#thisisreallife

#realtalk
I've been thinking lately, and I think I might actually want to grow up. I thought I didn't, but now, I think I do. I wanna grow up and go to school and learn new things and have dorm room with a roommate and go on random adventures at 2am and fall in love and get my heart broken and then really fall in love and know its real and (go ahead - call me Molly Mormon, I dare you) get married in the temple and have all my crazy older siblings be so proud of me and maybe my brothers will even come home to see us. I want to have adorable little babies and be the craziest pregnant lady and drive my husband mad and raise those little kids with all the love I can possibly muster. I want the hard times and the good times and to spend it all with a family that I love.

#realtalk
I used to hate this idea of growing up. And even more, I hated the idea of growing up to be the average "we met at BYU and got engaged two months later and now we have five kids" kind of Mormon girl. I hated it so much.

#realtalk
But if this is the life that will bring me happiness, if it will give me something to keep looking up to, then I want it. And if you think this makes me some crazy Molly Mormon, so be it. Because it's here that I've found happiness and safety and comfort. It's here that I've discovered who I want to be.

#realtalk
I've had my fair share of trials, don't be fooled by my facade.
And I'm real tired of life's sh- I mean, crap.

#realtalk
I just wanna be the best person that I can be.

#realtalk
I wish I was a kid again.

#realtalk
Maybe... maybe I don't wanna grow up yet.

Red, Blue, and Yellow Little You

I was a fairly unobservant kid.
Two years old with four siblings out of the house, I was awfully lonely in that big, old, red brick house with the trampoline.

Three years old, I was still unaware,
But I do remember the exact day we moved into that new, blue, one story, rainy day house with the big backyard.

And I sure do remember you.

Four years old, and I remember driving down to Utah to see you, my newborn niece.
I remember wondering at your jaundice yellow skin and your special little "light bed".
We stayed weeks longer than we should have, something was wrong. When we left, we brought home my new "baby sister"

and her little light bed.

Five years old, I really don't remember much
But I do remember that summer afternoon on our big blue porch, looking at you and making a promise, kind of to you but mostly to me, that I would watch you grow up every single day.

And I might not remember much,
But I sure do remember you,

and I could never forget what it felt like to finally have a friend.

To my dearest, Leland Ko

Four of your one line poems used to inspire four of my own.

Because what's a promise to reality?

But,
you promised?

"I just can't do this anymore..." you said.

Because you were done making stupid promises
and you were running out of lies.

I know your heart broke that night,
just like mine.
The difference was
when I whispered "I love you"
it was a promise.

But,
what's a promise to reality?

Because reality is:
you never really meant it.

Blue eyes have always been my thing, but you make brown eyes beautiful.

This one's for you.

That smile,
darling,
You were never boring.

Always talking,
so much to say,
so much to tell.
so much to get to know.
I'm drowning in you
and I love it so much.

You are so good,
too good.

Brown hair,
freckles,
so much going on in that head of yours.
I see you.
I see the boy behind those eyes.
and I love him.

because blue eyes have always been my thing,
but you make brown eyes so beautiful.

If I had said 'I love you' one last time, would you have stayed?

Though your mouth never said how much you loved me,

your lips moved slowly,

showing how much they cared for the taste of mine.

But they never did care for my eyes

or the way that I walked.

They never would look at me and think,

"What is going on in her pretty little head?"

They never cared for my favorite movies or for brunettes or for young crazy teenage kind of love.

They never even cared for my smile.

But if I had said 'I love you' one last time, would you have stayed?

or am I really as naive as I thought I was?

You finally came back only to leave me behind, so I hung out with your brother because he reminded me of you.

and I am a little bit lonely.

Because I gave you my everything

and all you left was a faint shadow for me to follow

aimlessly.

Like I'm looking for something,

Only now do I realize that it's definitely not you.

At least,

not anymore.

Because you finally came back

just to leave me behind.

So I hung out with your brother

because

he reminded me of you.

#stolen
To: Leland Ko
From: Kes
I can only hope that I interpreted these lines in a way that makes you proud.
Merry Christmas, friend :)

Discovery

(and that's good news for astrobiologists.)

Any last words? - Anything else?

Last words? 

I guess this is it. 

The "real" me?

I pray every morning to make someone's day

even if i'll never know it.

I still blow on dandelions

and wish for summer rain.

I couldn't live without my cartoons.

Four married siblings,

six nephews,

three nieces.

I love them all.

I'm gonna get ridiculed for this one,

but I'm a morning person,

Surprise!

I write in Evernote

because it's that much farther away from the publish button.

I am an ice cream enthusiast 

and too lazy to be healthy.

(but someday I'll probably regret it)

I work at a grocery store

with Bueford the cow.

I don't really like it there.

 I've kissed one boy ever.

But that doesn't matter.

When I was in fourth grade I wanted to be an author.

I don't know what I was thinking, because I never really loved writing.

I'm sorry to say, but I still don't have any confidence in that area.

I'm not an author,

I'm not even a writer.

But I do call myself an artist,

and I love what I do.

You might not know me, 

and I wouldn't really blame you if you didn't.

Sometimes i'm quiet,

and that's okay.

I'm not hiding

To be honest,

I never really was.

So,

The "real" me?

My name is Keli Elizabeth Capel.

And, as always, Spell Check says that's wrong.

But that's okay,

because I am so much more than my name.

Laughter Lines

Some people try so hard to hide their wrinkles.

But I never will,
because every moment with you was worth the creases around my smile.

Yes, I miss you.
Every day I think of you.
But when I look in the mirror, I don't see tear stained cheeks,
I see those laughter lines.

And when we're together again
We'll share our tears and our stories,
but best of all, we'll share our smiles.
The smiles that have seen so much more since we said goodbye.

I'll see you
in the future
when we're older.
When we are full
of stories to be told.

Cross my heart,

and hope to die,
I'll see you,
with your laughter lines.

A poem to a dear friend, inspired by the song Laughter Lines by Bastille.

This is your heart, can you feel it?

On the stage
or the field.
the lights
and the crowd.
that last note
ringing
in my ears.

Performing, 
loving what I can create.
Music,
art.
I am an artist.

Emotion
and passion filling my soul.

If I love this song enough, maybe you will too.

Expressing music, or what it feels like to create it, through words is just so hard to do.
But let me tell you,

Music is power.

My life and my love,

and most of all, my passion.

Music is my heart.