home/less [black out]

[

homes don't really exist

people sleep, knees curled into chest

covered in moonlight and love

in parking lots and meadows and secret camping places

]

i ran away & started writting again

long story short i caught a midnight bus to the west coast and bummed around for a week. and i started writing again so i thought i'd post it before my parents kill me:

aug. 3rd 2016

there's love stories on the lamp posts that line the board walk
at low tide the birds chase the kites
& the kids search for their parents footprints in the sand
not realizing they're making their own

at night the teenagers build fires along the water and burn their death letters but still get too close to the flame

&&

sophomore year i started painting bruises in my notebooks because it just felt right

 i liked the colors; the blues and deep purples, reds and small dark spots, the yellows and greens

junior year my fists clenched more often then not and i spent most of my lunch time accompanying the empty bleachers

senior year i said goodbye to the bleachers and found comfort in my bruises and filled notebooks with words

---

a class room of kids and 1 teacher with enough bruises to paint a city

the blues and deep purples, reds and small dark spots, the yellows and greens and black if it was really bad

a handful of fists and a corner of misfits

i prefer to write in pen but you write in pencil and that is OK

bruises accompanied the podium more often than not

the blues and deep purples, reds and small dark spots, the yellows and greens and black if it was really bad

thank you for sharing your colors

         

unedited

in the 9th grade my friend told me that i walk down the halls like i could beat someone up and right now i'm thinking about what exactly he meant by that.
right now i'm sitting in my room that hasn't been clean since last wednesday and i'm looking at dried flowers from a wedding who's marriage didn't last a year and i'm thinking about how tomorrow is monday
tomorrow is monday
tomorrow is monday and i get to talk to my best friend
and tomorrow is monday
 right now i'm thinking about the way Nelson always says 'thank you' after he reads something and how i love classical music but i never say that when people ask me what kind of music i like
right now i'm thinking about how my mom is stressing out about me graduating and right now i'm thinking about how i just re decorated my room and i'm not even going to be living here 6 months from now i have a plan
i have a plan
 i have a plan but i dont' know what to do in between
in between i get so stuck
it's raining right now and i hope it's still raining when i wake up
should i go to first period tommorow
i'm sorry mom and i'm sorry dad but imma be gone soon
i'm thinking about my dog and how i worry he's going to die sad and about how i bought brand new paints and i haven't had the time to sit down and paint and i just want to paint and do art and draw and let my mind wonder onto paper i want to create i want to create i want to make something new
i have a couch in my room that i never sit on
and my sister is going to be alone in high school next year and right now i'm thinking about how ty sent me a letter all the way from mexico that took a month and a half to get here and all it said was "i love you & i wanted to make sure you got a flower today" and how i just got new sheets and how rilo will reach up and hold my hand and how eddie is less than a month old but she holds your finger so tight and that is such a subtly beautiful thing

i hope it's still raining when i wake up

OK

This last summer a couple friends and I headed out to go camping down south at the hot pots near Filmore. It was a two hour drive on a road that seemed to never end.

These natural hot springs came into a field in the middle of nowhere, and I've been there plenty of times since then but nothing has been quite like this night.

It was us, the water below & the stars above. The air was clear and crisp. Everything was OK. even when it was silent. The sky was empty, there was no moon. You could see the stars perfectly, and they were beautiful. We'd get excited every time we saw a shooting star. It felt as if we were the only ones on earth at that moment.

You could see down in the water for a couple feet but the rest was pure darkness. I would hold my breath and slowly let my body sink down into what seemed like an oblivian. For a few seconds I felt unbound from any earthly thing. It was just me, floating. Almost as if my body was completely lifeless, my thoughts became more tangible than my body. Life paused for a moment, midnight turned into 3 a.m. & 3 a.m. into 4 and before we knew it we were watching the sun rise over the mountains. The light slowly warming the dew coated grass. Time stood still for us, i felt so in tune with my body but sleep never occurred to me. We didn't party all night, we were never too loud or did anything crazy. We just talked and when we weren't talking it was silent and it was OK. Everything was OK

dat dessert

my souls alright, maybe my body's all wrong.
we as humans strive for a better tomorrow
when we can't get over yesterday.

it took me a year and a half to forgive
though my feet kept walking west.
maybe my body's alright but my soul is all wrong.
because the sun will rise in the east
and the first thing it will touch
is whats behind me.

