I don't give a fuck what you think.
I'm going to greet the morning
Punching the hell out of the sky.
In a haze of marajuana and old rusty needles
With the light dripping down
Like slow loss.
And her alabaster skin will kiss my
Bloodshot eyes.
Her, the choosen one,
The one to bring the news that he's gone.
I will die here
Under the weight of her heaviness
Her eyes that know all,
Bleeding for the sins of those without remorse.
My lips holy, like God.
My tongue an instrument for Jehova
So smile or smite them then, Oh great one.
I am done.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
.
What's it like to die?
To feeling your life ebbing out of you slow
Tiny little stars dancing before your eyes
Then no light at all.
Is it quiet and dignified?
A hush as the heart is taken aside
And put down.
Is it loud and raging?
Death prying your fingertips
Off of consciousness.
Then the miracle.
The voice that calls you back
Willing or unwillingly.
The One who says
"It's not time yet."
Out of cold darkness
Blinding light and heat.
You are reborn
Naked and unassuming
The nurses shout
And you cry out
Your first triumphant call
Of new life
Golden baby with the world
In your mouth
You arise burning and victorious
Living to tell of dying.
So tell me, Oh great Lazarus,
What's it like to live?
To feeling your life ebbing out of you slow
Tiny little stars dancing before your eyes
Then no light at all.
Is it quiet and dignified?
A hush as the heart is taken aside
And put down.
Is it loud and raging?
Death prying your fingertips
Off of consciousness.
Then the miracle.
The voice that calls you back
Willing or unwillingly.
The One who says
"It's not time yet."
Out of cold darkness
Blinding light and heat.
You are reborn
Naked and unassuming
The nurses shout
And you cry out
Your first triumphant call
Of new life
Golden baby with the world
In your mouth
You arise burning and victorious
Living to tell of dying.
So tell me, Oh great Lazarus,
What's it like to live?
Sunday, November 1, 2009
I've done something horrible.
I wish your heart would be broken because then . . . nevermind. It was just a little passing dream I had for us. Go, be happy. I'm happy alone. Well, not really. Content is more the word. I've learned to live again, or at least function. I wish I had drugs sometimes. Something to love. Something to return to instead of empty rooms and bare scrapes of memory that mean nothing now.
It's a little queer that everyone I know now has somebody. Not that I mind really, I don't need anybody. I can keep myself warm through the winter. But apparently they couldn't. I wish I could say it makes me feel Superior, to be such an isolate island in need of nothing, so self sustaining. But I don't feel proud of myself now, not like I thought I would.
But I've found something to hide behind. "I don't need a relationship now." those words keep me safe. I can live a life of fear safely tucked away in monotony I choose. I don't have to take risks or do anything emotionally dangerous. I can control the flow of my life, ignoring the prying eyes of strangers and more threatening, the nice smiles of grocer boys. I don't have to look for love. That unpredictable dangerous hurtful thing. What good ever comes from it? No. I choose to be alone. And I am happy.
I wish your heart would be broken because then . . . nevermind. It was just a little passing dream I had for us. Go, be happy. I'm happy alone. Well, not really. Content is more the word. I've learned to live again, or at least function. I wish I had drugs sometimes. Something to love. Something to return to instead of empty rooms and bare scrapes of memory that mean nothing now.
It's a little queer that everyone I know now has somebody. Not that I mind really, I don't need anybody. I can keep myself warm through the winter. But apparently they couldn't. I wish I could say it makes me feel Superior, to be such an isolate island in need of nothing, so self sustaining. But I don't feel proud of myself now, not like I thought I would.
But I've found something to hide behind. "I don't need a relationship now." those words keep me safe. I can live a life of fear safely tucked away in monotony I choose. I don't have to take risks or do anything emotionally dangerous. I can control the flow of my life, ignoring the prying eyes of strangers and more threatening, the nice smiles of grocer boys. I don't have to look for love. That unpredictable dangerous hurtful thing. What good ever comes from it? No. I choose to be alone. And I am happy.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
I Don't Dream [of you] Anymore
I don't dream anymore.
I count the taps in the dark.
I stare into blackness
And mark the paces of the changing hours.
I hear all
As if I am the only person alive
And sometimes I fantasize that I am.
I waste hours into thinking
I let them slip down the walls,
Pooling on the carpet.
