Current Musings – Blog – April Stults Books

I Recognized You

I recognized you

in those stupid blue glasses

when your face was a little fuller,

your heart a little lighter.

I recognized you

and I couldn’t put my finger on how I knew you…

it took your leaving me for my heart to sink

for me to feel

and that abyss was where you found me

running into your arms

ready to burn the whole world down

… and I did, didn’t I?

I felt myself slipping away

so I watched as the fuse burnt all the way

to the end of the world.

I was always the villain,

always the one to end up crushed.

Not because of you,

no….

because I’m not a perfect soul.

my purpose has always been to learn

love is everyone

and within everyone

I recognized you

because I’ve loved you in every lifetime.

we’ll just say

you were only meant to teach me

letting go doesn’t mean the end of love.

having been loved at all was the miracle.

letting go means, you’ve learned to hold space for their love.

I’m glad I recognized you

despite the suffocating sadness that comes with letting you go.

I’m blessed to have known you,

because for those few breaths,

I believed in fairytales and unicorns,

and everything being right in the world.

©AprilStultsBooks2024 Posted: April 4, 2024

Memories

I wrote you a letter

and I boxed up your memories

with every intention of mailing them off

with an offering

a white flag of sorts.

I wrote you a letter

with all the words I’d never be able to say…

but I didn’t mail the letter

and I didn’t mail the box

because I don’t trust in the universe

and I don’t trust you’ll bring them back to me.

So, if that’s all I’m going to have

I kept the letter

and I hid the box

and I’m okay with the happy memories.

©AprilStultsBooks2024 Posted: March 27, 2024

The Dream

You always hated how much I lived in the dreamland

always the fantasy leading the way

I was surprised you called yourself a hopeless romantic

your feet have roots for days stretching out from your foundation

You always hated how much freedom my spirit required

always thriving in the spontaneity that life fluttered in

I was surprised my soul caught your attention

but all things that sparkle turn the blind man to the sun

You always hated my fears

they stifled your world and ruined your process

but my fears are justified and thus, you refuse to bend to the wind

My dream will always be, once in an eternity

and you will always be the one

but if you want me in the land of the living

you mustn’t forsake the love born of that dreamland

The story was written in this library

the book stored in that cupboard

the words sealed with love

written with the essence of our souls.

©AprilStultsBooks Posted: March 26, 2024

Painting Available for Purchase – contact@aprilstultsbooks

We are not the Same

I’ve watched and listened until I’ve become red in the face.

It disgusts me to become aware of the disturbing truths they are living in.

I accepted one, because it didn’t seem like a pattern,

but then you opened the door and I found countless others

all muddling through the same devastation

and I was forced to ask myself the hardest question.

What do they all have in common?

you can see the red in each of their eyes,

their chaotic emotions riddled all throughout their implosive aura,

but their commonality has nothing to do with them…

It was you.

Their obsession was marked with the same shadow,

darkened hearts, poisoned feminism, but worst of all,

they’d become bound to a dungeon where the only light was you,

and here I am, drinking from the same chalice.

Of course I pulled away,

of course I went back to filtering,

of course I ended up deceiving you

I went back to the way I’d been before you walked your way into my world.

I raised the walls to the heights they’d always been steadfast.

We are not the same.

My cowardice prevents the wind from shaping this mountain that contains my heart.

Your cowardice collects the wind,

and redirects it to chip away at anyone willing to love you.

I let you in,

only to be exposed to a sandstorm.

We are not the same.

You are the sun and I a clear umbrella

I can neither love you nor hate you,

because I can neither hold you nor have you.

The sad fact of this karmic bond I’ve only just realized,

we’ll never have another day with a dawn or a dusk,

nor a lifetime filled with words they’ve used all up.

I’m not like you.

I don’t want to be a carbon copy of obsession, possession, and lust filled regret.

I want once in a life time.

I want forever.

I want never to say those big words or big feelings,

and wonder if you believe me.

©AprilStultsBooks Posted: February 18, 2024

The Story of a Grim’s Love

There is a story in my head of a man who fell in love with a grim

you can call her the devil or a demon, but to me, she is just a fallen angel

There is so much sadness that is spoken in regards to the negative entities

but does anyone ever ask why they became what they are

like has anyone ever said to one, “why are you the way you are?”

Supposing one had been asked, this grim as my case in point,

one would learn the history that aided in such a transformation from pure to tarnished

but in my grim’s case, she wasn’t even tarnished

she chose to become what she was because she knew another soul needed her love

and so, the only possibility to share herself was to become something she’d never been

Others looked at her in disgust that she would make such a choice

but no one ever asked her why

they assumed

they scoffed

they judged

and as her conviction was stronger,

so became the silence of her reasoning

Upon such a drastic transformation

her footing tended to faulter

but her purpose was her driving force

The man in question never realized his angel was a grim

he was filled with a love so pure

and it saved him from a firey doom

she stayed with him his entire existence

and never once did he question her presence

until after he took his final breath

she was there, waiting, to walk with him along the path

cautiously he asked, “why is it you?”

she couldn’t help but smile because he was the first being to ever ask

“you needed love when no one was giving, so i became what I had to become to ensure you had the very thing you needed.”

every step the man took from that point on he was reminded of every moment he was filled with love when he couldn’t give it to himself

they walked in silence until it was time to say his goodbye

he turned to her finally, “what do you need, that no one is giving you?”

without hesitation

“I need what everyone needs, the be the embodiment of love so that love always exists.”

©AprilStultsBooks2024 Posted: January 10, 2024

To This I Say

I’ve often thought about what you said

the words that changed my whole world

that vibrational message that dug a knife deep within my spark

and ruined me

Don’t get me wrong

I needed to be tarnished

I was too polished

too bright

I hadn’t the slightest idea what smudges would feel like

and I rather enjoy being held

You marked me with your fingerprints

and I dare not seek another to mark

and to this I say

please don’t put me down

I beg of you to keep me firmly in your grasp

don’t contemplate my place in your cabinet of collectibles

and keep me away from the pedestals where we are forgotten

letting go isn’t an option for me

there’s nothing in that dark place you plucked me from

only an end to something I was imprisoned in

and now I’m safe

now I’m whole.