16 & 162 songs old

got a little sentimental and made a playlist of all the music that i listened to sophmore year

162 songs of my days as a 16 year old

 here

take flight to me

darling i've been waiting at the airport for hours now and the man sitting next to me has a watch that stopped ticking two minutes ago
night please turn into day
heaven, walk a little faster
time be on my side
please hold my hand love
please hold my hand love
please hold my hand, love

please don't miss your flight

the:

(the art of her left hand saved him)

i can't shake you

sneak peak

a simple gift to my fellow creative writers :

a piece of Paris - something to write your name on

back space

sunday night

sunday nights

Sunday nights

what seemed to be endless nights of bipolar fingers dancing around my keyboard until 1 or 2 in the morning 

middle finger: "I" 

*space* 

ring finger "remember" 

*space* 

"the way - 

*space* 

"you"  

middle finger: "backspace backspace backspace"

middle finger "i"

"i remember when we hid under the sheeeeeettss....."

*back space*

middle finger: "i"

"i remember the space" 

i remember the space, and how i hated the space between "goodnight" and "good morning" but i loved the space between us because halfway was where our lips met

i remember our book and how there was no space between us because we were both on the same page

or the space of where my stomach was and where it was supposed to be when you kissed me for the first time

or the space between your crooked smile and your ears where i kissed you for the last

the space between your fingers was my favorite because mine fit perfectly in the middle, and i remember how you loved when your hair filled the space between mine.

the space between my head and my hands got my thoughts drunk as they passed through the center of me - which explains why everything i write seems to have your name between eveeeerry......


*backspace backspace backspace*

a film for a festival

a film by Nettie, Iris & Atticus  

enjoy

the bloops

miss Kitty Yeager

I’m just clementines and eyelashes

Christmas lights and heaven

I’m just soft fingernails and feeling weighty

I’m just hollow rib cage

I’m just itchy wrists

I’m just failed classes & warm beds

-Kitty Yeager // Arionna Cherry Day

"just friends"

love

an earthly paradise
the beginning and the end of all things
a boy and a beautiful woman
in the arms of youth and beauty

some ships were wrecked
his hands calmed the waves
he breathes life into the darkness

young lovers, lost in a kiss

the couple in conversation
with unavoidable damage

thank you Paris

i've been thinking of this day for months now and i've been sitting in front of this screen for the past 2 and a half hours and here i am with nothing. 

so i guess i'll just indroduce my self

my name is amber essie tillotson

i've lived in utah my whole life but my heart has been in paris long enough to feel comfortable calling it home

i'm 5'4" and i fell in love when i was 16

my bedroom is filled with dead flowers which is both beautiful and sad

i love to dance & i live for the days where i leave the studio breathing heavily, damp with sweat and my muscles aching, because i know that i gave the music all i've got

i have a different style everyday but that doesn't mean i'm not being myself

i love chai tea & it's my 'senior year' but i still have days where i sit alone in my car for lunch, but i don't mind it sometimes

the first thing i usually do in the morning is go back to sleep
it frusterates me so much when people arnt themselves

it took me until my senior year to find a real group of friends, and they mean a lot to me. i wish i would've met them earlier but they came into my life at a time when i needed real friends the most

i love going on motorcyle rides with my dad and i love that he raised me in that

i'm a firm beliver in writting in journals, the thought of my children or my childrens children being able to read about my life from my perspective is so incredible to me

leftovers freak me out most of the time & i regret most of my summer between freshman and sophmore year

i cried when i read 'dear mom & dad' aloud

i think that love is truly an incredible thing 

i'm terrified of driving through intersections or at night or in general & i rarely ever order eggs from resuraunts

Nettie Luella (Johnson) is my great great great grandmother

i'm thankful for everyone who every read any of my posts or left comments and thank you to those who came back consistantly - thank you

writting has always been sort of theraputic for me, but sharing it has always been so hard, so i thank you for your open minds and open hearts.