The second hand of a clock
Is a slow heartbeat
Dripping morphine into my eyes.
I don't feel.
There is no need of feeling.
Only cool observance.
I live lives,
A new one every hour
And become master of every domain
I could build city's just to burn them
And empires just to drown them in a sea.
And I think of you . . .
I don't dream or plan
Or spin with different outcomes
And perfect ends.
I just remember.
I listen to the silence
And gather what wisdom it has to offer.
The story of my agelessness
Is told and retold
Into waiting ears.
As if I was always meant for it,
I saved myself just to hear the tale.
It becomes lover and mother to me.
God and devil.
How I abhor it's mute presence
And find comfort in it's every whispered second.
It becomes Holy and Heavy.
And I am it's single lone virgin priestess.
Offering sacrifice of words
And melody's
And sound
In wordless absolution.
Giving it my voice,
At midnight and one,
And two, and three,
til even four or five.
I tread this dreaming house
With quiet footfalls
Drifting in and out
Stopping to explore this night world
Prying secrets from the moon
And only she would tell me
For I am pure now, like she.
And I am aging fast
With these secrets
Weighing down.
Not that I care.
I keep them,
And they become part of me.
And I belong to it,
But it does not belong to me.
This world of wakefulness.
I give it my self to do with what it will.
It dwells in this house
As if I had wanted it.
But we are both unwanted.
It gives me the time
To dangle my mind
To erode my thoughts
Into sugar crystals.
That granule into white mountains
Somewhere distant of here.
I drop thoughts,
Awful and ugly,
Like bombs
Where no one ever was.
Or balls
Against the floor
Just to see if they'll bounce.
I dismantle life's complexity's
Into grains of sand
And blow them about
On the coffee table.
And I wonder if I'm God now
Or merely mortal.
I watch the day punch
The living fuck out of the sky.
I hear the sounds of bones crack
And the bloody light
Globing about like an awful hangover.
I am not pure anymore.
I am a night whore with to much ridding.
This worn papery skin is no longer
Alabaster and smooth.
The purple circles
Carve hollows under
These stupid eye sockets.
Washing up like a bruise.
Day has hit me
For I belong with the night.
I am the child it never wanted
Or the lover it couldn't give a damn for.
It pulls me,
Tugging, stabbing,
To show me I am real.
I am not a ghost
. . . or a priestess.
I will be what it wants.
But I refuse.
My eyes are aflame,
Burning and red.
I dismiss it.
I will not dream anymore.
Not for you, for I, for it, for them.
I belong now.
And thats all that matters.
I count the taps in the dark.
I stare into blackness
And mark the paces of the changing hours.
I hear all
As if I am the only person alive
And sometimes I fantasize that I am.
I waste hours into thinking
I let them slip down the walls,
Pooling on the carpet.
The second hand of a clock
Is a slow heartbeat
Dripping morphine into my eyes.
I don't feel.
There is no need of feeling.
Only cool observance.
I live lives,
A new one every hour
And become master of every domain
I could build city's just to burn them
And empires just to drown them in a sea.
And I think of you . . .
I don't dream or plan
Or spin with different outcomes
And perfect ends.
I just remember.
I listen to the silence
And gather what wisdom it has to offer.
The story of my agelessness
Is told and retold
Into waiting ears.
As if I was always meant for it,
I saved myself just to hear the tale.
It becomes lover and mother to me.
God and devil.
How I abhor it's mute presence
And find comfort in it's every whispered second.
It becomes Holy and Heavy.
And I am it's single lone virgin priestess.
Offering sacrifice of words
And melody's
And sound
In wordless absolution.
Giving it my voice,
At midnight and one,
And two, and three,
til even four or five.
I tread this dreaming house
With quiet footfalls
Drifting in and out
Stopping to explore this night world
Prying secrets from the moon
And only she would tell me
For I am pure now, like she.
And I am aging fast
With these secrets
Weighing down.
Not that I care.
I keep them,
And they become part of me.
And I belong to it,
But it does not belong to me.
This world of wakefulness.
I give it my self to do with what it will.
It dwells in this house
As if I had wanted it.
But we are both unwanted.
It gives me the time
To dangle my mind
To erode my thoughts
Into sugar crystals.
