unspoken words

Congrats, Caitlin.

2011-10-15T22:45:00.000-05:00

You’ve made it to twenty-one.
You’ve discovered who you are without anyone else’s help.
You worked hard and lasted four years at your job.
You learned to let go.
Everytime you felt like giving up, you kept going.
You survived two years without her.
You’re a better person than you were then.
And you’re better off.
Sure, there are things that you still need to learn, absorb, and conquer, but you’ve made it this far.
What’s stopping you from going forward now?
Nothing.
Nothing
but
yourself.
Lets change that.

2010-07-06T00:30:00.000-05:00

We are separated by miles.

Between us stretches land never-ending. Vast open pastures filled with domesticated animals mark this distance. Along with overgrown pine housing shapeless beasts and dense waters overpopulated by a variety of fish.

And there are small towns with enough electricity to light up three powerless cities. Homes with enough love inside them to unite a whole divided country.

And above us are an infinite amount of stars caught in a web of darkness sprawled across the sky.

I wonder if you can see them just as I do now? Do they sparkle in hopes of catching your eye? Or has a of polluted wind draped over your murky heavens? Is there an opaque mist flooding your stratasphere, choking the cosmos?

And when you open your eyes to daylight, do you wish I was there with you? Do you feel the same warmth of the sun beaming down upon your bare flesh? Do you wish it were my warmth instead?

And when you lie in your twin-sized bed do you feel what I feel? Does your heart hurt? Do you feel that aching?

I know I do. It cuts into my chest and slices at my heart, puncturing my already healing wounds. It lacerates every regenerated piece of me. It creates brand new gashes that I have to tend to over and over again. This damage is more than I can endure.

And even as I write this, you will never understand how much it hurts because even though I try, words cannot apprehend the unwordly pain I feel when we're not together.

Judas Kiss

2010-03-13T20:00:00.000-06:00

It has been seven months, you're right, much too long. Seven months to rethink everything over and over again, question myself, wail in these isolating walls, and to cut my limbs until they were almost completely separate from my body. Providing me with too much time. A time to open new doors that were once locked with deadbolts. So many ticking clocks as I cried buckets of saline tears.

You had coaxed the one person I thought I had truly loved into leaving me. I couldn't believe you had deceived me. You had shunned me out of the only place I had ever felt was my home. You and your one true love... so manipulative and misleading.

I was truly convinced that God hated me or wanted to punish me. When in all actuality all I ever did was try to support you.

That day I came screaming. I had broken into a million pieces. You had left me torn; a crumpled heap on the damaged floor. My sister and mother so frightened, holding onto me as I saturated their shoulders with my tears and gorged their ears with my shrieks.

I couldn't just sit around and wait for death to find me. I didn't want to die; not really, but how many times have I contemplated it? How long did I wish for my death, my body contaminated by blood spurting from my wrists?

My mother took me somewhere safe. It was nice being so distant from memories, but I still felt so alone. I ate, I barely slept, I went to work and lost myself in it. I also talked to the staff. I cleaned up after people. But nothing could distract me from your betrayal. It was never escaping.

Nine years. Nine years of so-called friendship being thrown in my face. I had been nothing but supportive of you. I had been there every step of the way. Through your bulimia, your condescending attitude, when you found out your mother had killed your dog. When your older brother discovered his unfaithful wife's secret. When you needed me the most, I was there to hold your hand, to let you cry on me, bury myself in your life, your problems. But now when I needed you the most you weren't there.

Nine years! And you'd trade all of it just for one person... a boy, not a man in any means, just a boy. A boy with a perfect smile, one who could charm his way into anyone's heart and then spread his falsehood like fire; make anyone believe.

Eventually I got out of my rut. I went home. You still weren't there.

I made new friends and temporarily forgot about you. I masked my pain with happiness.

I met someone. I found my true best friend. He doesn't expect me to be anyone but myself. I fell in love.

You sent me a birthday card. I didn't send you anything the following week.

You got married. You invited everyone. Everyone except my sister and I. You found someplace that wasn't your parent's.

I wrote it down. I placed it in an envelope along with a few other items. I put that in the church's mailbox. I gave up on you like you had given up on me.

You wrote me a letter saying I shouldn't give up on God. I hadn't. I had just given up on your God. I never wrote back.

Three months later you contact me, wanting a reconciliation. I reply making it very clear I am not ready. You don't understand.

Why should we discuss everything that happened? So you can bring the focus back on you? Like you always have? Now that it's not about you, it's about me and my happiness, you want to rewind time? I've spent seven months learning who I was without you. And finding true friendship, true love. I don't know if I want to go back.

What would it mean to be friends again? I don't know. Church? Jesus? God? Casey? Neil? Youth group? You?! I had all of that once, but once upon a time is only once upon a time. It isn't right now. It isn't who I am now. I've strayed away from that path. How can I retrace my steps now? Thanks to you I didn't and still don't have anything to lead me back to where I had started.