©AprilStultsBooks Posted: January 9, 2024

I’m Not Her

I wish you could’ve seen me with eyes that never held her shadow

I wish you would’ve known me before she destroyed the heart that now bears my mark on it

Not for all the obvious reasons,

the, she knows what its like to lay in bed watching you sleep

or, she knows what its like to have an argument and spend all night making up.

I’m not shallow enough to worry about your past,

and she is certainly part of it,

but she is certainly the shadow that lingers in my background every time you look at me.

I am not her

I don’t look like her

I don’t laugh like her

I’m not playful the way she was

but more importantly, I won’t disregard your love like she did

I refuse to be compared to a monster who thinks they can come knocking after they’ve laid waste to the man you are.

I’m not her

I speak my thoughts and I’m not afraid of hurting your feelings

I’ve spoken truths to you I’ve never heard myself say in an audible frequency

and still, with you, my truths hold her lingering shadow

I find myself shinning brighter these days in an effort to cast away her stain

and still I see the homage you pay her when you think I’m not looking,

the subtle glances, the insistence I’m overthinking

but even the sunshine has to rest

and my intuition is tired

I’m exhausted of thinking about her in an effort to prove I’m nothing like her

but maybe all along, you fell in love with me because I reminded you of her.

©AprilStultsBooks Posted January 3, 2024

The Plan

the plan was to wait

to do things right

the plan was your idea

to be sure, I always hated the plan

I fought the plan tooth and nail every day, mostly because I knew it wouldn’t work out the way you wanted anyways

my plans rarely work out but I never had the heart to tell you that

I wanted you to believe that your plan would bear fruit

that we’d get to see the rising sun on that horizon

but you forgot about the devils that have their own plans

the entities that made plans far before the dust settled in this universe

the funny thing about plans is that it only take one action to destroy them

it only takes 1 choice from anyone at all to derail the whole setup

another thing I didn’t tell you is how I tend to identify the asteroids in orbit and shoot missiles to derail them in hopes they’d be that one variable no one accounted for.

the kamikaze of universal karmic blessings that’ll force the plan

and maybe that’s it

maybe I’m the kamikaze

maybe I always have been

grasping the steering to take the whole ship down

captain my captain

ready the cannons

the plan is shit

the ship is out of control

Everyone forgets the ship only sinks because its taking water from the Inside

inside is where the darkness hides

where my demon thrives

The plan was to bring me peace

and the longer we stay on this course, the more water Im taking in

the closer to the abyss I get

the harder it is to take a breathe

why do we make plans in the first place

why do we allow expectations to form when its so easy for the variables to change things

let me remind you

it was your idea to make a plan

I was happy to watch the whole world burn to the ground

as long as you were going to be by my side

©AprilStultsBooks Posted: January 2, 2024

Knock

I told you they’d come knocking

they always do, don’t they?

They come when you’re at your brightest,

when you beam out of every pore

and they bring the darkness in their wake,

slowly letting in the shadows.

They seek to quench their thirst in your well of light

To them you are the source

the gravity that keeps all things in motion

though, they’ve depleted stars much larger than you

The tale goes,

they knock to be invited

but once you’ve let them in

you’re bonded in a timeless contract, a black-holed phoenix

rising and falling in a cycle of karmic rhythm.

You’ve been warned, not once, but twice

beware the souls that knock after the door’s has been shut

The question you should never forget to ask yourself:

Are you willing to open the door to an endless mistake

or are you strong enough to be the you without them?

©AprilStultsBooks Posted: January 1st, 2024

Dearest Grim

I invite you to take a seat at the edge of my bed on these long nights we stare at each other in the darkness of my world. You must be tired, my friend, waiting for my when, but I am not ashamed to admit my exhaustion is shifting in your favor

My cries in the early hours of the morning are taking their toll on my heart, the pain is chipping away at my resolve, but you know all this already don’t you, you experience it with me, as my only companion in this struggle

My invitation to you comes on the eve of your last attempt to walk with me on that shadowed path. I recall those steps, the words we exchanged, the warning you calmly whispered against the wind. But I’ve not taken heed your gift and thus acknowledge the meaning of your lingering presence now

I’m not ashamed of accepting what will be, I know the weight of your grasp

but I’ve been engulfed in these living flames,

I’ve no strength left to fight for a love that doesn’t fight for me

I’ve no heart to keep breathing in the confusion

I’ve no patience to believe miracles strike twice on a single soul

There are no final words to loved ones who seek closure

there are no beautiful admissions that could breathe new light on that valley

my hand willingly reaches out, with a smile on my face

I’ve said my good mornings and kissed them all their goodnights

all that’s left is to take your hand

Of which I now willingly accept.

©AprilStultsBooks Post: December 22, 2023

*If I go without your goodbye, know, I loved you.

Your Silence Kills Me

I want to be the one that brings out the words in you

the connection that produces emotions you didn’t believe existed

I want to be the love that moves through you

while simultaneously igniting the fire that guides you

but your silence kills me

you wield it like a samurai with no mercy

slicing into the heart you once breathed life into

Is that the fine line that separates love and hate

could it be possible such rumors are true

I never knew the validity of those trifling facts

and here I am, sitting confused by all the words

gone unanswered

I wont give into the fear screaming intrusive thoughts

because your silence is prevailing

I won’t assume into existence the storm that isn’t forming

but the blade is deepening into the flesh

and the bleeding is staining the landscape

I want to be the warrior that fights back

the being with the courage to believe in miracles

But your silence kills me

and I refuse to be a lingering ghost in this realm.

