The Purpose of All This

This blog is to…

Welcome to The Depth of My Love! I’m Ivy, nice to meet you!

This blog is mainly for my poetry and the occasional writing piece that I turn out. This blog is to post deep thoughts, pictures, and quotes to inspire you. I needed somewhere to write these thoughts down, with hope that they’ll make a difference in the world.

My blog has truly become where I can let out all of my frustrations and excitement and fantasies into poetry that you can enjoy. And all of your lovely support for my poetry makes me so so happy!

I hope this blog can be a little tiny corner of the internet that can hold the world’s most important truths.

So, without further ado, I give you The Depth of My Love. I hope you stick around!

If anyone reads this

They’ll see me

Not just smart me

But the depths of me

~Ivy

Why I Walked Away

i touch your face

trace your lips with my thumb

and i wonder why they all raised my expectations so high

the tv shows the teen novels the love that doesn’t actually exist everywhere

 

they’ve ruined me

i don’t think i can have you

i don’t think i deserve you

when sometimes all i can think about is them

 

i know the perfection isn’t real

they’re just words on a page

sometimes i reach out for them

and and my fingers bump into a hollow screen

 

i can’t touch you anymore

my skin is acid

my touch is poison

i’m sorry

 

~but i don’t deserve you

Superficially Broken

Why does my heart get broken by people that aren’t even real?

Maybe it’s because I’ll never find anyone like them – because I know the world is too superficial to create someone like that.

Maybe it’s the world that’s broken – not me.

Sinful

your mouth rushes to meet mine

the feather-light brush of your fingertips down the lines of my collarbones makes me shiver

your head bends to trace the same path

your hands grip my hips and pull me closer

muscles tense as i jump and you hold me while my legs wrap around you

a few heart-pounding minutes later we let everything go

as for that new mattress  …

                                                   we didn’t quite make it

 

 

How I Heal

Moment.

That moment when your foot is falling towards the next place you need to step – and you don’t know if that rock is steady but you have to step on it, have to keep moving – that is the moment I live for  – whether I land unscathed or not.

 

Steady.

The pleasant clomp of my hiking boots – it’s amazing what a pair of shoes can do to a person – they make me feel steady and confident – I know I won’t slip with them on – whether I’m climbing the hardest trail on the mountain or flirting with you.

 

Peak.

Hours of picking out places to step and going up and up and up are so worth it. So worth it when I can see a small part of the world’s vastness from the top, when I can scream fuck as long and as loud as I want to, when I can sit in the sun’s glow and write, content to be alone with my words. A place where no one can judge me or challenge me, because I made it here perfectly fine by myself.

 

Promise.

And to you, the peak I have not yet reached, the ladders that scared me, the rocks that have cut open my leg, I will master you someday. I will climb both of your jutting peaks. And when I do, well, the world had better watch out.

 

Needs.

There are physical needs – food, shelter, clothing. There are the needs that fuel my soul – mastering the mountain.

 

Maybe.

I’ll master the mountain – perhaps I’ll kiss you on its heights someday – our lips tasting like the salt of sweat.

 

Machine.

There are many things I want to do in life. The one I hope for the most is mastering my body, turning it into something greater than it was when I was born. I want to learn how to fight, do back flips, more than two pull-ups, parkour, how to do that cool thing where you knock the gun out of the person’s hand and end up pointing it at them, and so much more.

 

Fierce.

I don’t just want to go to the top of a mountain, I want to run up the damn thing.

 

Long story short, I need to go hiking. I thought I’d put it into writing.

-Ivy

Used to.

Lonely.

when I was in love

there was a tsunami of words

rushing forth from within me

 

now i’m caged

lonely but for a few hours each day

depressed

i don’t feel like writing

the few words that appear in my mind down

 

all i want

is to get out of that gods-damned place

that has trapped me for five years

so sick of its constant popularity contest

every day brings me closer to the end

but it seems the days left multiply

 

maybe it’s a good thing everything fell apart now

so i was only alone

for a few months

instead of a few years

 

i’m so ready to leave

so ready to feel like i belong

somewhere


 

i want to scream

but when i try my throat dries up

 


 

Maybe.

i wish i had been better

maybe she wouldn’t have made you hate me

maybe i could have put a little goodness in your life

to counter her

 

how did we let one person

destroy four years of friendship

in a matter of months?

 

now you don’t want to talk to me

i have to plan what to say to you

and if you don’t hear me when i say it the first time

i just say never mind afraid that what i had to say was stupid

 

maybe i fucked up

maybe you left for her

maybe she fucked us up

 

what matters is that we’re fucked

fucked up into tiny sparkling pieces

still flying through the air towards my skin

it hurts as they find their home

drawing blood from deep beneath my skin

 

whatever.

it’s too late now.

isn’t it?

my heart breaks when i think good riddance

 

i always wanted to share high school with you

until now

and now

i have to share high school with her.

 

-Ivy

All my poetry sucks lately – it’s just a mess of shitty feelings. At least when I had those light crush feelings my poetry made sense.

Everything used to make sense.

used to.

 

Had you been there

you would have ran over to me in a heartbeat

we’d start gushing about how much

we love Annabel Lee.

 

But you weren’t.

Because of the force that had kept us separated since the sixth grade

the same force that had left me with friends

who left me.

 

She said she’d promised her

that she would come

but no

she’d promised me.

 

Sorry all my poetry is a nonsense rant. I don’t have time to explain. Never enough time. Never enough years under my belt because had I already had a driver’s license and car I would have been gone, gone, gone.

Summer is coming in 20 school days but I’ll only get to do one thing I want the whole time. I need a therapeutic hiking trip that I probably won’t get. I need to climb to the top of huge rocks and scream. I need those moments where your foot is falling to the next place to step and you don’t know if it’s stable but you have to keep moving. I need to add another scar to the growing map of adventures on my skin.

I need to be able to run away on my own, but instead I’m stuck for two more years. A part of the reason I need to scream.

More nonsense. Ugh. At any rate, I hope your week was better than mine.

-Ivy

 

Rejection

Whoever knew

it would hurt that much

until it happened to them

 

But maybe the reason it hurt so much

is because the people who looked away

there were twenty-six of them

including you

 

After four years

and all we’ve done for each other

you wouldn’t sit

at the empty desks surrounding me

 

I’m not worth ten minutes of your time anymore

but at least I’m ready for it

I’ve had a lot of practice being alone while surrounded by “friends”

time to put it to good use.