That granule into white mountains
Somewhere distant of here.
I drop thoughts,
Awful and ugly,
Like bombs
Where no one ever was.
Or balls
Against the floor
Just to see if they'll bounce.
I dismantle life's complexity's
Into grains of sand
And blow them about
On the coffee table.
And I wonder if I'm God now
Or merely mortal.
I watch the day punch
The living fuck out of the sky.
I hear the sounds of bones crack
And the bloody light
Globing about like an awful hangover.
I am not pure anymore.
I am a night whore with to much ridding.
This worn papery skin is no longer
Alabaster and smooth.
The purple circles
Carve hollows under
These stupid eye sockets.
Washing up like a bruise.
Day has hit me
For I belong with the night.
I am the child it never wanted
Or the lover it couldn't give a damn for.
It pulls me,
Tugging, stabbing,
To show me I am real.
I am not a ghost
. . . or a priestess.
I will be what it wants.
But I refuse.
My eyes are aflame,
Burning and red.
I dismiss it.
I will not dream anymore.
Not for you, for I, for it, for them.
I belong now.
And thats all that matters.
Monday, October 12, 2009
A Cold
Congestion.
I'm all clogged up.
Swollen shut.
I don't want to be open.
Leave me
And let me sleep
With nothing but tissues and nyquil
Perhaps a good movie.
No.
On second thought . . .
forget the movie.
I'm all clogged up.
Swollen shut.
I don't want to be open.
Leave me
And let me sleep
With nothing but tissues and nyquil
Perhaps a good movie.
No.
On second thought . . .
forget the movie.
In a world without you.
In a world with out you.
A world i would of made less cold,
Less distant.
Where we could have a room between us
And not long long miles.
Were I could say your name
And you would hear me.
Instead of spiders dancing quietly in webs,
Instead of the children sleeping down stairs.
We would never realize or come to learn
What love is
Through the sweet and silent sacrifice
Of mothers lies.
We would never know the faults of our fathers
And they would be kings still in our eyes.
And mother would be washing dishes and wiping food off our chins
Instead of bleeding tissue boxes dry
We would never grow up . . . Like this.
no, never
like this. . .
A world i would of made less cold,
Less distant.
Where we could have a room between us
And not long long miles.
Were I could say your name
And you would hear me.
Instead of spiders dancing quietly in webs,
Instead of the children sleeping down stairs.
We would never realize or come to learn
What love is
Through the sweet and silent sacrifice
Of mothers lies.
We would never know the faults of our fathers
And they would be kings still in our eyes.
And mother would be washing dishes and wiping food off our chins
Instead of bleeding tissue boxes dry
We would never grow up . . . Like this.
no, never
like this. . .
Sunday, October 11, 2009
October
Today is our anniversary of sorts
The dawn comes
Muted and gray
I lay here
My eyes swollen
Like I've been hit
And perhaps I have
I heard the thunder waking me
In the middle of the night
But now all is calm.
The rain drips
Into the silence.
October has not been kind to me
And whatever this weather brings
It does not bring love back.
It is over
And I let the dream
Slip away into morning.
This was the last,
The last bit of me.
Every day will be a mile
That moves me further from you
I can live,
Smile,
Remember how to forget. . .
But I don't forget anything,
Dear.
Let every memory fade,
Light uncatchable joy
Has fled.
If God is merciful
I'll forget your name
And never remember I had it once.
You rescued me
And pulled my heart from it's dark hiding place.
You could of left me alone
And I would've been happy.
Some people want to be found. I don't.
Let the salt abrade me
Til I am no longer what I am.
I return the gifts of bravery and trust.
You have no right to tell me to be unafraid
When you are all that I fear.
Go. Take the dream with you
I don't want it anymore
I don't want anything.
Leave me to be.
I am over.
The dawn comes
Muted and gray
I lay here
My eyes swollen
Like I've been hit
And perhaps I have
I heard the thunder waking me
In the middle of the night
But now all is calm.
The rain drips
Into the silence.
October has not been kind to me
And whatever this weather brings
It does not bring love back.
It is over
And I let the dream
Slip away into morning.
This was the last,
The last bit of me.
Every day will be a mile
That moves me further from you
I can live,
Smile,
Remember how to forget. . .
But I don't forget anything,
Dear.
