lovely thoughts transposed to prose darling xx

thanks lovely (:

Like the Stars

You, like the stars,
gone by morning.

Your light, like the stars,
spanning a vast expanse.
Not condensed, not enough to light
the way for one—

not a moon—

never close enough to be my sun.

Hi Sydney! First of all you're incredibly stunning! Second, I really love your words. And your Advice page was SO helpful for me. So thank you for that! And third... I want to ask you something since I really love your work. The other day I heard someone say that if you write in your computer instead of writing in paper then your work isn't the same "quality" and it doesn't have the same "value" what do you think about it? ...

Writing is an art form that I believe develops, as other art forms do. For a painting to be considered a high form of art, one used to only be able to paint realism—like the Mona Lisa. But now pop art, once considered a low art form, by Andy Warhol and action paintings by Jackson Pollock have also become worth millions and are displayed in museums. Literature used to be recorded on clay tablets in Mesopotamia—should we all continue to write on clay because it is difficult and is one of the original means for recording? Most writers continue to upgrade their tools based on the current technology: paper, typewriters, electronic typewriters, word processors, computers. Each method has its benefits and downfalls but the means for writing should be left up to the writer’s preference. In the end, no one is really going to know how the piece was written. Even if a writer slaves over countless sheets of paper with notes in the margins and lines crossing out passages—if what he is writing is crap, it’s still going to be crap regardless of the tools he used to write it or the perseverance he showed by using such a time-consuming method. A typewriter generally forces a writer to choose words more carefully and precisely because of its permanent nature—but that doesn’t necessarily mean a writer will skillfully do so, nor does it mean a writer cannot choose the same words on a computer screen. Ultimately, the quality of your work is found in your skill as a writer and in your completed work—not in the way you choose to write that work.


I always liked the phrase “catch some rays,”
I liked the idea of sun
caught like a baseball in a mitt
on the surface of my skin
as if somehow my body leapt up from the bleachers
and caught the foul ball
and just held this sphere of sunlight
somewhere inside.

I love every single one of your poems. Please keep them coming, you have an amazing talent! :)

thank you so much (:

Diet Coke and Mentos

I left my heart out too long, waiting,
leaving it there for anyone—
its effervescence ran flat like a can of coca cola.

Needed someone to wind up the key in my back
falling in love with any smile directed my way
but when I was put to their lips
they felt no bubbles

and their smiles became mouths in a yearbook photo.

Twisting me just enough turns to
step and stumble my way to someone else.

But when my clockwork gears stopped in front of you
I thought you’d kiss like the others—
you put your lips to mine and only breathed out into me
to put the carbon dioxide back in

before kissing me with a Mentos mint beneath your tongue
and I came alive in an explosion of fizz.

I, Your Body is a Graveyard, Wanderlust, I Will be Okay, Dreamed You, Mobile, I could go on and on. They are so so beautiful and alive and relatable I want to read them over and over and over. Truly. This ask doesn't even have a point to it, I guess just that your words are amazing if you didn't already know :)

This is what inspires me to keep writing, thank you (:

Solar Powered

It is in the chilled summer nights
divided into halves of dark and light
by car headlights

and the sky is a colored spin-art painting—
a burst of carnation-poppy-snowball-bush buds
and blooms and petals among clouds

and our half of the globe steers us
toward manmade light-switch hours
and golden specks of window glow
between deepest shades of blue

I know that I am solar-powered

collecting rays in the sunshine hours
like garden lamps strewn among the vegetables.

I rise as the sun sets and sparkle with the stars;
energy and brightness stored
emits as dance steps in stilettos
and lips to glasses—
lips to lips

and I light up the night.

I just wanted to say, from one writer to another, that I enjoy your poetry. It's beautiful. Also, do you have any tips for writers starting out on Tumblr?

Thank you!

I’ve given similiar advice before:

Let me know if that isn’t enough (:

Dreamed You

“There must have been moments even that afternoon when Daisy tumbled short of his dreams – not through her own fault, but because of the colossal vitality of his illusion. It had gone beyond her, beyond everything. He had thrown himself into it with a creative passion, adding to it all the time, decking it out with every bright feather that drifted his way. No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart.”
—F. Scott Fitzgerald

I’ve created fantasies of you
in my mind.
I’ve sculpted you in glass bottles
like sand art
adding layers of color and glitter
filled it up to the rim
and left no breathing space—
stopped you with a cork,
stuffed you in a crackerjack bag
and made you the prize.

Pitched a striped tent
around your figure
and made you the ringleader
of feathered elephants,
stilt-walking men,
trapeze artists,
tightrope walkers—
but I’ve fed you to the lions.

Dreamed you up of daises,
tied your stems together with blue ribbon;
but a bouquet never looks as good
as it does the moment picked.

I’ve drawn lines on the walls
of your parents’ home
above the last mark your mother made
measuring your height—
you will always fall short.