God knows how badly I want to make this right. How I wish we could go back to when we were stitched together by the hip, when we were still innocent and the world wasn't important. How I want to fix this blight. But can I make this right? Can we fix this? Or is this wound too irreparable to even try?

finished on 03/16/10 at 6:43pm

2010-02-03T22:22:00.001-06:00

I wish you could feel what I feel for you. That way you'd understand why I pull you close, why I worry about you driving home in the winter night. That way you'd understand why I can't see myself without you.
I feel as though my insides are trapped ---- my heart stowed away in a glass chamber, watching you and I. Observing us as we lock lips on my downstairs couch, as my fingers frolic through your red bushels of hair. Scrutinizing me each time my hands graze across your frame, admiring your freckled shoulders; every tiny speck is scattered ---- pertaining to the stars, a whole universe mapped out on your body. It's keeping look-out as we unfold in the backseat of your parent's vehicle; as you make love to me.
Meanwhile, my heart is caught in a storm, smothered in saturation. It clenches metal bars and screams your name in agony. It frantically searches for an exit. No shelter to shield itself. Just the constant madness from above. Nothing but aching for you.
I've come to believe that this torture won't cease until I find some way to direct these intense emotions towards you. Not until I summon enough courage to hand you my heart. I know I'm scared, I know what I fear, but I also know you bring a smile to my face. I know that you're the one. I swear on my very gave you are.
And until I do finally give it up, just know that you do have my heart. And that I love you.

2009-09-20T12:00:00.005-05:00

There has always been this sense of doubt residing within me. Like a black hole sucking me into another mutilating realm. Like an aching in my heart, never ceasing.
I remember walking the aisles listening to a deafening voice preach about God and his power. I'd bow down, sign the cross from my temple to my chest and ask for forgiveness, the pressure of a metal bar bearing on my kneecaps emanating the constant guilt I felt.
I can still feel the liberating breeze that grazed my arms as I walked through the ivory garden. How the statues glowed brightly in the sunlight, the glistening of their marble skin as they held their hands up in prayer. Crowds would stoop to place wild flowers on their plastered feet; the bright inflorescence. I couldn't bring myself to do the same.
And I recall feeling whole again. My friends surrounding me as I raised my palms to the sky in praise. I let this consciousness consume me. I believed in this spiritual empowerment. I'd pray with my friends, my beloved family, believing Jesus could save me from my darkness. Truly convinced that God existed.
Looking back now I realize how uncorrupted I was, how naive. I was oblivious to the true nature of things. I did not know that God was a tool to be taken advantage of. I did not know that faith was about changing oneself to the point of no return; disrobing your true skin and replacing it with a patronizing sheath made of thorns. And I most certainly did not know that Christianity was about thoughtlessness in its entirety. A complete disregard for those who need that belief, that unconditional love the most.
That faith has become a power-trip, a way to gain the vulnerable and susceptible to manipulation. Just another blinded reason to point fingers and denounce others. I once thought that Christians were loving and accepting people ----- I was so wrong.
Now all I see is red. Not just the crimson that runs through my veins or the very blood that was shed that day on the cross, but also the color of hate. Hate for myself, hate for you, hate for Christianity, hate for Jesus, hate for God. You thought that abandoning me was the right thing to do. You thought deserting me was going to bring me closer, but in all actuality it pushed me further and further away from Him.
And you think you're a good friend? A good person? A good Christian? Not a chance.
While you're walking your so-called path of happiness I hope you trip and fall on the all the cracks. While you're busy converting the lost I'll be here not so lost. I won't be waiting for you to come back. I won't be hoping and praying you will be back.
And don't you dare pray for me. I hope you don't give a damn about my salvation. You should be praying for your own.

Is that what it takes, what it takes to believe?
I'm keeping my eyes open to see.