Let every memory fade,
Light uncatchable joy
Has fled.
If God is merciful
I'll forget your name
And never remember I had it once.
You rescued me
And pulled my heart from it's dark hiding place.
You could of left me alone
And I would've been happy.
Some people want to be found. I don't.
Let the salt abrade me
Til I am no longer what I am.
I return the gifts of bravery and trust.
You have no right to tell me to be unafraid
When you are all that I fear.
Go. Take the dream with you
I don't want it anymore
I don't want anything.
Leave me to be.
I am over.
Clouds
I wish I could drink in the sun
(the original one)
Drown in that air.
Instead of being weighed down
By clouds I could never touch,
I could never hold.
I dream of their feathery softness
Their radiant transparencies.
I shed the globules of fat
Off this human carcass
So I may rise.
Rise and tangle my hands,
My arms, my face,
In that space of unbelief
That is past hope into something greater
But simple and without fear or longing.
I would bring the whisps
Of pale incandescence to my lips
Breathing in,
Kissing inward and out.
Sliding it through my fingertips
The way I would strands of silky hair.
Holding it
Like memories.
The faint smell of powder
And cool touch of pearls on my cheek
Of a mother that would of held me.
The aroma of apple pie,
And being nestled in the crook of her arm
While she read story's of palaces in the sky.
A father that would of wanted me.
Please don't keep me away.
Grounded.
Don't let me stay
Down here
Where I cannot touch you.
I love you.
Don't turn dark for me.
Don't let
Dreams be
All I can have.
(the original one)
Drown in that air.
Instead of being weighed down
By clouds I could never touch,
I could never hold.
I dream of their feathery softness
Their radiant transparencies.
I shed the globules of fat
Off this human carcass
So I may rise.
Rise and tangle my hands,
My arms, my face,
In that space of unbelief
That is past hope into something greater
But simple and without fear or longing.
I would bring the whisps
Of pale incandescence to my lips
Breathing in,
Kissing inward and out.
Sliding it through my fingertips
The way I would strands of silky hair.
Holding it
Like memories.
The faint smell of powder
And cool touch of pearls on my cheek
Of a mother that would of held me.
The aroma of apple pie,
And being nestled in the crook of her arm
While she read story's of palaces in the sky.
A father that would of wanted me.
Please don't keep me away.
Grounded.
Don't let me stay
Down here
Where I cannot touch you.
I love you.
Don't turn dark for me.
Don't let
Dreams be
All I can have.
The End. (Again)
"9/25/09 -
I'm getting far to deep with you.
It hurt when I thought you wouldn't call
like all the others.
I thought this could be the beginning of the end.
I'm such a stupid girl.
Break my heart
So it can never be broken again.
For after you,
I don't want any other.
I hate feeling stupid.
I hate this easy vulnerability.
So fragile we are.
I could keep myself behind walls,
I could lock up my heart
In the highest tower of a fortress I've built,
But you would come
And kiss it,
Waking it of it's 100 year sleep,
And ruin everything.
I think you're playing with me
And I can't be played with anymore.
I'm not a toy
I'm a porcelain doll.
I've been dropped and kicked under beds
Far to many times.
I can't sustain another fall.
I would like to trust you
And believe in a thing called . . .
Caring and Protection
But I can't trust anybody
Or you.
But I want to
And that has got to count for something.
I wont tell you any of this
For though I want you to understand
I know you wont.
All the pain I carry around will only hurt you.
I'm trying to let go,
Dipping my toe tentatively into the water,
But I can't just yet.
Please be patient with me.
You have no idea how hard
Freedom is."
-All this stupid emotional bullshit. In a few words - I'm scared and rightly so. It's not you it's me. "
You, good sir, are a bastard. You have no idea how bad what you've really done is.
I'm getting far to deep with you.
It hurt when I thought you wouldn't call
like all the others.
I thought this could be the beginning of the end.
I'm such a stupid girl.
Break my heart
So it can never be broken again.
For after you,
I don't want any other.
I hate feeling stupid.
I hate this easy vulnerability.
So fragile we are.
I could keep myself behind walls,
I could lock up my heart
In the highest tower of a fortress I've built,
But you would come
And kiss it,
Waking it of it's 100 year sleep,
And ruin everything.
I think you're playing with me
And I can't be played with anymore.