©AprilStultsBooks Posted: December 21, 2023

It happened on a Tuesday

There was a promise made before this time existed

I wasn’t certain of the words exchanged for the longest because I’d forgotten the language

but the notion that one day you’d appear was a certainty

You were the shadow that followed me

the whisper in my ear when I was confused

the cry in the wind on those days I was being devoured by sadness

You were my partner in dreams I’d wake feeling I’d just left home

the quiet embrace that would shower me as I’d weep in the darkness

the warmth that kept me company on crisp afternoon walks

You were that certainty I’d forgotten to expect

You were the spark that would ignite my truth

You were the truth meant to wake me alive

It happened on a Tuesday

The flood that rushed in with beginnings

the storm that destroyed what was

There was a promise made before this time existed

You were the key that knew the language to whisper in my soul to end the anguish of being alone.

You waited as predetermined

because that was when I was making that last ditch effort

because I had silently given up the everything’s of this realm

because I had lost faith you even existed

You became the only proof I would ever need

that we haven’t broken that promise.

©AprilStultsBooks Posted: December 16, 2023

The Silent Suffocation

You will never hear my cries,

and for that I am grateful.

You’ll never know why I was so impatient,

at least not until you get the phone call.

I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news but the clock is getting quieter,

the chimes no longer wake me up,

the ticking no longer drives me mad.

The moment I started feeling the darkness winning,

I knew I’d need to make my own plans.

The awareness that those plans we dreamed about, in that tiny minute we had to dream, the fact that those will never be realized is a sadness I don’t want to sit with.

I’m still breathing

but I’m suffocating for the things I’ll never experience.

The trip to Vienna at Christmas or seeing the tree light up in that place I’ve never been to.

The farm with the baby cows that would have been our future.

The cuddles on a random Sunday morning before the sun woke up the world,

you will always remind me of a Sunday,

but I’ll never see a sunrises, much less one held in your arms.

I feel like the well of tears I pooled were all the wishes spilling from my heart.

It doesn’t matter anymore that its breaking, that the pressure has begun to penetrate its ability to thrive.

No…its not about patience….its about knowing this journey.

Ive been here, I’ve done this.

So many forget that.

I’ve been on this cliff, feeling death breathing down the skin of my soul.

I was lucky last time, I took a chance, I jumped without knowing if there’d be a safety net.

How many miracles can one expect in a single lifetime?

Am I blessed to the point of beating all the odds?

Are you a betting man?

And maybe that’s why I’m not good at this.

You’ll never know how exhausted it is to live like this

How being broken blurs reality.

Yeah, I wanted to live in the fantasy because that was a hope I could dwell on

while I clenched my teeth during the anguish.

I was holding on so fucking tight to that

and now I don’t even get to have that.

What I know, for sure, is that an hour from now, tomorrow, shit, 10 steps from this thought, none of it’s promised.

But you’d believe me if you sat in this space with me when I cry out to the four walls to make it end.

It fucking sucks because those dreams I’m not allowed to have, those dreams I’m not allowed to hold on to where what was keeping me going, keeping my heart beating, and now I’m silently suffocating without them.

©AprilStultsBooks2023 Posted: December 13, 2023

The Scream

the night haunts my soul,

each dim lit room becomes a vacuum

for the pain that overcomes my physical being.

I’m not proud of myself in those moments,

I’m weak,

vulnerable,

and entirely tired.

there are nights when the shadows linger too closely,

teasing me with the ease of giving up,

taunting me with the option,

and I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit to wondering what that would taste like.

for the screams to stop,

for the fire to cease,

for the pressure to vanish like the phantoms that disappear when I open my eyes.

I’m not the perfect smile you see,

I’m quite the opposite in fact.

I’m broken to the point of wondering if I’ll ever be fixed,

and maybe I wont,

maybe that’s the point.

maybe I’m meant to be living proof,

that shattered pieces can be sufficiently glued back together,

walking evidence that even broken people

can live amongst the regulars.

I’m the exhausted horse voiced being that never admits the truth

why? because I’d rather you not know why I was so overwhelmed to the point of crying

because I’d rather not explain my reasoning behind those last words I tell you each night

because I never want you to hear the crippling screams I release when I can’t hold it in anymore

but my truth is terrifying

my truth is ugly

but its my truth

and I speak it now because I’d rather you know then think I was smiling because I was fine

I was smiling because that’s how I want you to always remember me.

©AprilStultsBooks Posted: December 8, 2023

The Memories I Never Had

When I think of you I recall an entire life I’ve never lived,

this alternate universe where we existed that wasn’t meant for us to live.

I despise to recall this life because I mourn for the things I’ve never had,

the moments with you I’ve never experienced…

the feelings I can’t escape…

the breathe that quickens and catches in the night…

the laughter that echoes the rooms of the home we ultimately created…

the happiness that filled endless moments where it was us against the world.

I wish I could say it was only a dream, but some days I see you with my eyes wide open and find myself blinking to readjust the reality before me.

You are no more real in this plane of my existence then magic and unicorn,

and yet your spirit and energy continue to breathe life into my soul.

I’ve not wanted to remove the phantom existence and shadowed parallel for fear that you really do exist in some inexplicable way,

but I’m tired of talking to the empty room hoping one day you’ll respond.

I’m tired of holding on to a love that’s forever one sided,

and I’m tired of feeling lost and alone because my hand is never held by yours.

Its one thing to dream of perfection and an entire different thing to believe in its reality.

Maybe I can close my eyes and love you for the rest of my life,

and a part of me would be perfectly happy with that,

but I worry loving you and never knowing the feel of your warmth will be the death of me.

I worry the heart that beats for you in this reality isn’t strong enough to withstand the loss it feels every moment without you,

and in this last ditch effort to speak across space and time, before the clock ticks out, I beg of you,

find me

love me

hold me

and never let me go.

©AprilStultsBooks2023 Posted: December 4, 2023

Unlocking the Memory

What did I expect, coming to this place and forgetting everything I was meant to remember?

