Sep 20, 2013

and maybe i was just dreaming out loud...

if we're only looking back, we will drive ourselves insane 
as frienship goes, resentment grows
we will walk our different ways. 
but these are the days that bind us together, forever
and those little things define us, forever 
// bastille, "bad blood" // 
for a second there, 
I thought you were home. 
after all those lonely nights 
i tossed and turned 
sifting all my dreams 
through the sheets, 
i thought 
i had finally come home 
to dust carved tables and chairs 
and lattice window sills that 
needed a good cleaning.

// and then i left again // 

and things c o l l a p s e d 
into what they always 
had been. i knew 
that they would
when i stepped out the door 
for the last time, 
just as strongly 
as i knew i was falling in love
every time i stepped through the 
(i was fighting hard not to
but falling more and more in love 
every time that door swung open 
and creaked shut, 
was hopelessly inevitable). 
 yet i knew, it wouldn't 
always be this way. 

// it couldn't be. //

i was the impossible girl after all.
but it's still a hard thing to swallow 
when home shuts as easily 
as the leaves of a book 
when that front door slammed 
behind me for the last time. 

life would change, 
or settle back into what you 
call normalcy, 
when i stepped out again 
just as quickly as i came. 
i would start living my life 
in pieces again. 
yes, i would live in the past, 
and you? you would be well 
ahead in the future. 

and you know what happened?
just that.

and maybe it was all just in my head. 
maybe that home really didn't/doesn't 
exist anywhere else except for 
my journal pages and 
the instagram photos 
and the facebook statuses - 
in the fading past that is better 
locked up in the dusty attic. 
maybe i was merely those 
few hours in your head, 
when you are years in mine. 
maybe i was simply dreaming of 
all that we were and all that we could be - 
the life that i would live if ever i 
had the opportunity - 
when i glanced up across the room 
to see you smile and laugh without any restraint. 
guess i was simply 

// dreaming out loud. //

now, i'm here
wondering how i'm 
going to get myself back
h o m e.
listen // one || two || three
|| some instas from late aug. - early sept. || 


  1. oh. my. goodness. GRACIE GIRL. darling, this is incredible; i am blown away by your writing. it is raw, real, full of life, and truth, and absolutely beautiful. it breathes nostalgia, and speaks of aching hearts, and pieces being shattered, then put back together. my heart is just full from reading this. you are amazingly talented, girl, and i'm in love with this.

    love you bunches n' bunches.

  2. grace, just... WOW. beautiful. this writing doesn't read; it speaks. and that's incredible.

    "maybe i was merely those few hours in your head, when you are years in mine."

    that's the line that gets me, and what i think is beautiful is that this line probably doesn't speak to others the way it speaks to me. and that there are probably a dozen other lines that others will pick as the most powerful, and that's a gorgeous thought. that's what this is. that's what beautiful writing is. it's the one line in between the others, tens, thousands, that brings that one reader to tears and it's the other lines in between the other tens and thousands that brings other readers to tears.

    i don't know if that makes sense, but i just wanted to let you know that this is a beautiful post and i'm ditto-ing mikailah when i say my heart is full. you rock. keep writing beautiful stuff.

    now that i've written you a novel... ;)

    1. awww. you ladies are the BEST, ya hear? you just go and move a silly girl to tears.

      and emma, it totally made sense. actually, that is ten times more gorgeous than what i just wrote. and by the way, that line is probably my favorite out of the whole entire thing. ;) suppose that makes us kindreds, eh? :D

  3. First confession: I have never been a freestyle poetry lover.
    Second confession: But I can't get enough of your poetry.
    Third confession: Because when you do it, it's beautiful.
    Fourth confession: I love you this big.
    Fifth confession: I read your letter when I should have been doing school and had no qualms. And it was so wonderful. You are so wonderful.


  4. Oh my goodness love your writing!
    and your journal is so neat I wish I was more creative.
    I was just wondering what do you use to edit your photos?

  5. so beautiful. i could cry. (honestly.)

  6. oh, how your posts amaze me! your writing is so lovely, this makes me want to share mine with the world as well! i just might do that soon.

    lindsey louise

  7. Grace, I can't... um, I can't describe what this just did to my heart. This is beyond amazing and so relevant right now and my heart is crying. I love you so much, sweet friend, and thank you for sharing your thoughts with us because I somehow feel like I just made a connection with you heart. I just love you, and your heart, and your thoughts, and your writing.

    Anyway, I rambling. xx.

  8. Ah Grace, I completely feel you in these words! I feel like I am in exactly the same place as you and everything you wrote down struck a cord in my heart. I've never been able to understand poetry, and I've wanted to. But yours is so simply beautiful that it fits into my head like a piece of a jigsaw. Perfect.


  9. oh, this is beyond beautiful. mikailah stole the words out of my mouth- this makes my heart so full and happy.
    maybe i was merely those few hours in your head,
    when you are years in mine.
    << those lines are so relevant in an entirely different way. my mind has been spinning with thoughts- that maybe sometimes I love too fiercely and hold on too tightly because it seems like almost everybody else doesn't have a problem with letting me go.
    anyways, that line struck a cord in my heart.
    (also your instagrams are so lovely)

    1. Holy, cow, Marcia. Yes, that's exactly how I felt when I wrote those words. So very much so.

  10. oh my God you wrote this and it's perfect and it is so my summer and AH.