Witching Hour

2009-08-09T03:26:00.003-05:00

Stay up all hours of the night.
One, one forty-five, two.
Stare at the ceiling. Formulate faces out of tiny stucco pieces.
Become fixated on the light pouring from the broken fan. Blind yourself with its constant radiance. Blots of multi-colored circles dart across your vision.
Two thirty, three.
Drown yourself in the book. Keep reading no matter how distracted your mind may get.
Keep glancing at the clock and hope time doesn't catch up with you tomorrow.
Three forty.
Deafen your ears with blaring drumbeats and piercing screeches.
Rub your eyes. Blink. Close them.
Three fifty, four, four fifteen.
Move, turn, angle, curve, uncomfortable, shift again.
Five, five thirty.
Open your eyes. Face the dark.
Flip the switch.
Thoughts pacing back and forth.
'I knew I wasn't good enough.' - think, feel, think.
Get up, look in the mirror and hate what you see.
'FAT. UGLY. GROSS. HUGE. DISGUSTING. HATE. HATE. HATE.'
Draw those truthful words onto your stomach with a marker.
Wish, wish, wish.
Six.
Seven.
Quietly step into the bathroom. Search and search for it.
See it, grab it, rush out without a peep.
Seven thirty.
Pull up your drapery and begin.
1, 2, 3, 4... 10... 27, 28... 51, 52, 53...
Feel the tear, the rip, the cut; see the flood.
And cry.
Think and feel how ugly, how wrong, how selfish, how unworthy you are.
Think, feel, think again, feel more.
Think of how much better they are, he is without you.
And weep. And weep.
And weep some more.
Eight has just begun.
Clean, nurture, paste.
Wish.
Nine o'clock.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Sleep.

My Anathema

2009-06-09T18:01:00.002-05:00

Look at yourself.
So ugly, so disgusting.
Hair matted by sweat,
Skewed by excessive movement.
Eyes wild with defeat.
Cheeks moist with tears,
nose red from frustration.
Past marks of hate travel across thighs,
Old remembrances collected on forearms.
Fresh wounds leaking,
others crusting over.
Plethoras of flesh gathered around the abdomen,
like an floatation device wrapped around the waist,
preventing its carrier from drowning.
Black polish chipped at the toenails,
Micro-hairs sprouting from every pore.
Look at yourself.
So ugly, so disgusting.
So completely wrong.
The mirror isn’t the only truth.
From my actions to my very thoughts,
I see my ugliness everywhere.

2009-05-17T09:31:00.000-05:00

Jumping out of your mother's car, hair greasy and eyes wide awake, I have a plan. Sneaker skids towards the driver's side, I tap on your window hoping you'll push the button down so I can kiss you. But instead, like the silly boy you are, you open the door expecting a hug. You start to speak 'Oh, I thought... I'm stupid...' and I quickly reply with a 'No, you're not.'
Then you embrace me, touch my skin, my cat-hair infested t-shirt, hold me in the the bright morning light. Then I kiss you, hoping you feel it too, because God, this time I can feel it, I can feel the love. It starts from our contagious lips and spreads throughout my veins, shocking me with happiness. Making my heart burst. And we're still laughing at our backwards drive down the street, doing anything to hide from my parents just leaving the house.
I want to stay like this forever.
Eventually I make it to the door, key in hand, listening to rumbling of your mother's vehicle. Once inside I'm greeted by my furry friend. She wiggles her tail and dances on the wooden floor while I reminisce about our time spent together. And how we fell asleep on the couches, exhausted by the moonlight. And the fact that we woke up to the birds tweeting and the glow of the sun slowly filtering into your living room.
I want to stay this way forever.
I want to feel like the windows are rolled down, that the wind is flying my locks up into the air, that the stereo is blasting with an acoustic something every day of my life. And without you, I know that isn't possible.
So let's stay like this forever.

This is why I hate you.

2009-04-19T22:47:00.005-05:00

Everytime I'm alone I somehow think of you. And each time it's the same result.
I feel that horrible nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach begin to rise up spreading to my tingling palms.
Then the corners of my eyes begin to well up with tears, as if they'd rather spill over the edge than stay in their designated spot, their optical sockets.
And as I weep and whimper, all I embody is pure hatred. From the very root of my jet black hair to my littlest inherited toenail, I breathe in this animosity.
I feel the tears trickle down my cheekbones, right past my chin, along the lines of my neck. And I try to wipe them away, smearing them even further upon my chest.
My lungs exhale short puffs of carbon and then quickly inhale oxygen. This only makes it easier to lose my breath. And it only makes it that much easier to become panicked.
Once the hysteria sets in, I start to remember all the times you have said you're sorry. Every moment you've told me you needed to mature. Each occasion you have convinced me that you had changed. And how I always fell for it, was manipulated into your corrupt scheme. How I was always deceived into believing you.
This is what you do to me. This is what you have caused. Every single time. I have just become a lesser version of myself. All the while you're out drinking 'till the bottle is no longer full, smoking, and fucking random girls.
If you could see me now, could you even bare to watch? Or are you too distant to even try?
Are you happy now?