Did I think it was going to be easy?

Had I done this before and so had faith I’d accomplish what I’d set out to do?

Was it something I knew I’d be able to unlock before my time ran out?

I’m not sure anymore, the point that’s made about having chosen this journey.

I’m not sure I would have chosen to struggle so much if its so easy on the other side.

I’m not sure I would have decided to confine an infinite self into a powerless sack of skin.

Unlocking the memory of the before has always been too tempting an idea.

To know what was and will ultimately be.

To understand the answers to all the questions without needing to ask any.

To believe the language when the words need not be spoken.

Maybe that’s all one needs to recall the path we’ve chosen to set upon.

maybe it all boils down to knowing, understanding, and believing.

Grasp the faith that fills your being when you fear taking the step forward into the unknown.

The deep breath before jumping towards the manifestation you’ve created into existence,

the mere act of accepting what is because it is what shall be.

There is a force in me screaming these days.

Such are the immeasurable sounds we wonder become the key being turned because the unlocking has begun.

Will the door open soon and flood the room with light?

Will it all be over because I failed to do the very thing i set out to do?

Will I be forced to live in the dream because I couldn’t grasp the reality by what it was worth?

Should I even worry about any of it?

Does it even matter in the grand scheme of things?

Is all this just wasted thought space.

Trivial moments I could have devoted to the thing I was meant to remember…

©AprilStultsBooks2023 Posted: December 3, 2023

Reaching the Fan

There’s a funny phrase I’ve used several times in my life: ‘It’s when the Shit hits the Fan that we learn the most important aspects of our personality – of which needs worked on.”

I’ve used the first part of that phrase lately and feel like the only thing I’m seeing is how I haven’t mastered much of the patience I’ve been searching for.

I’m often reminded of watching what you wish for because the universe will give you all the things and more. I ask for patience, and the universe gives me a dozen reasons to exact patience. But going back to, when the shit hits the fan… I see the shit in the air friends, and I’m wondering if its ever going to reach the fan.

So I end up asking the inevitable:

Can our greatest struggles be suspended in space and time and more importantly can we stop those moments mid air and decide if it will in fact, hit the fan?

I ask this because if it is possible then it’s the precise energy I want to manifest. I’m tired of reacting and want to beat this shit before it ever makes a mess of life, thus, before reaching the fan and projecting all over my little world. I made a post recently about having struggled with not getting accepted as a patient in the Mayo clinic. I feel, that if through that disappointment I could share how important positivity is in everyone’s life, then I’m doing something good. It’s been through that community that I’ve found the strength to keep going and to try again…to seek an alternate path.

I know my journey isn’t going to be easy, having a rare condition isn’t easy, but staying true to myself is the only thing I’ve got. Keeping the positive mindset is the best thing I’ve got going for me because it’s what has prevented me from giving up and calling it a day.

I just wanted to share this today because it’s been a rough few days. I’m forcing the smile on my face because I know how powerful the smile is for the mind. I also want to keep to my authenticity, like I said before. We walk through the mud together and get to sit in the sunshine together, it’s got to be our choice which of the two we choose.

Also…because I have so many questions about my Jugular Venous Malformation – here is the image I just sent the Mayo Clinic and also my previous surgeon, Dr. Lin, for them to have visuals of what I’m up against this time around. (see below) and to guide me on my next steps…because I’m taking next steps come hell or highwater!

I will keep updating this blog as I get news but for now,

Thank you for your continued love and support!!

©AprilStultsBooks Posted: November 28, 2023

Jealousy

The funny thing about the poison we sip on, called jealousy, is how it’s something we choose to take in.

Worse than arsenic, yet more like a supplement for the dark soul, it wants our hearts to bleed dry of life.

For the unconscious few that become absorbed by the raging beast of jealousy, I ask a simple question…

Why love at all?

Why allow yourself to open a tethered thread to an infinite pool of emotion if you refuse to trust?

I’ve seen the destruction caused by the green-eyed foe, and still, we are weak at fighting the battles waging within against it.

Jealousy tugs on the mind and tantalizes in us the worst fears we could possibly imagine.

Actions, events, and complete scenarios are constructed out of the lowest vibration known to exist.

It is true, the wisdom that states: love and fear don’t live in the same place,

But why, then, do we take the spoon filled with this poison and open our systems to it?

Why do we let it consume us?

Why do we allow the lapse in judgement that causes us to assume what isn’t real?

The vivid pictures jealousy paints on our canvas seems real enough that we wander in that fake reality it’s conjured for us,

and we allow ourselves to drown in its lies…

we allow ourselves to believe it’s deceit…

we allow ourselves to forget what’s real.

Jealousy bleeds shadows into our happily-ever-after and introduces a negativity only our true nature can extract.

So how then do we win the war against this demon within our soul?

We remind our hearts that the truth before us is clear; we just have to be willing to see it and have faith in it.

©AprilStultsBooks Posted: November 19, 2023

The Wrong Decisions

Sit in your cave and watch

watch how every word you promised turns to ashes in my world

You lied to me

you said the big words and professed the big feelings

you told me to stay

you told me to sit tight

but from your view, I’m making the wrong decisions

I don’t need a white knight

I don’t need words

and I certainly don’t need another devil whispering lies in the corner

I need the sun to warm my cheeks in your absence

I need the moon to wash me to sleep in your absence

and I need the morning to keep returning until you finally show up

I need you to choose me

and I need you to want to fight for me, especially when I don’t have the strength

I need you to keep that promise of protecting my heart

and when I say the things that don’t make sense, I need you to still love me

I don’t want you to quit

I don’t want you to give up on us

but mostly I don’t want you to play this game so you have content for your feed

I have the courage to burn the scenery in my sights

I have the courage to stand in your presence for you to finally feel what I’m feeling

but mostly I have the courage to love you in the light of day

so everyone knows, once and for all, the reason my heart beats still

©AprilStultsBooks Posted November 5, 2023

Where’s My Love?

