Word: oh, hello friend.

{via ffffound, no trackback}

i dream a dream
in a room
with balloons above
thirteen balloons
the room is colored
red and white
where am i going
do you remember
up up and away
i go
perhaps i can fly
to castles in the sky
or by the sea
stay a while
here with me
be my friend
and we can fly
around the moon
feel the sun
then awakened
i will await
return soon to
my world of dreams

A big thank you to Danni of oh, hello friend for sharing her words! Be sure to check out her lovely, inspirational blog as well as her darling shop.


Word: T.ruffles + Mackin Ink.

it was one of those morning-nights. the sort of night when a tipsy moon must’ve handed out lighters to all the cool stars. hazy in my memories and just as forever never-ending.

she’d been gone for two days, which was exactly two days and maybe an hour of argument as long as my parents hadn’t smiled and my stomach had ached. my sister was a thief that way, stealing our happy when we weren’t watching.

but i wouldn’t make that mistake again, i promised my seven-year old self. i would watch more closely from now on. i promise. so there i waited, at the top of the stairs, for one more chance to watch her again. i’ve never been one to wait, not at seven and not at now. i’ve, however, always been one to sleep away sadness, and it must’ve been my dad’s shouts that shocked me awake. a double-shock, because that guy never yelled.

“i’m gonna to trade you for a dog!”


i’m getting a dog? and just like that, all was well. who cared about my sister? i mean, i’d miss her, but…

“…and then i’m gonna shoot the dog!”

“NOOOOOO!” i flew from my perch, landing in a clump of sobbing me at the bottom of the stairs. “my puppy! my puppy! don’t kill my puppy!”

my sister hiccoughed. steadied herself. then giggled. my dad scooped me up and my mom smoothed my unsmoothable hair, and they all smiled at my tears and delusion. didn’t i remember? i was allergic to dogs.

and just like that, all was well. we would be keeping my sister. not trading her for a dog. not trading her for the world.

this isn’t just a hazy childhood memory. i know this because my sister was a thief her entire life. she stole our happy forever never-ending when she died.

written by karey mackin. one half of t.ruffles. if you haven’t ordered an imaginary friend mini print/note card collection, you should. and if you haven’t read her blog, mackin ink, well, you’re missing out.


Word: Crow and Canary.

{via ffffound}

A lady for whom people make assumptions about.
Her vermilion lipstick is the only rebellion she allows herself.
She reflects a stranger few, if any, truly cipher.

A woman in which nothing is insurmountable.
She prays that her momma’s heart isn’t shattered by the news.
On this stagnant summer evening, everything changes.

~ written by Carina of Crow and Canary ~

Word: Daisy Chain.

{image via ffffound}

third date {dinner at my place}

goosebumps + giddyness

he’s so lovely, I can’t stop smiling

the soufle has fallen, but he hasn’t noticed

I wonder if he can see my heart through this dress?

when he smiles he looks bashful, dark eyelashes looking down

fresh, new, uninterrupted love

this will make for a beautiful memory

always, in this moment

Thanks for the sweet words, Amber! You can read more of her lovely musings over at Daisy Chain.


Word: Bread of Many.

{via ffffound, no source}

I wish…

…I wish I was as loyal as ‘Dusty Springfield’ by the Haywains

…I wish I was as charming as ‘C is the Heavenly Option’ by Heavenly

…I wish I was as brave as ‘Birthday’ by the Sugarcubes

…I wish I was as confident as ‘Crazy’ by Pylon

…I wish I was as optimistic as ‘Rise and Shine’ by the Cardigans

I wish I was music to someone’s ears.

Thanks to Haley of Bread of Many for this week’s super creative Word! Spin on over to her etsy shop for an eyeful of awesomeness.


Word: Wide Open Spaces.

Felix and Marta ring to say that they’ll be staying back as baby Eloise is teething. Her fever seems to be rising as does the decibel of those siren toned yelps in the background.

It is only then that I realize I am famished, haven’t eaten a thing all day.

Hair set, face on, I go the kitchen to chill the champagne.

Sweet Celeste calls bubbly and bright. She got the gig and will be opening tonight downtown at the Cigar Bar. I tell her to break a leg and she laughs like a bell choir.

I set the music low and lights lower.

Leroy phones. He’s working late and I really, probably shouldn’t expect him at all. Knowing Leroy, I don’t.

All is grand, as these types of things really are better suited for fewer folks anyway. Still, should any one else care to cancel …and que sera sera….I only fear that my skirt won’t fasten.

:: Many thanks to the author, Emily of Wide Open Spaces!


Word: Capturing the Seven.

I think I lost him…

Thank goodness I decided to wear these black boots and not those white stilettos my high-fashion mother wanted me so desperately to don on my wide, athletic feet. These cobblestone streets and high heels would have been a recipe for disaster. Or at least a host of cuts and scrapes taking residence on my knees.

No one could understand why I wanted to wear a short white dress. Non-conformist they called me. Who wears a short white dress? I do, I told them. I will, I asserted to them. I am, I proclaimed to them when they greeted me after the ceremony. It was then that they ceremoniously glanced from my perfectly pinned back hair on down to the thin strand of pearls around my neck and sighed with relief. ‘At least she did two things normal’ they were thinking. ‘Normal’. I had begun to hate the word about 6 months ago and it made my blood boil more and more every time I heard it. Why do things have to be ‘normal’? Why can’t they have personality? Or just be our way? Why not?

The plan was hatched after the third month of hearing “Why not do it this way? It’s the normal way to do it.” There was a reason we suggested eloping a year ago. It was to avoid days like this but of course neither side of our families could accept it. So as we went along with “their” plan, we wrote up our own. After the cutting of the cake we would each sneak off without detection; everyone would have had their fair share of champagne, vodka gimlets, and sugar by then. They wouldn’t notice as we left out of separate exits only to meet about 10 minutes away at our favorite bistro. They wouldn’t notice a thing.

And they didn’t. Except the photographer. I couldn’t help myself! I wanted to document the first day of the rest of our lives. As I was sneaking toward the exit to make my escape, I realized that I hadn’t brought my own camera and the hired photographer’s would be the one that I was taking with me. And so I grabbed it and ran.

And here I am now. One block away from my new husband; who will be ready to run away with me. To live our lives the way we want. As non-normal as we want. With a ‘borrowed’ camera and all…

:: written by Jennifer of Capturing the Seven


Word: A Print a Day.

And the stars came down tonight and greeted me.
And kissed me.
And their kisses tickled my skin.
And they felt like what stars would feel like.
Or how I imagined them to feel like.
And I smiled for the first time in the longest time.
And I cried for the first time in the longest time.
And I lost myself.
In darkness. In light.
In dreams of stars and midnight.

written by Yasmine of A Print a Day


Word: concrete and honey.

You may have thought this to be a romantic gesture.
Just as you may be surprised to learn.
That I am not part of this memory.
This girl isn’t me.
Do you not wonder what you were trying to hide?
Does she know you cut off her head?
She’s wearing red.
I don’t. I’d never.
Even though I feel like I’m bleeding.
I do like they buttons though. I bet you do too. The way they curve with the shape of her ‘topography’.
Where is this gate? Where did you take her?
Don’t bother answering.
I won’t be around to hear your response.
She’s too young. She wears ribbons in her hair.
What have you done?

written by Nicola of concrete and honey