2009-04-14T19:18:00.002-05:00

Here, my thoughts are scattered, a mess of memories spilling over the rims of my mind. Amongst them, I can point out very specific moments.
The first night we were together, cold and scared, holding your clammy hand, while you gently lead me through a darkened tunnel.
The time when you, my best friend, and I danced and sang to 'Timberwolves in New Jersey' as the rain began to fall hard, damp, and rapid.
Or that instance when we sat at the picnic table at the park with our hands clasped together, listening to a lonley song. I was so happy to be with you.
Then come the recollections of a different someone.
Like my first time. My heart was so afraid of the consequence, but so ready to be yours. Our tangled bodies, moving about your unkempt bed. Our mouths, trying to keep quiet. My loss came with lots of pain and a large red stain.
Do you remember the time when you were really sick? How I stayed at your house most of day, trying to make you feel better? I bathed you and made you eat. Do you remember that day? I do. That day I knew that I was in love with you.
Six months have gone and past leaving a hole in my heart.
I've changed so much. And I regret some things and I have not yet forgiven myself, but I'm on my way... time to loosen my grip on this pain, time to let go.

Hey, I overthink things too.

2009-03-19T23:22:00.000-05:00

I thought I could go a night without any contact with you, but nope, that's not the case. I guess I just like knowing that you exist, truly exist, and want to talk to me just as much as I want to talk to you. So I text you again tonight hoping I'm not bothering you, which I find out I'm not, but still think I am.
And the second you stop replying, I second-guess myself, wishing I hadn't done it. Then through that long ten minutes, you text me back. I somehow express how nervous I am. You reply with a 'me too'. We make plans. We decide that the dam is probably our best bet... a nice place to get to know each other again. Then we could grab something to eat. Just before we say 'sleep well' and part ways into the night, you make a semi-promise that you'll talk to me tomorrow at around five-ish.
Now I'm feeling really silly because all my overanalyzing and overthinking gets me nowhere. It just makes me feel really insecure in my skin.
This isn't normal. I mean, this isn't the normal me. I usually have no trouble talking to boys or anyone for that matter.
But you, you've inspired me. Ever since that day at the park with the graffitied purple dinosaur, when the weather was just right. Ever since the first day I saw you, with your cool hat fixated atop your golden hair. You with your dark eyes staring back at me.
Please tell me this isn't a loss. Please tell me that this isn't just one of those occasions where I silently tell myself that it was too good to be true.

2009-02-26T22:42:00.000-06:00

I love you
I have deep feelings for you
I care about you
And I appreciate every lovely moment you’ve ever given me
But I’m just not feeling it anymore
I’ve put myself in a situation where I feel uncomfortable
Completely negative
All I feel is this anger towards you
All I want is to be happy
Partly, with you
But I can’t do this
Not again
And it’s so hard to let you go
My eyes well up with tears and
Spill over my bottom lashes
I feel like I’ve lost something precious
Like I’m never going to find it again
Maybe someday this will be different
Maybe that day I won’t have to try so hard
I could possibly be with you
And we could be happy and it could be easy
But for now
I’m letting you go and letting me, my well-being
conquer this heartache
I’m sorry it had to be this way
And I wish we could go back
But we can’t
And it hurts so much

2009-02-04T08:17:00.000-06:00

There is a war going on outside my window. This conflict is between the infidels and those who believe.
Those who walk without consequence, the atheists, wearing ragged clothes ---- torn at the seams. Their faces and palms dirty with grime. They carry muskets and swords. Others have automatic firearms and advanced nuclear technology. They are able to fight within this physical realm.
But what are these? Just weapons aimed to damage the limbs and hault the beating heart? Only material possessions.
And the believers? They too are worn with filth. However, they don't hold any sorts of rifles or knives. All they have is their faith in God. They sing songs of worship and preach aloud memorized verses written in the Holy book. All the while praying. They battle this out with spiritual power.
And of course they worry. They are afraid that their loved ones will never see them again. They fear they will die a painfully slow death.
But they continue forward, looking the enemy straight in the eye, concentrated hyms pouring out their mouths, tangled prayers revolving in their heads, and keeping God in their hearts.

2009-01-18T00:22:00.001-06:00

Sometimes I wish I had enough courage to tell you my secrets.
Then I wouldn't have to let them consume me.
That way you'd finally know who I truly am.

2009-01-15T21:36:00.002-06:00

So here we are clutching at our receivers like a child clutches to his mother's side, persistent, begging her
'Please, please, don't take me to school. I want to stay home with you, Mommy. I want to fingerpaint and make clay turtles with you. Please, Mommy.'
Just as you cling to me. With your pleading eyes and your possessive touch, I cower away not wanting to be held.
What is that you want from me, child? I am not another toy for your collection. I am not your play thing.
I am human: I can get easily lost; the names of streets aren't important to me. I misspell words. I sing terribly while I'm riding around in the car. My eyes twitch when I become stressed. As hard as I try my teeth never seem to turn white. I have a problem with plucking the hairs on my body. And I overanalyze everything.
So why even try? Why keep trying to make me yours?
'Well, that's simple, darling...
I love you.'
Because you love me, because you can't see yourself living a day without me. You don't mean to stick to me like glue. You just don't want to see me go.