I keep having this dream

where you’re watching me from a distance.

I hate this dream

to be sure

not because you’re there,

I hate it because I’m constantly making efforts to engage with you.

It never occured to me there’d be a reason why you’d stay silent

but then I woke up screaming because you wouldn’t answer me.

The terror had me scribbling in my notebook

making sure I’d capture as much as I could remember

but now

you’re not responding and I’m haunted by a ghost of you.

Was that what the dream was making me face

the possibility that you were one of the many apparitions who visit me.

I hate that I see them,

I hate that I’m afraid,

I hate that I let my fear win over the love I feel for you.

Where are you?

why are you not here?

why do I close my eyes and see you,

all the while I’m blinded by the sun?

I don’t want to have this dream anymore,

but I dare not speak those words for the vibration to pick up on

because then what will I be left with?

©AprilStultsBooks Posted October 29, 2023

My Whisper

I prayed last night

got down on my knees and wailed at the walls that hold me prisoner

You left

I knew you’d go but I wish I’d been able to voice the goodbye

You took my heart, intact, shattered pieces and all

and I pray they don’t cut you on your journey through the unknowns

I prayed for so many things

but mostly for your safe return to me

I’m selfish

unkind even

to selfishly worry about what losing you would do to me

but loving you has been the only undoing I’ve been able to control

I let myself fall

I let myself trust

and you left

left me whispering “I love you” to a fall wind, praying it would reach you on the other side of the universe

could you hear me if I yelled it to the sun

would you know it was me, my voice, my heart

Can you feel the ache that rests heavily on my chest or

the faucet of tears that pool on the pillow of a bed I can’t escape now

Do you know how easy it would be to close my eyes and join you

leave this place and permanently project myself to your side

but my whisper has become weak

my mind too heavy to live

so waiting is the lesson I am to experience

and praying your absence doesn’t kill me.

©AprilStultsBooks Posted October 24, 2023

How am I to Live?

The fears I’m clutching to are rooted in a reality you never existed in.

I know it’s not fair to you, how could it be, you’ve yet to know the sound of my real voice, the heat of my skin, the power of my lazy gaze during intimate moments.

You’ve yet to experience the pull of my gravity, though you’ve become the only source of my current light.

I stopped voicing my alarm at how nonsensical this all has become, and instead took to enjoying the secrets we hold to ourselves.

My heart flutters and flips at the very thought of you but is it returned? Is this even real?

I’ve never believed in love at first sight, much less the torrent heart that pines for the unknown.

And there you are…proof that there is such a key to breaking down the great wall I’ve built to protect myself.

You are proof that a sleeping giant in a field of poppies has a way to escape the dream prison.

What do we do now? Lay waste to the worlds we’ve created to build a new kingdom?

What if the knights dig their swords into this hopeless heart?

What if we lose the battles, and end up bleeding empty before the war is over?

How am I to live if you go and never return? How am I to Live without you?

You’ve cast a spell so deep in my soul, laid roots without my ability to fend you off.

Was that your intention? To trap me in your vortex without a parachute?

Forcing me into the ‘you jump, I jump’, holding out your hand expecting me not to be afraid?

But I’d take that hand, jump and watch as my world explodes, praying the debris doesn’t catch up to us.

I’d hold on to you, begging you won’t forsake my heart.

I’d place my faith in you, knowing words are meaningless, and actions are the only currency.

But no man is an island, no love a setting stone.

Time will tell and prove if love prevails.

©AprilStultsBooks2023 Posted October 23, 2023

The World Doesn’t Revolve Around You

If you came to my page to read the words I wrote

thinking all the while, those words depict the tale of you

let me burst your precious little bubble

This world doesn’t revolve around you

especially since your anonymous self doesn’t exist,

to be sure

The sentiments expressed are not about your black heart

nor the ideas you’ve built in your pretty little head

of the person you Think I am

The truths you say to grip tight to

are nothing compared to the bombs I’ve yet to let loose

not even in your most vivid imagination could you guess

what intricate details you’ve missed

The death you hear isn’t for you to mourne

Karma is only tens steps trailing and is closing in

but you knew that didn’t you

There are no secrets between those who share the sheets

the ebb and flow of breaths get caught in the suffocation

of the life we wish we didn’t live

But you knew that too

You’ve read every word

imagined every scenario

and still the clock ticks on as I wait to give my sweet surrender

Begging for the explosion to take me clearnly

the lack of this too is the torture that lingers.

Big Feelings and Big Words

Maybe I came here to learn the meaning behind big feelings and big words

I thought I’d learned already, but then you came into my life

and gave me a different pair of lenses

Maybe I thought that happiness was as simple as being content

but then you told me that was settling

and asked me what would make me happy

Maybe I stopped believing in fairytales because my reality was grim

but then there you stood

a white knight waiting to be my armor

Maybe I am afraid of conflict and bombs

never knowing the full havoc the war would cause

but then you promised to hold my hand when I pulled the trigger

If its true, that thing they say,

“Courage is not the absence of fear

then why is it so easy to tell you, “I Love You”

when it scares the shit out of me

Maybe, just maybe, my soul finally found its other half.

If Tomorrow Never Came

“Fairytales have ‘the end’

while reality has tomorrow

stories have laughter

and life is filled with sorrows

with every smile

a tear is equally shed

but love is not woven with endless moments of perfection

the forever kind is flawed and scared like a colorful thread.”

That poem in my book ‘Dear Eliza’ sparked this character based written piece:

If tomorrow never came, would you mourn the tomorrow we never had?

Why I should care is the question I keep asking myself…

Would you regret not moving heaven and earth all for proprieties sake,

the worry and fear of what others would say?

Would you cry for me, did you cry for me?

Was I the ache in your heart or merely a want of something you could not have?

Was I the lesson you needed to prove your heart could still yearn for love?

was love even on the table?

If tomorrow never came, would you mourn the love you wanted,

or the me that placed you on a pedestal to pine for?