I'm not a toy
I'm a porcelain doll.
I've been dropped and kicked under beds
Far to many times.
I can't sustain another fall.
I would like to trust you
And believe in a thing called . . .
Caring and Protection
But I can't trust anybody
Or you.
But I want to
And that has got to count for something.
I wont tell you any of this
For though I want you to understand
I know you wont.
All the pain I carry around will only hurt you.
I'm trying to let go,
Dipping my toe tentatively into the water,
But I can't just yet.
Please be patient with me.
You have no idea how hard
Freedom is."
-All this stupid emotional bullshit. In a few words - I'm scared and rightly so. It's not you it's me. "
You, good sir, are a bastard. You have no idea how bad what you've really done is.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Sometimes I think I have to many deep thoughts in my head
And when they come out the sound like shit and over dramatic.
So I think of ways to rework whats on my mind.
To take one small piece of beauty and focus on it.
Closing a piece here, or opening another . . .
or maybe I think all at once to slow and not at all.
Everything doesn't make sense. but does it have to?
Can't we just let the flowing take us?
Take us where it will?
I'm an idiot and I fancy thoughts to much.
These words and phases flow through my mind at the oddest times
and I find them beautiful.
In worlds with out you . . .
My cold hands . . .
I never left you . . .
I arise burning and virtuous . . .
I do not dream [of you ]anymore . . .
And when they come out the sound like shit and over dramatic.
So I think of ways to rework whats on my mind.
To take one small piece of beauty and focus on it.
Closing a piece here, or opening another . . .
or maybe I think all at once to slow and not at all.
Everything doesn't make sense. but does it have to?
Can't we just let the flowing take us?
Take us where it will?
I'm an idiot and I fancy thoughts to much.
These words and phases flow through my mind at the oddest times
and I find them beautiful.
In worlds with out you . . .
My cold hands . . .
I never left you . . .
I arise burning and virtuous . . .
I do not dream [of you ]anymore . . .
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Blah Blah Blah Blah Blabady Blah
I'm begining to think that everything I do is shit.
So why bother doing anything at all?
So why bother doing anything at all?
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Harlott
Drill inside me.
Don't you understand?
I want you to use me.
I want to feel the pricks
And burns of to much use.
I want you to feel nothing for me
As I do you.
Remain unattached
And floating
Like reflections in mirorless deeps.
Don't romance me.
Don't care
Or call me for days.
I like the numb
That comes
From to much heartbreak.
I like arsenic
And all things bitter.
Staving myself
From all beauty
And 'the loves of me'
It'll only do if it's no good
And worse.
Be fatal
And I'll kiss you
Be sweet if only distantly.
I know what you want
And only I,
I can give it to you.
As close to necrophilia
As a breath.
I'm cold but alive
If that
If barely.
Don't deny
You could push into
My stiff limbs
For hours.
I like it
Or as close to like as
I could come.
You adore
The gray perfect
Of me
Of my nothingness.
No remorse
No attachment
I put to much of me into
these pages
How dull
They seem.
How monotone.
I will learn to lie better
I promise
I will I'm sure
But somehow the words don't mean
Anything.
Now.
.
Don't you understand?
I want you to use me.
I want to feel the pricks
And burns of to much use.
I want you to feel nothing for me
As I do you.
Remain unattached
And floating
Like reflections in mirorless deeps.
Don't romance me.
Don't care
Or call me for days.
I like the numb
That comes
From to much heartbreak.
I like arsenic
And all things bitter.
Staving myself
From all beauty
And 'the loves of me'
It'll only do if it's no good
And worse.
Be fatal
And I'll kiss you
Be sweet if only distantly.
I know what you want
And only I,
I can give it to you.
As close to necrophilia
As a breath.
I'm cold but alive
If that
If barely.
Don't deny
You could push into
My stiff limbs
For hours.
I like it
Or as close to like as
I could come.
You adore
The gray perfect
Of me
Of my nothingness.
No remorse
No attachment
I put to much of me into
these pages
How dull
They seem.
How monotone.
I will learn to lie better
I promise
I will I'm sure
But somehow the words don't mean
Anything.
Now.
.
How Do I Love?
Remember when we were naive
And we said that we'd love forever?