started at 9:02pm

2008-12-18T23:08:00.000-06:00

He comes to visit me every morning while the sun begins to flood the darkened sky.
He's my friend, my companion, my penpal, my long-lost lover, my muse.
His body is a bright sunshine with little specs of white peaking through, like he's holding some sort of secret.
Hello again, have you come to finally let me in? Are you ready to open your tiny beak and expose your every concealed thought?
I walk towards my window, open its latchings, and he flies to my easel. He tells me what he believes, what he's become, what he needs. Then he hops from my mount to the top of my head where he leans down and whispers faintly in my ear, 'I love you.'
How long have you held that inside you, little one?
'Come and stay with me. You can fly around my house all you want; I will go to the local store and find the best seeds in town.' I say.
'As much as I love you, I can't live here.' he replies.
'Why not?' I ask.
'Because I am a wild, untamed animal. I need to fend for myself, spread my wings. Let me go, let me find out what's out there. I don't care if I become wounded or die... I will keep you in my thoughts, my prayers. I will always love you. So let me go.'

2008-11-03T21:46:00.002-06:00

I have so many conflicting thoughts right now. Like someone has taken my trust, my gladiator, and placed it into an arena with nine hungry tigers. My emotions have also made a turn for the worst. They feel as though they're on a roller coaster with no means of stopping. As my heart races, I begin to feel the pull of the carts, constantly being jolted by the awkward turns and sudden swerving into upside down loops.
How can I stop this madness? Should I continue to fight this long, treacherous battle or just throw my sword to the dirt ground? Just forfeit? Is it even possible to put a break on this cart? Can I really just stop this turbulent ride?
No, I can't. This has become a part of me now. I can't just give up without consequence. I will have to keep my shield held high above my face while these carnivores lash out at me. I will have to continue traveling quickly along these railed constructions of dizziness. If I don't, I shall be shunned from the people, feeling their shame cascade on me as they see my drawn white flag sway from my hand. Otherwise I shall be thrown off the ride, only leaving me to fall to my peril. Either way, I will fail. And what use is failing?

2008-10-28T18:59:00.000-05:00

You're off in another state,
a state that coincides with our first president.
You're probably sharing hugs with relatives,
flashing that addictive smile,
and tasting their delectable creations.
Meanwhile, I'm stuck here.
I'm trying to find things to do,
activities that keep me occupied,
but I still dream of you.
I pull out my sister's pastels and draw... what?
Nothing really.
I take photographs that don't mean anything.
They don't mean as much as you.

2008-10-03T22:29:00.003-05:00

You can put your hand in mine and I can enjoy every minute of it.
I can continue to open up, show you who I really am and you can accept it.
You can keep looking at me with longing and I can do the same.
But I cannot wait forever while you try to figure out what you want.
You cannot just sit in your room filled with dolphins and dragons while I feel more and more for you.
You either do or you don't.
Whether you make this decision or choose to ignore it, I will be okay.
I will be okay.

"The longer you hesitate, the less I'm willing to wait."

2008-09-28T22:28:00.001-05:00

I don't know what it is about you. Maybe it's the way you point out what I already know. Or the fact that I know I can do better.
It could be the color of your eyes, a bright yet pale blue. How they always seem to see through me. It could possibly be the wholeness I feel when we intertwine our hands together. Or that magical smile you flash when you find something amusing.
With you I'm not afraid to open up, put myself into a vulnerable state. Yet, I keep my guard up. What you will never understand... this has all happened before. Maybe not with you, but with someone just as important. I've given my all, but it wasn't ever enough for that someone.
Don't you see? I'm so scared. I suppose it isn't easy for you either. Afterall you've never been with anyone. It takes work, boy.
And I'm so willing to improve our relationship, strengthen the ties we've already weaved into a knot. I'm so eager to love again. So can't you just look past my flaws? Can't you see that I'm only human and that I make mistakes? Can't you just give us a try?

2008-09-20T00:53:00.001-05:00

Here I am, pressing tiny squares, trying to convey something.

I no longer wish to bring my visions into the world. My sketchbook doesn't have any more meaning. All the doodles scattered amongst my schoolwork are only of faceless people, individuals without names. There isn't a single message within my penciled efforts.
When I look across the room, my eyes fixate on the last piece of my creativity abandoned and undone. My paints have been untouched for months, just left rotting in filth; dust completely settled along the corners of my easel. The only familiarity: photos of role models placed neatly upon its surface.
The books I once cherished have somehow become out of reach. They sit in their spots, mocking me with their beauty. The words, they float from their pages and whisper to me, but in a sinister tone. These words are only meant to hurt me.
And even with all this, this loss of connection to oneself, I still catch myself muttering elaborate sentences. My mind continues to form symbolic tales. Perhaps I haven't lost myself? Maybe I have just begun to find myself? For a second time?

