You know, like that one time when you ran off to Columbia and took every reminder of who you were, with you? You know, like that time when you drove away into the ether, and the only thing remaining behind was a pair of hula hoops, duct taped together with pretty little patterns. You know, like that time when we were together at five-thirty in the…[Read more]
I can’t remember the last time I looked out from between the walls. An asylum – this mental institution, this place where white is a reminder that we’re bruised up inside. You know, you think the walls have eyes? It’s just the way the light reflects, really.
You’re seeing things again, just like me, darling.
This is my love poem to no one,
piece of fantasy
wherein I claim that you’re not actually real
you pretend to be
is just compromised immunity
place to be
where I can exist free from expectations
when I can just be me –
but you keep on intruding
I’m afraid for you, sometimes. I think a little longer than I should, and I remember the way you looked the first time you told me about having been to jail.
The fact that you were scared to death of going back.
That you didn’t think orange was your color, and how even having been there, just briefly, it changed you. A black spot on an…[Read more]
Little bits and pieces of your face flow by in my mental slideshow. I’m caught up in the way you look, the way I remember you looking and the way you might look in the future.
I’m spending time with your past-present-future selves all at once in this letter I’m writing to you and wondering how your slideshow face will look as you read it.…[Read more]
Baby, I’m worth it –
But the real question is if you are.
Because I remember this time – not so long ago – when maybe you weren’t. You weren’t worth the night of revelry, the crazy self-hatred that came along with a moment (or ten) of weakness.
Call me crazy as I sit up at night and wonder.
Were you worth it?
Oh, a class act.
You’re not the kind of person who could walk through the doors and be known all at once, are you?
You’re like me.
You see, we’re the kind of people who walk around in black with dark shadows under our eyes because we know things others don’t get, yet.
They’ll understand in time, but until then, we’ll categorize our angsty…[Read more]
We are two separate parts of a rope, you and I – two sides that coalesce in the middle, and when your wavelength starts out greater than mine, we’ll inevitably disrupt one another’s lives. When we meet on our way down our own little streets – only one way to go home from here, then BAM, smack into someone else. That’s when you and I will have to…[Read more]
You are still that same whirlwind that came to visit me once in a far off land. You’re the storm rider, storm shaker – you’re breaking down my walls with those grey-green eyes like sea foam turned angry under a slowly blackening sky.
If we had another moment, maybe I’d break, but that’s what’s so wonderful about the single touch of eyes in a…[Read more]
You wanted to catch up to me like a thunderstorm, like a sea storm, like the high winds that captivate my heart. You wanted to push me off to the side of the freeway and make me have to take cover, but I have to tell you lover, that I’m never going to stop fighting back. I have my survival kit on my shoulders now, a fortress around my heart, and…[Read more]
Did you ever have an idea, a hope or a dream that you wanted?
I know you did once.
I saw it, the first time I saw you, the old homeless man who could have been God, sitting on the corner of Fourth and Main, looking at me as I stared at you, and wondering, what’s this girl got to do with anything?
You must have been something once, a son, a…[Read more]
You wanted to get me into cookies again.
Do you remember when we were children, and the only thing you ever wanted from my house was the box of vanilla wafers? I remember watching you fight the dog for the crumbs on the floor. Remember seeing my mother walk in on us, me in the chair, peering down at you as you licked your fingers and dabbed up…[Read more]
I had a vague idea when I started today that I was going to be accruing stories to be telling the rest of the world for years. That I was going to become the cave painter, and leave my ideas behind the same way Hansel and Gretel left behind their breadcrumbs, for someone else to follow, for someone else to be curious about. Or maybe just for some…[Read more]
This isn’t about abandonment or leaving me behind.
This is not about the five stars peeled down to three.
This isn’t even about the way you don’t look at me in the mornings anymore.
It’s about the moments when you look through me because I’ve gone so easy in your eyes, so soft, so preciously invisible that you can’t possibly find me to pin the…[Read more]
this isn’t what i wanted to feel like
this isnt what i had in mind when i said yes
i wanted to have safety and caring
not this control
this exertion over me
this bit of me ripped out and kept caged
even though you say its for my own good
my own safety
even though you swear youre not trying to hurt me
that this is just another aspect of…[Read more]
youre a melody i didnt want to have to sing twice
but i guess i can for the sake of the carbs
because i remember how well i liked you
before we were separated
this whole distance thing
just aint working out
so dear donut without the sugar
dear happiness sans cream cheese
dear little round shigamajig that used to make my days so…[Read more]
I keep thinking that Kiera might not appreciate chocolate – because that was my first thought, that we’d get a bunch of Godiva and then sit together and chillax as we munched pizza and such. But there’s this whole gluten free thing, and apparently chocolate has wheat in it. So she’d get sick. And so instead I went to the second K in my life,…[Read more]
I’m on the phone and I just want to talk with someone and this blasted music is just playing, and playing and suddenly there are lyrics and I can’t understand them. These songs… I can’t believe it. Still busy? How many people use Teavana’s service? How long am I going to have to hold? What IS this?
What’s funny is that it’s not funny.