home. It's dancing in a deserted parking lot and shouting along to badass lyrics I know all the words to but have never thought about. It's swapping out the middle finger for "I love you." It's coming into myself and my style, of thinking past tomorrow. Of shedding the skin I've been trying to wear for so long - nevermind that it hasn't fit in so long. 

So here's to the stories left untold. To the:

Good Girls Golden and Youth at Large and Recompense and Black-Eyed Susan and Queen Anne's Lace and Windbreaker and Disassociated and The Message Inside and The Road to Requiem and The Wanderer and The Sea is Not Full.

So write me poetry, heart of mine. I want to be more than a journalist but rather a weaver of words. A lover, a bulwark of life and liberty. A reminder that this is what it means to live. Set me on fire and let me drift into ashes on my own, the dust settling wherever it chooses.