Now I am tired
And sitting here
Watching the rain
Drip, drip, drip,
With the cigarettes
I don't smoke
And the whiskey
I don't drink.
We rode the pendulum
Of emotion
Swinging back and forth
And maybe you meant it
Or you were just bored.
I know I was
And sick of a sort of
Loneliness.
I suppose I should now confess I lied.
But that's only half truth
My emotions don't back up my words
And whatever heart I have is unsure.
Now that I have this
This us
I don't know how to proceed.
How do I love?
There is no book
To learn from
Or role model which I may rob of traits.
So I act,
And I feel that you do as well
We both suit our respective parts
We don't misstep
But the steps that are scripted to us.
But it isn't real
And we both know.
Though we deny it
Waiting for the day
When it will be real.
If it is to come.
We lie
With all honestly
And deceive so sincerely
That maybe our good intentions
Might change this in what it should be
Or could be.
Maybe we'll stop being Casanova
And simple fade
removing all glamor
To you and I.
And we said that we'd love forever?
Now I am tired
And sitting here
Watching the rain
Drip, drip, drip,
With the cigarettes
I don't smoke
And the whiskey
I don't drink.
We rode the pendulum
Of emotion
Swinging back and forth
And maybe you meant it
Or you were just bored.
I know I was
And sick of a sort of
Loneliness.
I suppose I should now confess I lied.
But that's only half truth
My emotions don't back up my words
And whatever heart I have is unsure.
Now that I have this
This us
I don't know how to proceed.
How do I love?
There is no book
To learn from
Or role model which I may rob of traits.
So I act,
And I feel that you do as well
We both suit our respective parts
We don't misstep
But the steps that are scripted to us.
But it isn't real
And we both know.
Though we deny it
Waiting for the day
When it will be real.
If it is to come.
We lie
With all honestly
And deceive so sincerely
That maybe our good intentions
Might change this in what it should be
Or could be.
Maybe we'll stop being Casanova
And simple fade
removing all glamor
To you and I.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Hope.
Please I want to let you know, but I don't want to speak.
You're destroying me and I love it.
You will kill me if you stop.
I'm so afraid of this.
This is so so dangerous.
I have a safe shell.
Promise me that if you take me from it
You will watch me and protect me.
I know I shouldn't
I know.
Trust has gotten me nowhere
But I want to trust you.
Do you hear me?
I want to make my self vulnerable to you
I am trembling but open.
Please, Please don't be like them.
I am already trusting you not to.
Don't hurt me.
You could
So easily
Already.
You're destroying me and I love it.
You will kill me if you stop.
I'm so afraid of this.
This is so so dangerous.
I have a safe shell.
Promise me that if you take me from it
You will watch me and protect me.
I know I shouldn't
I know.
Trust has gotten me nowhere
But I want to trust you.
Do you hear me?
I want to make my self vulnerable to you
I am trembling but open.
Please, Please don't be like them.
I am already trusting you not to.
Don't hurt me.
You could
So easily
Already.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Age Worries
19. Who would want to be that age?
19. It seems to old.
It's not a nice age, a certain age,
You can't just breeze into 19.
19. God, How odd.
Just a year to awkwardly be.
It's only acceptable if you're confidant,
If you know where you're going in life.
If it's your first year of collage
But for the rest of us it's agonizing.
A weired obtuse, that fits no where good.
I'm 18 and that's where I'd like to be.
I wasted the best year of my life with you.
And after we broke up
Spent the last half of this one rotting.
I did nothing with my 18.
18 Could be an age of broken deep love
And growing up and creating
Something breathtakingly beautiful
To the beat of never dying
And music pounding on a darkened dance floor,
And purpose.
But I failed to do that.
And now I'll be 19.
It's not perfect, pretty, like 18.
It's not the golden carefree 17.
It's not even a sweet 16.
19.
How awkwardly odd.
The number makes me sick.
19.
Not even completed by 20.
But one final step closer.
By then I'll be hurdled
Into the adult world.
No more young and innocent
And youthfully beautiful
That youth that still clings
To childhood
It's perfection and hope.
20.
Who will want me then?
19. It seems to old.
It's not a nice age, a certain age,
You can't just breeze into 19.
19. God, How odd.
Just a year to awkwardly be.
It's only acceptable if you're confidant,
If you know where you're going in life.