Moving heaven and earth could have been as simple as looking into my crying eyes

having been given the chance to say goodbye…

I’m not afraid of dying,

I’m afraid of dying never understanding what it meant to Love You.

Why I Wouldn’t Love You

You think me cruel and unjust but the reality I see is the wall, thick and steadfast, guarding the only piece of me I can prevent from breaking

You think me selfish, withholding caresses in the night, but in my mind making lasting memories would be far more devastating then remember the very thing you’ve lost

You think me weak which is the most amusing of all for it shows how little you know of the strength it takes to tell you I don’t love you

Picking up the pieces of regret that each day brings is much like adding to a collection of rare artifacts, the kind that tell a story by the pictures we’ve hidden in boxes under the bed

Who wouldn’t love you?

Not just because you are the kindred heart I didn’t know I was searching for but

you’re the flame in the dark that keeps the monsters at bay

You’re the sun in the middle of this winter that is my life

I’d never want for anything if only I’d open that door you keep pounding on

but I wouldn’t love you because I can’t bare for you to face the goodbye at the end of this

The Things I Shouldn’t Say

There’s always going to be a river flooding the shore when nostalgia gets the better of me,

but the collection of little things I shouldn’t say make up each individual droplet which moves that current

Those corrected conversations I’ve created in the early morning hours when the world is fast asleep, those have become priceless possessions that keep me pondering

If I’d had my own way, you’d never wonder what was happening in my pretty little head

but then again, it might be the Pandora’s box of confessions

littered with words that drum up more questions that will forever go unanswered

the tedious wants that make me complicated

the silly jokes that somehow make a dirty mind wander

the desires that should never be spoken during the day

the many things that contradict the me that I am on the outside

the filter was learned, not early enough, but learned to protect a fickle mouth

for lips that part only to release the proper and just

having become a dam, locking in what the imagination has constructed

the things I shouldn’t say fester behind that wall of proper delusion

too thick to be taken lightly

too dark to be unleashed

but they’re there….waiting for the moment I forget who I’ve become

and when such a moment strikes

the back peddling is a script to be played by the master

for I know who I am and who I don’t want to be but the strings will never be cut.

What is Closure, Really?

This theme popped up for me recently and it got me thinking. We’ve all had moments in a relationship that we’ve contemplated cutting the cord. I suppose I should explain my standpoint of relationships, as well as, cutting cords.

For starters, I’m not just referring to romantic relationships. Hell, I’ve experienced more forms of family cord cutting then I wish to admit. When I speak the word relationships, what I mean is any sort of relationship. Friendship, companionship, coworkers, lovers, family, and we can pool everyone else as acquaintances. Fact of the matter, when you sit down to think about the relationships you’ve cultivated in your life, the list can look pretty long. Which makes the idea of loneliness an odd concept.

My thought process of cutting cords is relatively new, in fact. I’d say I learned the meaning of this process about 5 years ago. Cutting cords of relationships is basically a swift ghosting. You’ve admitted to yourself that there was a toxic connection which was sickening your physical being to the point that energetically only one thing would make it better…cutting the cord to your energetic connection. For you, this would feel healing, but I have found that in some cases, it’s so detrimental to the other being that closure would have sufficed better.

This leads me to the difference between energetic cord cutting and closure. At the end of most relationships, people want to know WHY there is a sort of ending. Communication plays a big factor in closure and unfortunately not everyone will be on your same communication level. This is why most people struggle with closure, let alone the sadness endings entail.

You can tell someone, “Hey look, I can’t hang around you anymore,” but unless the person has the maturity, emotional, and intellectual capacity to understand and accept this, you are always going to get a “but why?” And what’s worse, it will be an eternal, “but why?” You could explain your reasoning until you are blue in the face and they still won’t get it.

So…What’s Closure Really?

I swear I’ve sat with this for what feels like eons and the best I could come up with is when having to speak your peace to get someone to understand why it’s unhealthy for them to be in your life, you have to meet them at THEIR level of understanding, and ultimately, pray and hope they are mature enough to let it go. Let you go. Let you move on. Let each other Just Be.

Closure is hard but, like grief, an individually necessary part of our human evolution. Even if no communication is allowed, allowing for individual closure is a form of healing of the soul. Believing that no matter the former connection, the moving forward will be easier because you’ve learned, grown, and achieved a higher understanding.

It’s asking: What did I learn from them? What season did they take part in? How have I evolved because of this prior connection?

It’s admitting that the physical being and presence may have vanished but the memories we are left with are just as strong as we allow them to be. It’s taking a step back and selflessly allowing the crumbling of what was to create a something new.

Now. All this being said. If the closure you seek is of malice words, dark karmic desires or violence to befall another…then I haven’t the faintest clue how to contemplate your motivation for closure, for I have chosen not to torture and imprison myself with hatred.

The Stories We Tell Ourselves

The voice that pens the stories we tell ourselves is the master deceiver in the mind that forgets it holds control to only one thing: itself.

The stories, intricately designed to instill fear in our hearts, prevent us from venturing out of our comfort, all in the guise of keeping us safe.

That voice, which leads you to wonder if in fact it is your own, is never far from present. It sits and waits for just the right moment, causing confusion,

disillusionment, and often a rise of concern in moments of wobbly footing. But those words, suggestions, and warnings are often part of the one percent of possibility which will never come to pass.

Is it our imagination which weaves its own voice whom becomes an actual being in our mind? The stories it embeds in our unopened eye contend with dreams the experts have yet to decipher.

Why then, do we listen so intently to that ghostly whisper telling us what we must or mustn’t do. Our actions are dictated by this illusive being we’ve instilled in the very place we get lost in.

Do you know the stories you tell yourself? Have you kept track of the misguided advice you’ve given yourself? Do you place blame on your inability to intuitively make choices? What questions have you sat with because the stories you tell yourself halt you from moving on, moving forward, or simply just moving.

