Daze.

Your eyes, half closed, look at me 
out of the corners and see the sides of me 
I didn't give you permission to see, just yet. 
But you took it and for a while I didn't mind, 
when I felt your hand on mine, 
but i'd kindly ask for those stolen
glances to be returned, for I 
do not know the intentions behind them. 
But you can keep them, gladly, if you want them
I'll give them to you, gladly, if you need them
and when your eyes finally shut and 
I'm the one beside you
I'll keep those stolen glances in mind as I leave 
my trace behind --
a subtle trail of pieces blending in with the ground they rest on 
waiting for the moment you come looking for them, 
hoping you're the one that reached the end where I'm found
waiting, wishing, but not promising if the face I see is new, 
until then I'll wish for you. 

Claim

The reason I'm not yours
and you haven't staked your claim
is somewhere in your core, 
you'll soon forget my name.

Fragments

True beauty rests in the culmination of the pieces. 

Shards and shattered fragments scattered across the ambiguity that is 

humanity. 

Individually they're weak and unattended, 

seeking to serve a purpose,

unaware of the final picture. 

How desperate these pieces are to mend with those broken from the same

and how sad it would be if that were the only place they sought to be

It is in the culmination of the pieces, which are your own 

melting into those that are not. 

Mending various fragments originating from two

breathing and broken souls. 

These pieces, not shards of glass, 

rigid and unchanging, 

but malleable forms

able to be whole simply with pieces of their own

but able to be new with fragments from another. 

-Hailey

TIME

Time is something I seem to always return to in my thoughts and writing. 

The essence of time:

It is conditional. It is fleeting. It is measured. It is rushed. It is valued. It is precious. 
Time is taken for granted. It is abused and undervalued. It is savored and cherished. 

Time is all we have. Moments & minutes that fill each day as it comes, each day as it passes. 

We reflect on time. Regret time wasted and admire time spent productively. 

Time is created and symbolic of humanity. That which we have shaped and formatted for ourselves defines our lives. Our work, our schedules, our birthdays and our memories are all a reflection of this man-made concept of time. 

Time is yours. Welcome it. 

What does time mean to you?

Hailey x