All posts filed under: Speckle of Our Words

A Letter To My Best Friend

I met you in 2011. I didn’t know it back then but I’m glad I approached you even though your stare could kill. I remember our days as high school freshman would consist of Taco Bell runs and spotting skater boys at football games. To this day, I’m pretty sure we’re both looking for the skater boy of our dreams.   2015. I remember our days as high school seniors, 8-hour long conversations about our futures over countless cups of coffee. Our dreams craving to leave this city.. I stayed, you left.   2015-2018 My visits to Austin always feel like a warm welcome. A second home now. No shoes inside the dorm. Check. Blue towel for your face. Green towel for your hands. Check. All you can eat snacks in the bottom cabinet. Check.   Each time always feels like I’m visiting for the first time. Our weekends consist of tequila shots, matching leather jackets, vegan burgers, late-night concerts, concluding with us wandering downtown talking to random strangers. I’m pretty sure we have met …

Descriptions of All the Boys I Have Loved

Boy no. 1: my first guy. Strong and loud. Could carry the world without breaking a sweat. Taught me to whistle. Taught me to swear. Taught me never to throw the first punch, but always throw the last. Taught me how to fear. Taught me how to love. Boy no. 2: my first kiss. Shared PB & J’s without having to ask. Taught me what a crush was. Taught me how it feels when they like you back… hint: like getting sick. Freckles like constellations. I was the only one who liked your gap teeth and obsession with spiders. Boy no. 3: my first heartbreak. Tanned skin and chocolate eyes. Showed me sometimes I’m going to be the one. Once said you could talk with me for hours and then stopped for no reason. You acted like you were scared of my voice. Boy no. 4: my last love. Showed me that my past loves probably weren’t love at all. I thank you for that every day. Words by Danielle Gorman // Photography by Grecia Villa. © 2017 …

Heartbreak Chronicles

Chapter one my clearest memory happened last fall. I remember it like the ending of my favorite book, perfectly etched into my mind. word for word clear as the day it happened. it starts with you driving down my driveway. you tried getting out of your beat up mustang, but I beat you to the car. I knew you could tell I spent extra time getting ready. why did I spend extra time getting ready? all week it felt like my brain was a cassette player and I was obsessed with my new tape. it’d play on a loop for hours and hours. rewind, stop, play: we’re just friends.                   rewind, stop, play: we’re just friends.                                             rewind, stop, play: we’re just friends. my head knew it, I knew it, right? you let me pick the movie, you paid for my ticket. rewind, stop, play: we’re …

Love Letter to Myself

Dear Me, Pinch yourself, because life is a gift and everything is scary until it isn’t. Send your brain that daily reminder that everything is temporary. Highlight your pain. It’ll only last a bit until you forget what it felt like. Your brain is a revolving door. New ideas and pictures of life are constantly coming and going. This is because you’ve always had this strong urge to feel everything you possibly can. Every feeling you can grab onto, every idea you can think up, anything you can try with your own hands. Look at this like a blessing, not a limitation to only doing so much. Do as much as you can. Something will stick to your soul and never let go. I know all that stress you feel. I’m not sure if it will go away or only build as you age. You’re right, time is a stopwatch and you never know if you’re meant to run the marathon or sprint. Take this as an opportunity to fail. Fail at everything. Get dirt …

The Sun, the Moon, and all of the Galaxy’s Stars

He’s lost for words again, he starts batting his eyelashes twelve fucking times per second. How could I not have noticed that? His voice is a pitch too high too; when he tells a joke, he scratches his nose. His shoes never quite match the rest of the outfit. He’s a slow walker, a mouth breather, I hate him, I hate him, I hate him. I didn’t use to. He was the sun, the moon and all of the galaxy’s stars for me. Now he doesn’t even ignite a tealight’s worth of spark. How did we end up like this? I sit behind him in class. I stare at the back of his neck, cleanly shaven and splattered with these ridiculous beauty marks. Months ago, I’d trace my ice-cold fingers around them and I could practically see the goosebumps oozing out of his blotchy skin. He’d fold up his shoulder, trapping my hand in between and then he’d tag at it until I leaned forward and flashed him a smile, my lips almost touching his …

Missing You

I miss you. I miss what we were. I miss your face and how your eyes scrunched at the corners when you concentrated a little too hard. How your hair looked when you ran your hand through it for the thousandth time today just like your father. I miss how Saturday afternoon coffee could turn into three am pitchers of beer and blurry conversations we couldn’t remember in the morning. How we laughed in the back of your friend’s car when they picked us up from the bar and our words came out slurred but we tried to act sober. I miss you. I miss you like I miss home. Your arms became a couch I’d confide in after a long day. Your cologne lingered in my apartment for a week and on my clothes for a month. I still find cigarette butts around my place every once and a while and can’t help but remember all the times you woke me up at dawn just to watch the sunrise. You’d say ‘the world was …

Torn Apart

So much has happened since the last time I wrote. I didn’t put my thoughts down on paper for two months or so. Everything was all over the place… But now that I settled down into my new bedroom, my mind is more clear and I can clarify my thoughts a little more. One of them has been taking all the place in my daily daydreaming. I am so torn apart between two visions of life.  I just feel like there are two individuals, with different mentalities but the same dreams, taking place in my heart. The struggle of being a Gemini, maybe. That’s what my grandmother would say. The first person is fairy-like and quite shy. She stays in her bedroom all day long, doing all the things she loves the most. Drawing cute little things. Reading inspiring books, or rereading Jane Eyre. Writings short stories or her daily life in her journals. Composing a new song on the piano and trying to fit the melody with the lyrics. She isn’t really into socializing, and it’s …