2008-08-06T23:37:00.005-05:00

This is what you call a best friend.
Someone to holds hands with in public, no matter what place or who's watching.
A person to make stupid jokes with and then laugh hysterically at.
Somebody who will stay up all night, consuming infinite amounts of caffeine, while you both watch Heath Ledger movies.
A friend to open up to, be there when you cry, and never judge you.
Someone who, with just one smile or a few words, can make you feel better.
An individual that understands you when speaking gibberish.
Somebody who you feel completely comfortable with.
A soul who, when absent, is missed.

I'm sorry, but you could never compare.

2008-07-29T05:19:00.000-05:00

It's been almost two months since I'd seen your face. That face, the face that looked at me with such sorriness and concern. My eyes were swollen from crying and tears were still falling. You pulled me to the side and spoke a sincere apology.
It's been almost two months since school let out and I still remember the way you'd say 'Hey, how are you?'. So quickly, without actually caring. But how could you say that so easily this time? After knowing that I care so much for you?

2008-07-27T21:49:00.001-05:00

My father is laying on the couch in the porch, tired from his trip up north. My sister is probably on our desktop computer while my mother is cleaning the kitchen. I sit here in my room littered with music magazines, water bottles, and half-worn clothes. By my side is my cell phone, the same phone you called constantly, in hopes of me answering. The same piece of shit that I ignored because of my own fear. And I remember the first time I picked up and you kept telling me how much you appreciated us communicating. And the time when you told me you loved me. Or how I cried and you told me that everything was going to be okay. In those moments I felt like we were connected.

I wish I felt that now.

2008-07-20T02:26:00.000-05:00

With my stomach full of a late night meal and my mind still spinning, I realize that you've captured something horrible, relentless, and unkind from me. Something too ugly to look at. And you've replaced it with something new, more alive than ever. While we talk, with every exchange, I feel that something begin to sing. And it sings the most beautiful song, but I couldn't tell you what it is. I just know that it is powerful and yearning for love.

2008-07-14T23:12:00.000-05:00

You answer the phone with your tiny, delicate voice. As you speak, I begin to cry and I can't even pinpoint its cause. Maybe it's the incredible amount of discomfort I feel on my arms and chest; the red markings left by the sun. How the skin there itches, but each time I scratch, I hurt. Or maybe it's the thought of us being together only in fields surrounded by oceans, only in our minds. The idea of us being apart everyday, but still losing ourselves in each other once we hear our voices over the receiver.
How funny is it that you're the boy and I'm the girl, yet I dream to hold you in my arms? Like you, the boy, are so fragile, that I should hold you, make sure that you don't break. How strange is it to want someone you've never before met? Let alone, seen in person?

"I know that you are searching for something, but you don't know what it is."
"I think I'm getting closer."

2008-06-23T23:00:00.002-05:00

Dear Samuel,

I'm waiting for a reply from a good friend of mine. She knows of this sadness, but not the reasons why. And I'll tell her about you and she can try to comfort me, but she isn't in my position. I could explain that you've been there since the beginning, that you were the first person I met. And I'd tell her about the time I asked you for advice about a certain someone and how you immediately started fuming. How I feel that you're always trying to protect me, keep me safe from harm. Or that moment when you held my gaze and I saw this emotion in your eyes, like you really cared. She can try to relate, but she will never know what or who I'm losing once you've left. And while I wait for this discomfort to disappear, I'll wrap myself in a cocoon of blankets and let my tears sink into my floral pillow. My sniffles will press on and I'll keep hoping you'll stay.

It's funny to think that you feel indifference towards me, when all I ever felt was love for you.

2008-05-20T21:25:00.000-05:00

Hello, darkness. You've been hiding yourself from me for quite some time. I have missed your presence. Not to say that I haven't appreciated your absence; I've been smiling more and keeping my head up without you. My thoughts have become more optimistic and less bothersome. Where have you been hiding? Inside me? What have you been up to? Hibernating deep within my soul? I feel that you have been waiting for the sun to rise so you could emerge with your black shade. You are already spreading your dreariness across my clear skies, weeding your way through my open fields, and swimming in my beautiful ocean. You push my lovely trees and strike your lightning upon my soiled ground. You're creating a storm. And although this hurts, I know this could end at any given moment. The harsh wind will slow and change back to its natural state: a gentle breeze. The seeds will grow into multicolored flowers and hummingbirds will begin to drink their sweet nectar. Furry-tailed animals will dance and bask in their now newly lit home. But with all of this happiness, I know you still lurk within me. I know you shall return, stronger and more damaging than ever.

