Tuesday, January 29, 2008

"you've got so much love in you."

makes me want to shout and smile and run and scream and jump and play and live.

i've felt this before.

this time, though, I'm gonna try my hardest to do something to make it permanent.

Sunday, January 27, 2008

kissed you, didn't miss you. missed you, didn't kiss you.

the only song that can make my heart hurt
physically, i mean. none of that mental shit i've been putting myself through.
brings up thoughts of summer rain.
and salty skin
and sunburn afternoons
and warm water
and disposable cameras
and so many firsts
and too much more.

putting everything on ice only to wait till it freezes to the core
i never really know what i'm talking about
i'm gonna change that someday

"you should try saying 'no' once in a while."

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

to the great heights of vanity.

he told me, "please stop scraping the skin off old wounds."

but i told him, "that's how they become scars."

Saturday, January 19, 2008

strangers on this road, we all are.

i put your face in boxes at one in the morning last night.
i read those stories and leafed those journals for the last time.
i took down all those photostrips from the summer,
i took every polaroid from my wall, every drawing you ever gave me,
every present, every note, every book,
i put them into a box, and buried them from my head.
i vow not to think of any times i've had with you with any nostalgia,
with any want to go back, with any smile on my features,
with any love.


I'm done.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

the compression of your heart hurts at first, but you ache for it when it's gone.

i never really understood. i just felt.
and was.
it was the kind of season that got stuck in your head. or just got stuck in general.
cold. coats. hats. gloves. uniforms. waiting at the bus stop. jamming earbuds into your ears and leaning your head against the metal. watching the snow. feeling the wind.
feeling out your surroundings.
you were okay because no one knew you. they didn't know what to expect.
once they learned, once they judged, once they expected, it was shot down.
it was brief.
it was internal.
it was important.
it was the hardest time.
it was my last moment of being innocent.

i miss it. but it would kill me if i went back. and that's impossible to do anyhow.

up on a hill, windy in a playground, getting mail and talking with your friends.
it was my love and it went too fast.

I’m calling in sick (of myself) tomorrow.

i stare in the mirror and don't even see what looks back and follows me.
my eyes are red and swolen and sad. they reflect nothing, they are wide and bright, but i feel nothing like what they say. more like the kid dropped off a cliff.
lived a whole life without even living. there's something in my soul that tells me everything i know.
i am old in my head and young in my body. and long to find a way to fuse the two.
but all i've come up with is sitting alone and ignoring the way my stomach hurts when i breathe. and the way i can't think about anything else but me.
it's a self-centered way i've perfected now. it revolves around me. but only halfheartedly.
but i can see through all the dumb things you've done. i can see the person you are. and your tiny body gets crushed in the gravity of it.
but i am sick of living in this body. i am sick of my scrawniness and misshapen form. i am sick of my straw hair and my beady eyes and my flaky lips.
i don't know how to board up all my walls. because the twister is coming and i am the only one left in town. the only one with more than a clue. and the only one to wake up.

get out. i need to branch away. i need to grow, and i need to live.

Sunday, January 13, 2008


right wrist pain.
cutting off the bands.
wrinkled fingers.
greasy hair.
goofy smile.
disconnected songs in my head.

cuffed jeans, dirty clothes, little stomach.
but most of all the appetite.

get it together, kid.

Thursday, January 10, 2008

you are all straight lines and vanity.
unknowing obsession and hopeless hopelessness.
in the worst way.
you judge when you're awake and think when you're asleep.
you've got all the wit in the world waiting inside your stereo.
but you are a consumer, not a creator.
you will never go through a hard time without complaining about it the entire way through.
it's like you believe the world belongs to you.
like you can put everything on a postcard and ship it off to yourself.
well you can't.
everything 'cool' you do is done in complete consciousness.
shut your eyes.
become something real.
because i'm not sure if i can believe in you anymore.

Tuesday, January 8, 2008


how are moral compasses made? how are they created? how do they work? who are their mothers? what movies do they watch? are they single or married? where do they live? what do they do? what do they think of at night? do they participate in world events? do they read the newspaper? are they funny? do they tell good jokes? do they have many friends? do they have a best friend? is their best friend a screwup?
where can i find one?

Monday, January 7, 2008

i can tell, you're raising hell.

i've never been a stargirl. i keep hiding my face in my hands.
you say the best lines and reference the most credible things, and i'm having trouble with existing right now.
maybe i can blame some of it on physical capabilities and clumsy hands.
probably not.

i like to say it's a throwback to the '05 days.
which isn't a good thing, in all honesty.

"i just wanna feel how you do tonight.
give me your warm-weather heart,
and hand over that head you've so badly broken.

i can play doctor,
give you a pill and some med-term advice,
but the truth is that all i want
is to put your blood in mine.

and feel what you are,
heavy in my veins
and pumping through my heart.

all i want is to be you for a second.
so i can understand."

Thursday, January 3, 2008

proof that i will never become a computer genius.

the bottom of my screen, the little blue bar that shows the time and has the little 'start' thingy on it on the left?
yeah, that thing?

don't know how. thank god i know ctrl+alt+delete and that the little flag button on the keyboard makes the 'start' thing pop up.

i am a mechanical idiot.