If it's your first year of collage
But for the rest of us it's agonizing.
A weired obtuse, that fits no where good.
I'm 18 and that's where I'd like to be.
I wasted the best year of my life with you.
And after we broke up
Spent the last half of this one rotting.
I did nothing with my 18.
18 Could be an age of broken deep love
And growing up and creating
Something breathtakingly beautiful
To the beat of never dying
And music pounding on a darkened dance floor,
And purpose.
But I failed to do that.
And now I'll be 19.
It's not perfect, pretty, like 18.
It's not the golden carefree 17.
It's not even a sweet 16.
19.
How awkwardly odd.
The number makes me sick.
19.
Not even completed by 20.
But one final step closer.
By then I'll be hurdled
Into the adult world.
No more young and innocent
And youthfully beautiful
That youth that still clings
To childhood
It's perfection and hope.
20.
Who will want me then?
Friday, September 4, 2009
Nic
I thought about you recently. I don't know why. Then I saw you today, I thought it was a woman at first but then no, it was you. You were with mike (?) that singer from Touching Mrs. Dash. His hair was floating about in it's frizzy way, gauzy in the late noon sun,the kind of light that makes everything look buttery and absolutely meltable. I love that time of day.
I would of waved but I didn't recognize you til it was too late. But I'm kind of glad I didn't. You looked happy in that way that kids do when savoring every last drop of summer vacation, sponging up the warmth and carefree attitude that speaks of sultry nights and heat baked pavement with nothing to do but buy 98 cent slushys from Cumberland Farms and watch your shadow as the sun fries your skin.
So I thought I'd say hi in this sorta anonymous way, while your eyes are growing bloodshot from starring at the artificial light of a computer screen. Maybe your reading this at the brick house (do you still go there anymore?) perhaps your in your house or maybe out somewhere else, the multiple places you could, should, and probably are.
This started out as a comment and now It's a mini essay. My finger hovers on the 'backspace' button to replace this utterly stupid unasked for rambling with a non-discript "hey". But then I think "Hell, . . . . why not?"
I would of waved but I didn't recognize you til it was too late. But I'm kind of glad I didn't. You looked happy in that way that kids do when savoring every last drop of summer vacation, sponging up the warmth and carefree attitude that speaks of sultry nights and heat baked pavement with nothing to do but buy 98 cent slushys from Cumberland Farms and watch your shadow as the sun fries your skin.
So I thought I'd say hi in this sorta anonymous way, while your eyes are growing bloodshot from starring at the artificial light of a computer screen. Maybe your reading this at the brick house (do you still go there anymore?) perhaps your in your house or maybe out somewhere else, the multiple places you could, should, and probably are.
This started out as a comment and now It's a mini essay. My finger hovers on the 'backspace' button to replace this utterly stupid unasked for rambling with a non-discript "hey". But then I think "Hell, . . . . why not?"
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Idk. Life
It's worse then I thought.
God, you actually love her.
I want that. I want that love that you have. I want to for once not have to sacrifice myself and leave this battlefield empty handed. Loosing the pieces of me, that once are gone you don't want me anymore.
I've given all my sympathy, all my goodness, all that was pure and right, laid down all beauty and desires for a better life. . . just to have to smile and gather whats left together. To act like it's ok, like I'm fine with it.
I depart head down and feet bare. I don't want this anymore. I have nothing left to give. I have no sacrifice in me that has not already been spilled and pawed over and at last rejected. I cannot love anymore. I haven't the strength.
I hope and I long from some deep dark center of my self. I weep but I whisper it, if only in my head -
Someday I'll find a man that loves me.
God, you actually love her.
I want that. I want that love that you have. I want to for once not have to sacrifice myself and leave this battlefield empty handed. Loosing the pieces of me, that once are gone you don't want me anymore.
I've given all my sympathy, all my goodness, all that was pure and right, laid down all beauty and desires for a better life. . . just to have to smile and gather whats left together. To act like it's ok, like I'm fine with it.
I depart head down and feet bare. I don't want this anymore. I have nothing left to give. I have no sacrifice in me that has not already been spilled and pawed over and at last rejected. I cannot love anymore. I haven't the strength.
I hope and I long from some deep dark center of my self. I weep but I whisper it, if only in my head -
Someday I'll find a man that loves me.
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