and thank you for letting me into your hearts as well

& thank you to Paris for letting me stay a while

music

this song has always managed to break my heart and some how pieces it back together all within 4 minutes & 3 seconds. close your eyes, listen to the lyrics & enjoy the beautiful pain that comes along with it

"im scared of being scared and that scares me"

i stopped writing because i was scared;

scared of boys wanting to hang out with me on the weekends but not wanting to talk to me at school

scared of getting pitty compliments from my friends after we reveal

scared of my mom seeing my blog

scared of my eggs not being cooked enough

scared of saying hi to someone and they don't say hi back

scared of nelson not liking my writing, yet i'm scared of him liking my stuff because:

i'm scared of people having too high of expectations of me

i'm scared of listening to my heart because it's the most honest part in my body

i'm scared of the top 5 and i'm scared of not being on the top 5

i'm scared of curling my hair because i don't want people to think i'm trying to 'dress up' because i'm not

"i'm scared that one day someone is going to ask how i am and i'll tell them"

i'm scared of people thinking i'm depressed

i'm scared of the fact that i have a place in my closet for clothes i'm waiting to wear
because i'm not confident enough yet

i'm scared of people thinking i'm weak

i'm scared of proccessed foods

i'm scared of driving

i'm scare of how many poems i've started but haven't finished

i'm sacred i'm scared i'm scared, i'm scscaredscaredi'mscaredi' mescaredi'mcsare dimscaredimc'esredim'cesrerd'eimm'cscaredi'mescare.di'misacred.sim'secared.im'lesscare i'am me slielm.im'cesaredi'mecared'mcaed'amcekjalsk dlkfnskdfnwajwp oeraposjndgklajrptapojglkdnlgsndfj lkjlskaj;ieja'mc,a /e/ajsldjfla ca .sjejijasd,

i was once told that fear can control you 

and that scares me
and that modivates me.

          -N.L.

God, stars and scars

I walked into an empty room and things became more familiar to me.
the plain white walls glowing under florescent lights reminded me of maps and where they started.
all on a blank page.
desolate land untouched by the human hand.
each step I take... am I changing the world?


I can imagine the sky at night,
you didn't have to go deep into the mountains to see unpolluted skies.
we saw the stars but the stars never saw us.

holes poked into the lid of a small box that held humanity
each star was only a source of oxygen that seeped through hand in hand with beauty.
only I'm scared of what's on the other side

I've been to the top of the Empire State building and to the peak of a mountain,
but I never saw God until I was on the ground long enough that the dirt under my palms stopped the bleeding and  my shoes were filled with regret so heavy that those holes in the sky seemed to be the only way out.

no matter how much I feared the other side.

i stand tall but gravity  still takes its toll on me.
my hands and knees have met the ground more than once
but those conversations still come with painful hellos
and prolonged goodbyes
there's no scar tissue, no callouses to lessen the pain

guilt made its home on my shoulders
occasionally spilling his blistering hot tea down my back.
trickling down my spine & ice cold by the time it got to my feet
an ocean of pain
and i'm too tired to swim

it turns out God was just as much in the dirt as he was in the stars
and i'd only turn back to see the flowers that followed me.
my head mapped all the wrong turns into my heart
& i haven't lost hope that i'll find the right way

history

i think we can all agree that the worst part of being a senior is the haunting question: "so what are your plans after high school?"

sometimes i wonder why i'm even trying to figure it out
i'm never where i thought i would be 8 years ago

i thought i would be a cheerleader
or on student council
i thought i would be a 4.0 student
i thought i would be popular and date a football player

but i was never any of those am i'm okay with that.

at the end of the day our grandparents lives are just our history classes and our parents lives are our children's history classes and we're all just history with heart beating, nerves streaming, eyes looking for someone to remember us.

history.

we're all just kids with history we don't want to remember

history books with chapters to skip and blank pages waitin for some life


our yesterdays are today and our present is our future and soon enough our future will be our history and our kids future is present in today because what we do today matters.


our names may not go down in bold but we'll be a apart of someones history and we can at least hope that it will matter. fill your books with memories of pain and love and heart break and let your kids know that it's okay to mess up, it's okay if you don't know what you're going to do after high school. you didn't know either.


how to answer that question:
1. ask them if they knew exactly what they were going to do after high school when they were 17