2008-04-20T22:00:00.000-05:00

There's this horrible churning feeling in my stomach. I can't tell if it's from being afraid of what's to come or if I am actually falling for this boy.
I mean, he's beautiful. Brilliant blue/green eyes, lengthy hair. And his smile is to die for. Every time he smiles, I feel this enormous burst of happiness erupt from my heart.
There was once a boy with in which I gave my heart to and he ended up shattering it. Do I really want that again? No. But would this new boy do the same? I don't know. And that scares me.
But if I do end up happy and in love, what's there to lose? I think I'm going to give it a chance. I think I'm going to let go of my insecurities. I think I'm going to kiss him and let him know he's enough.

2008-04-02T21:43:00.000-05:00

You can sit at the edge of these planked boards while the sun beats down upon your scalp with heated hands. You can let the hook sink into the depths of these clear waters, but never feel that forceful tug. You can lure unsuspecting victims with your dazzling, colorful weapons, but never find the perfect catch. The hours can slip by, but you still cannot reel in your desired prize. You're wanting something more than just a meal, you're looking for a sustainable feast. Something that will keep you full for days. Maybe you're not looking in the right place, maybe you should search in a completely different territory. Maybe the bait isn't the right type, you should be using that new type of gear you saw at the store. Or maybe you don't know what you're looking for. You don't know what it is you want. All you know is that you want it. Whatever it is.

2008-03-23T02:16:00.000-05:00

Between the erotic visions and wishful thinking, I can feel you undressing me with your imagination. You start to unclasp my bra, unbuckle my jeans, and yank at my socks. You want me.
But in my nakedness there is no comfort. I want to cover up my tiny breasts, place my hands over my womanly curves. Shield myself from your eyes, for I am ugly and imperfect.
But I can't, there is nowhere to hide. The result: me being completely capable of destroying the connection we have; ruining the one thing worth my time. And in return, you end up angry with me. This is exactly what I deserve. This is what I do every time. This repetitive action will only continue to worsen... so why even attempt to try?

2008-03-16T13:20:00.000-05:00

It would be so easy to pull away from your embrace, your gentle arms, but so hard to let go. I could continue to hide myself, like I do within the walls of our school, hug other boys, permit them to wrap their arms around my waist, feel some sort of gratification when you look my way. I could kiss numbers of faceless, beautiful girls, but still feel this aching; question what I want, what I need.
Or I could let you in on the secrets that I’ve held for so long. Tell you my fears.
But how could I do that? When regret still captivates you? When you’re still bound by the ropes you’ve tied?

2008-03-01T22:01:00.000-06:00

The covers that lay upon my folded legs are the same covers that you both would crawl into, bury your heads under, and inhale. One blonde, the other brown, bobbing up from the surface, letting me know that my bed's aroma was fantastic. Just two silly girls keeping warm between the mess of blankets, telling perverted jokes while bursting out with laughter.
The cold is the same as the fresh air we pulled ourselves into, feeling the winter seethe through our very little clothing.
And the time we went bowling. Us, rolling heavy multi-colored spheres down arrowed paths, eventually colliding with white pear-shaped figures.
Best friends, twins, you'd say.
Meanwhile, I enjoying the company of those I love, unaware that the ending was so near. That all of this would be destroyed in the matter of a ticking clock.
Lost in confusion and angry whispers, you'd decide to separate yourselves from each other. Sever the ties of friendship.
Only to find out, when you're older, that you lost a great friend.

2008-01-26T21:57:00.000-06:00

Beneath your clammy, naked feet are pebbles scattered across the pavement. Between your inconsistent breathing and fast-paced movements lies a space stripped bare of thoughts, substituted by emptiness. While you race through the rooted trees, the sky above your head twinkles with twenty billion stars. The adrenaline in your veins feels like electrical power. This current surges to your brain where all you hear is the emotional screams of your insides echoing. Your skull reverberates within itself. The pressure building underneath your heart is about to burst. Then your view stretches to the green scenery that descends down to the forest. The feet you know so very well have suddenly become amputated, completely separate from your body. You no longer feel the dewy grass or feel the breeze combing through your hair. All you feel is the aching in your chest. All you hear is the screaming in your head increasing in volume. Eventually, your lungs begin to slow down and your toes touch hard concrete. The speed you’ve accelerated to has ceased dramatically. You place your palms on the edge of your hips and inhale deeply. The drag of oxygen your lungs has received releases all your negative energy. You are done with running, done with this pain. For now.

2008-01-08T23:00:00.000-06:00

As I sit here in my comfortable bedding, I listen to a deep, beautiful voice that overpowers the piano playing. I close my eyes and my mind dares itself to think of you. Envision the thoughtful gaze you gave the room, analyzing its dynamics. And that goofy smile you'd flash when you cracked a joke. How the blue of your eyes revealed so much more than what you'd say. I daydream of the tiny physique I longed to embrace. And even with eyes wide open, I remember.
While I imagine your face, I begin to cry. My breathing changes, as though my lungs refuse oxygen, denies the fact that it needs it. Then my throat becomes sore, closes itself up.
It's like you stole a part of me. Something so whole you'd think it'd burst. You took it, wrapped it in a little box, stuck it in your suitcase and left to your bigger, much better city. Now that part of me is empty, only space waiting to be filled. Occupied by what? I do not know. Maybe a crumpled up piece of paper. Written on it the most beautiful song. Possibly a tin can. Although solid, still very hollow. Besides, it will never beat. It will never beat for you.