Pick up the pen, and write a story so profound that even the voice which never shuts off will be stunned to silence. You are the only one that can weave that tale you want to dictate your life. Only problem you’re ever going to have with it, is the faith you place with it.

What’s with that Positivity Shit?!

Can you believe those where the words someone recently said to me when discussing my TikTok feed?!

I mean, I get it. Most of us are on survival mode and seeing a smiling face tends to feel utterly fake. Interestingly enough, the more I’ve put forth the effort to smile and spread positive messages, the more I feel myself uplifted. Fun Fact: That was the goal!

Social media in general is littered with greener grass, and I totally get the sentiment that was coming at me. But it got me thinking on a broader topic. Being Genuine!

Since as long as I can remember, I’ve always had a small circle of friends. Not because I can’t make friends…mostly because I have this undeniable boundary with anyone I allow to stay in my life. Be Real. The fake will get you a one way ticket out.

But don’t get me wrong here…my belief of fake is flawed. When I say, be real, what I mean is: speak your truth, say what you mean, and be who you are. The whole first impression shit is great, but at the end of the day, energy doesn’t lie. If you walk a walk that doesn’t align with what you are talking, my dear, it’s not worth my time.

The flaw in my thought process comes from the accessibility of tools. I love all things fun and silly and most of the time this includes filters and beauty hacks. It was pointed out to me, which I boldly acknowledged, that I myself am fake because I like filters and makeup and cloths that deflects my own aging process. I had to sit back and think about this because catfishing is a total thing now a days. BUT…I’ve NEVER shied away from professing my love of using these tools. They are my version of fun and silly and those who concretely know me, understand the use and purpose.

The positivity shit, this person was referring to, is the reality of what I’ve been building, on the only platform I’m putting energy into. My ‘Good Morning’ videos, that are now being challenged by my ‘Keep Going’ videos are all a part of something I never intended to build. A positivity community that is all things verbally real.

Life is HARD, and at times, utterly and devastatingly lonely. No one walks in our shoes and thus, can’t possibly understand what we are struggling with. Our struggles are heavy, some so heavy they push us into corners of thoughts that even phantoms would fear. But to know that in those times we may have hit rock bottom, there is someone cheerleading you on to keep going, to keep experiencing those, ‘just one more day’ moments, to believe something better is waiting for us, that’s what I’m creating.

I know what it’s like to have a plethora of friends who say they will walk through the mud with you but never respond to the message you sent 5 months prior wishing ‘them’ well. The internet is filled with souls needing a shining light, wishing us well. Telling us ‘good morning’ because no one else does. Encouraging us to breathe through the night when we can’t fall asleep, because each breath is a moment in this life so many have given up on.

That’s my real! This is my now!

So, that Positivity Shit, I’m doing on TikTok…Yeah…it’s for Me, because I needed it and had to give it to myself…so now I’m giving it to everyone else.

The Beginning of the End

It’s like walking into a room to immediately look for the exit.

The need to leave before you’ve immersed yourself into a situation.

A choice to be superseded by the desire for it to be over.

The beginning of the end is when you’ve passed the crossroad yet regret the path

mere steps into your journey because you’ve second guess your decision.

It’s the lack of trust in your intuition.

It’s the understanding that you’ve put your faith in false idols.

Its the knowing that what you came to be, is not who you’re meant to be.

The beginning of the end is not the end of all.

It is the awareness most fail to acknowledge.

That singular moment is the illumination of recognition,

for only can we then take the steps necessary to move.

Unfortunately, the first experience is always the most difficult.

It is never seen as relief.

Never seen as a must.

Never appreciated for what it really is.

Most fight it to the point of wasting time.

Most focus on the regret instead of appreciating the lesson.

The beginning of the end of anything is the window opening,

after the door was slammed behind you.

The Voice

For most of my life, I’ve fallen asleep hearing the words ‘I love you’ being whispered quietly as I’d drift off. I never questioned who or what was saying the words, that is to say, I never questioned it until experiencing a pieced together lucid dream that went on for weeks.

First, the dreams: I’d been struggling with sleep for a good few weeks and I was being thrown into dreams that would ultimately wake me up and leave me unable to return to my slumber. They were violent, gut-wrenching, but the people I stood beside in each dream felt like family…soul family. Eventually, after a days of jumps to places that scared me to my whits, I began to take note. Better said, I began to listen. One of the voices felt all too familiar, a home I held within. So, I decided to follow the voice and see where it would lead me.

That was when things became interesting. In each subsequent dream, the dark events shook me to my core, even lead me to what could end in a dream death, but by following the voice I couldn’t fully grasp, I would end up in a field of poppies. Safe, calm, but devastatingly alone.

I allowed myself to be guided and thus, I was able to sleep and my dreams of the field of poppies faded. The voice, however, still whispers each night, still speaks the words I will never understand in this lifetime. Still makes its presence known.

But the message the entity conveys eludes me to my core. How am I to know this emotion? How is this lifetime meant to fill a void of understanding to the knowledge beyond. Was that the point of this existence?

The fact of the matter I’m left with is that I’ve never thought to question it, to speak to it, to reply to the words it consistently expresses. I’d always worried it would respond with more of what I don’t understand, leaving me to fill a cup with karmatic questions no one is capable of answering.

And sit here, at my desk, in the light of day and think about such things, but when night falls and I’m surround by that darkness, I’m once more the child who knows other than the fear of the unknown. Monsters under the bed, phantoms flying above my head. Conquering that fear seems more important than wondering who is on the other side whispering.

For now, I’m content at acknowledging such truths. One day, those answers to all the questions will be clear.

What could have been

The torturous thoughts that jumble my brain at 2 in the morning always bring me back to what could have been.

What could have been pales in comparison to what has been and knowing that in the light of day does little to comfort me when the shadows lurk on the outskirts of my bed.

We could have had the greatest romance, we could have crashed and burned in the blink of an eye, but we would have been.

