earthquake 

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the ground shook beneath her.the earth whispered,

this is it. fight like they’re worth 

everything.

but let them breathe 

to survive the after shock.
her love is like an earthquake.

where beauty surfaces

and no part is left untouched. 

i don’t belong to earth. stripped down;

controlled and silenced. 

i turn the culprits of betrayal to debris 

and intensify love. 
the clock screamed, too late. 

but the ground shook beneath her. 

she knew it was love.

and if she was right,

it would withstand everything.
-Allison Ryder 

me

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do you not want to?
how easy. how simple. and yet i cowar. what do i want? i don’t know what i want anymore. my right to choose has been sucked from me, much like my soul. i’ve given so much. so much love. so much tears. so much money. so much time. so many years of my life. to so many different people and to some the same, too many times. i broke in hurt and each time, a piece of me broke off and was left behind. i wanted to leave parts of me with each person, all people i’ve touched in some positive way. instead i allowed them to touch me with dirty hands, taint me, hurt me, break me. and now i do not know myself. i feel suffocated and controlled. i feel anger with words of profanity before love. i feel inhabited by a stranger i detest. 
i guess i’ve grown tired by unrequited love. i’ve grown tired of the pains that can be controlled. so i’ve controlled a safe distance. i find doubt in myself where there was once trust and clarity. i never struggled with my identity. i always knew who i was and who i wanted to be and now i don’t know. but i know i’d rather my lips fall silent than speak anymore ill words, anymore bursts of profanity, or words of anger and hate. i’d rather fall silent and crawl in a ball and break than be touched by hands i want to walk through life with, who only tear me down.
i don’t want to hear the phone ring tonight or the sound of voices. driving through reflective streetlights and the world is a haze. i am not present. i am simply breathing. i am not happy. i am full of empty holes seeking redemption. i’ve asked other people what they thought more than i’ve made my own choices, seeking approval, seeking forgiveness, seeking completion. but all i’ve done is lose myself in what everyone else thinks and wants and asks of me. my fear is greater than the importance of my desires but now i don’t know who i am. and i fear that more than saying no, more than deciding, more than loss that is not death. 
i have not felt this serene in.. well.. i cannot remember. walking outside in the rain, in shorts, with my hair wet. it’s the first time i feel like me. it’s the first time i feel beautiful.
something stopped me tonight. something came over me. something changed. and it washed through every fiber of my being. palpitations disguised as anxiety but i didn’t push it out. i accepted it. i embraced it. i stayed silent and let it run its course through my body. and tonight, for the first time, i smiled and you know what, i was alone. and that is everything. 
-Allison Ryder 

grief

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the road to recovery. such a mediocre and over used term. if you’re a recovering alcoholic, you’re on the road to recovery. if you’re addicted to drugs, you’re on the road to recovery. if you’re suffering from depression or anxiety, you’re on the road to recovery. if you’re broken hearted, you’re on the road to recovery.
but if you’re grieving, there is no road to recovery. there is no recovery at the end of that hall. if you are grieving the loss of a loved one, that pain is everlasting. it plagues us until our own demise. it is not a circumstance. it is a finality. death is THE circumstance. you do not travel through the steps of grief and one day, be like you were before. you are forever touched by death, by heartache, by regret, by guilt.
the road to recovery, to moving on, and moving forward. it’s a terrible phrase for a memorial. for as long as we are touched by their life, their love, we will be moved by their loss. it becomes a part of us. grief. it’s like the air we breathe. the storm clouds that roll in. it’s constant, though we may not succumb to it constantly. there’s no road. it’s just our life, and learning to co exist with grief. to accept that death exists and what it has taken from us. to be angry with it, to blame it, to fight it, to hate it.
the road to recovery is a pretense. a poor choice of words. how do you recover from the loss of a life you loved more than life. how dare the word recover even be in the midst of anyone’s sentence, when regarding grief and loss and death. i will forever suffer in silence and in deafening screams. i will consider in the weight of my heart for the love and remembrance of the man who gave me life. for my father.
-Allison Ryder

Five Gifts Every Bride Needs

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Five Gifts Every Bride Needs

By: Allison Ryder

 

 

Everyone is always searching for the perfect gift for your best friend, sister, niece, etc. for their bridal shower. You don’t want to simply get something off the wedding registry with no thought attached to the person you went through thick and thin with. We all struggle with this eventually. Trying to come up with the perfect gift that’s meaningful but also useful, and not just going to end up in the back of the closet somewhere.

 

We’ll give you some place to start.

 

 

The first gift is making a basket of wine. One bottle for every monumental aspect of the happy couple’s first year. Attached to each bottle of wine should be a short and sweet poem associated with the reason they’re opening it. Examples would be: first fight, first Christmas, first baby, first house, wedding night, first Thanksgiving, first Anniversary, and so on. This allows you the freedom of choosing wines they love or all different kinds to taste test and personalizes it to help them get through their good and bad times together.