We could have ended up hating each other than experiencing this terrible longing that feels like it could last centuries.

We could have gone to Paris and kissed in the rain but we never made it past those streetlights.

We could have done what lovers do and christened every home we built for ourselves but our homes are filled with these phantoms of what could have been.

The torturous thoughts are nothing when I say them out loud, but when I scream them in the wind, its like sand chipping away at the person I’ve become.

The very person who knows what could have been will never be because there was no we in this lifetime.

The Rain

The deep breaths brought nothing but the rain

the thunder clouded my judgement and I felt the war would never end

only when the lightning lit the path before me with flames and destruction

did I know what it meant to be alive

the heat threatened my skin, while the smoke suffocated in a way I never understood before

Seeing you for the first time was such a panic

you were the storm I avoided

the hazard I never wanted to experience

but fate laughed as we crossed paths

because it knew the struggle I would face

Such struggle was my living oxymoron

I longed for the hurricane that was you

in an endless desert that was me

we should never have existed simultaneously

and yet, once in a lifetime, the perilous moment was destined

But what evil trickery is such a beautiful moment

to bring life sustaining rain, but also disastrous consequences

the flower may finally bloom because of one single blink

forever more starved of life when the rain never returns

Time Line

What magic did you use to wander into my world when I’ve spent so much time building walls and barriers?

Did you sneak in through the de ja vu or through the door I opened in that Lucid dream I can’t forget?

Did my cry for help bleed out into the universe and bend realities?

Is that how you came to be where I least expected you?

Was it when I projected to the library and let my curiosity get the better of me?

I knew I shouldn’t have opened that book with your name on it, but I couldn’t ignore the pull.

The beating that breathed through my soul was intoxicating to the point of euphoria.

Was that it? Were you there too?

Did you get pulled into my vortex through the manifestation I wrote asking for understanding?

I suppose I never thought it would flow through a stranger I never thought to ask for.

Did that vibration suck you in?

So much of this timeline no longer makes sense since you wandered in

and I’m not sure if it’s because you are the wanderer or if I am.

Maybe I’m looking at this all wrong.

Maybe, I left my timeline when I walked into the waves of the golden ocean

or maybe you were the one crying out against the wind begging for something you did not have.

I sit at the table in that small room, wondering why the iron chair is so cold,

but now I’m not alone.

You sit across from me, always responding to the things that creep up in my thoughts.

You’ve become a conscious thought, something real in a vision of nothingness.

A reality within a timeline I know not if I’m a part of.

Dear You

Dancing along the realm of what ifs is never a safe bet.

It wasn’t safe when you held my hand, and promised to be my strength.

It wouldn’t be safe now, standing on the end of this path, staring into the unknown.

I used to listen to your voice and play the what ifs in my mind.

What if you chose me.

What if you used words.

What if you made it obvious.

Maybe I wouldn’t have run away.

Maybe I wouldn’t have let fear win.

Maybe I would have had the courage to choose love,

and that’s where the danger lies, isn’t it.

I forgot that my choices were always my responsibility.

I forgot that fear is never the answer.

I forgot that the past is irreversible.

Dancing along the realm of what ifs is just as productive as dreaming a whole life and forgetting every earth shattering moment the very instant your eyes open.

The drop of what was created a ripple that still wanes in the distance and there was nothing we could do to stop it.

Those ripples remind me of where I’ve been, the choices I’ve made.

Playing the what ifs now, just as the ripples are all but gone, simply throws an unknown into the mix.

Dancing along the realm of what ifs is never a safe bet and I’d rather live an entire life with that one moment, then a thousand filled with regret.

When Dreams Bleed

The hardest part of sleep is knowing I’ll wander to a realm I’m not anchored to. When sleep devours my soul, I am sucked into that different reality, left vulnerable, and lost, but utterly lucid.

I stopped questioning the why I’d walk the night, while others took comfort in endless nothingness. At first, I basked in the newness of traveling through realms filled with sights unimaginable. But the sun exploded and I was burnt still breathing. Sometimes, the waters rose quickly, swallowing the people I’d come to love.

It’s not true, that lore which states, you die in this reality if you die in your dreams. I’ve died countless times, passed on to the stairway of light and woke wondering if that blinding awe was endless or if it was merely another portal to a different dream. And the ghosts that lingered still took noticed of my awareness and filled me with messages I never delivered.

I also lived in those dreams. Had families, children, lovers and still I wake wondering if their story moved on without me. Did they mourn my vanishing? Did they know what I really was? The questions have become the mountain I am to climb.

But when dreams began to bleed into the waking reality, I found myself asking, is this the dream? Are the faces that tug on my heart, the ones I’ve seen in those lucid moments of wandering, are those the real beings that I’m anchored to?

The hardest part of sleep is not knowing which questions hold weight. Does any of it matter, in the grand scheme of this design? To dream with eyes wide open, is just as powerful as being the dream-walker that understands the night.

I Wrote This One For You

How silly of me to think I was strong enough to survive this plane of existence without breathing the same air as you.

I’d tried to overcompensate your absence but at every turn, the ghost of what you could have been shows up in my brightest moments.

The we that might have been plays out in dreams I cannot forget and upon the morning sun, I beg my higher self for a forgiveness I know I am not worthy of.

I was not strong enough. I was not wise enough. And as much as I want to say it’s because I was young, I know better. It was the strength of conviction I lacked.

I’ve lived everyday knowing that I have something you would never have. I have love. I have today, and quite possibly tomorrow. But I would never have you.

You were the first, you were the only. You were the heart I wanted more than anything. More than the sun that shone, more than the moon that glimmers in the night.

And as I sit here, knowing that you will never read this because I didn’t have the strength to chose you, I dread the moment we meet in the realm beyond.

I didn’t chose you, knowing that you were the everything I should have chosen. You would have made me a different version of who I am.

It’s easy to make a choice, but letting go is entirely a different story.