 

 

The second is taking something that the bride to be wants, off of the registry and filling it with all kinds of other necessities. An example would be filling that new mixer with personalized kitchen towels, measuring cups, and any other small kitchen equipment customized to things she likes (a corkscrew if she loves wine, cupcake holders if she likes baking, etc.). You can pretty much do this with anything off the registry. For a new coffee pot, you could do personalized coffee mugs with it, for the bedding set, you can add a personalized blanket with their date on it, and so much more!

 

 

The third is a tear jerker and will never be a washed-out gift. Making a scrapbook for the bride to be from finish to start of your journey’s together leading up to this monumental moment will be an overly-appreciated and sentimental gift that pairs nicely with anything. Include photos, memories, and even old concert or movie tickets. Anything you have to make it extra special and personal. Might want to wrap some tissues for this one!

 

 

A honeymoon basket is the forth. Bridal Showers tend to focus on all the new inventions and necessities the bride and groom will need after the wedding day when they’re settling into their new home, but what about the honeymoon? You can find out where they’re going and give a credit towards something in the vicinity where they can go or something they can do, or you can get a ‘honeymoon fund’ bank to fill with some money, while also filling the basket with everything they no longer have to think about it. Fill it with things such as: sunscreen, tanning lotion, bride and groom flip flops or bridge and groom attire, beach towels, his and her travel cups, advil, tums, sunglasses, honeymoon bound luggage tags, aloe vera lotion, magazines for the plane, or a bottle of champagne, just to name a few.

 

And last but not least, an alternative gift for the bride to be is a masterpiece with the touch of Pinot’s. Here at Pinot’s Palette, we host many bridal showers and we offer a keepsake painting for an additional fee. This is the perfect gift for a bride to be. We have plenty of different choices but a great one to do, especially from bridesmaids or a family would be to do one of our paintings with trees in it. Instead of leaves on the trees, everyone would place their finger in some paint and place their fingerprint on the canvas to create the artistic leaves. Not only is this a beautiful piece created by one of our many talented artists, that she will be able to display in her new home, but it’s something personal and one of a kind for her to cherish for all the years to come.

burning bridges 

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i scratched at the darknessto try and find light 

but the darkness scratched back,

it tore skin. 

searching for phantoms 

of a past life.

an unknown life. 

crazy, psychotic,

pain in the ass,

too emotional, let it go, 

jealous, worry too much,

think too much-

they defined them as help,

assistance in acknowledgment. 

blood soaked compliments. 

i stopped scratching at the darkness 

and set it aflame. 

you stay stuck in yesterday. 

try to find me there.

burning bridges.

light the way. 
-Allison Ryder 

two trains 

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two trains are moving at the speed of light.

both, in the same direction.
one with a screaming woman 

giving birth to her first born.

one with a gunshot wounded

young man, 

screaming for his life.

screaming to live. 

both life and death 

hang in the balance. 
two trains are moving 

at the speed of light. 

both, in the same direction.

which will get there first? 
-Allison Ryder 

i wish i could go back 

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i wish i could go back, go back and sit at the table 

of every lonely soul,

every lone wolf.

go back and befriend 

every lost soul 

and broken heart.

i wish i could go back 

and hand a tissue 

to every battered ego,

everyone who got made fun of 

for being themselves 

or standing up for themselves 

in a world of clones 

influenced by one vice or another. 

i wish i could go back and disrupt 

the chain of events 

that led each person 

to sit on that cold bathroom floor,

razor blading their skin

until blood soaked the walls.

that led each person 

to swallow those pills 

to drown out the noise 

or to numb out the silence.

that led each person to 

drink and drug their body

so it didn’t have to breathe,

so it didn’t have to hurt anymore.

i wish i could go back 

and stop it, from ever happening.

i wish i could go back 

and listen and see and hear 

everything i was blind and deaf to.

i wish i could go back 

and save them. 
-Allison Ryder 

she writes.

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defend yourself.

speak. scream.
they wound you with
a hundred thousand acts,
with a million trillion words
that break you soul
and blacken your heart.
but you stay. you stay.
and you stay silent.
speak. say something.
you’re not a doormat.
you’re not an object to be used.
you’re not expendable.
you’re not replaceable.
you’re not forgettable.
but speak damn it.
she silently writes.
she writes her statuses,
her blogs, her enticing
poetic verses.
she writes the wounds open,
the blood runs like ink.
she writes the aching of her soul,
the destruction,
the not good enough,
the jealous envy,
the anger and disgust.
in each specific letter,
she screams.
-Allison Ryder

i promised. but so did you. 

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i promised i wouldn’t use you again.i promised i was done. 

but the year draws near,

the sadness corrupts my soul. 

i said i wouldn’t. 

but i was humming along 

to a whiskey lullaby,

drowning in tears.

invisible. forgettable.

my greatest fears come alive.

i promised i wouldn’t 

but you broke your promises too.
-Allison Ryder 

i hate you.

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i hate you.

that was the part

you weren’t getting.

it wasn’t just anger

or pure sadness.

i began to hate you with

the parts of me that

used to love you.

you spread your lips for kisses

that did not belong to me,

and i asked so i could hate you.

so i could rip you from me.

i only needed half a heart to breathe.