2007-12-08T22:45:00.000-06:00

12.06.07
I really wasn't expecting you to arrive so soon. When I turn to face you, I can't help but feel the embarrassment rise in my cheeks. I hope your eyes avert from my red features and onto the artwork I've created in the past. There it sits, exposed to your presence, waiting for you to pick it up and examine it, critique it. But instead you stare with a strange look in your eyes. I quickly pull out my sketchbook so you can get some ideas from its contents. Immediately, you scowl like you have no concept as to how you got into this mess. You can't draw, how can you even paint?!
Beside you, I decide to switch places to another room, grabbing my possessions and you follow. We begin to paint on blank canvases, all the while, talking about our hobbies, our lives. Somehow I start to think of a million questions I could ask you. And as you color just before the lines you've drawn, I wonder if these questions will swerve around you and whisper in your ear.
You then start a sentence, but cut it off. What is it that you'd like to say? Is it something you've been thinking of for a while now? Every time I ask, you refuse to tell me.
You crack jokes and I laugh back 'cause I so badly want you to accept me. I want you to know who I am and like it.
And with every moment we meet each other's eyes, I question what you see. Someone completely unique or someone you'd wish you'd never met?

2007-09-16T19:36:00.001-05:00

I hadn't seen you in a long time. In your presence, I felt completely bare, unable to speak. Your hair has been cut shorter than the last time I saw you; your ears stick outwards. My impression of you has changed greatly. Your clothing has become subdued. Green and white horizontal stripes litter your arms and torso. I was told you will soon be receiving a tattoo on your right arm. That's so like the Morgan I used to know. And that smile, how it will never disappear from my memory. However, the blue of your eyes has faded into a pale hue. They're no longer as bright. Maybe she has changed you. After all, girls are supposed to do that. But this changes' consumption has taken over, with hardly any of the real you left. Your embrace, I wish it was as strong as it once was.
My insides yell "I MISS YOU!" because I do. I miss our go-cart rides and listening to metal atop your messy bed. I remember those awkward silences.Yet the other part of me wishes you were with that beautiful girl just so she could be happier, more jubilant. And still both sides of me plead for you to see her, she's right there, giving you all she is, fighting her instincts, dreaming for you, but you just walk right over her. She's not a doormat and she won't wait for you forever.

This is different.

2007-09-08T06:29:00.000-05:00

As I stare at the screen my eyes sink into my skull. The green of the hearts reminds me of your own eyes. Unlike mine, yours are hidden behind strands of hair and are not subjected to shock and fright. Now I sit and wonder if my questions will forever be unanswered or if you'll come around with the same openness you once presented to me. What have you lost? What is missing? Is it the feeling of security or the love you once cherished so greatly? I know that you reading this will not only result in you turning into yourself, but also in your being upset with me. I don't know why I'm drawn to you so much, but every smile and laugh we endured has lingered in my mind. I will not let go. Not just yet.

2007-08-19T08:04:00.000-05:00

Our days are always half and half. Every second, every year we are torn between life and death. We could slip from the pages of history at any moment. But what if we thought of life as an awakening, not a timeline of experiences? That way we could all live with a new outlook, a new beginning. Each time the sun rises and descends we are lifted of our actions and mistakes. And in place of those we create a new path, one with numerous imperfections, but with the most life. When we laugh, we burn the loss we've endured. When we cry, we dream something new. When we smile, we display our colors and celebrate what we are. Everything will change. Every individual will believe, love, and bring hope to another.

I write these words in hopes to help her. To let her know that life is worth living. It's no longer about time, it's about how we go about it.

2007-07-12T17:30:00.002-05:00

His hands are so large and firm. Almost masquerading his lengthy nails. Fingering the strings of a lust-like instrument. This tune swims into the air while it's beauty fluctuates through our ears. His pink locks fall forward upon his delicate features. Eyes of an aqua gaze. My soul begins to combust with laughter. Then suddenly I trip into a dance of awkward sorts; leaving him with a smile. I desire your skeletal arms to hold closely. I want to feel your anguish. I wish for your fire to consume me, burn my flesh to the bones of my swollen frame.

2007-06-30T21:59:00.000-05:00

With every action, there's a mistake.
Filled with imperfection, but not always intent.
She knows the truth behind you.
She knows that you suffer.
Secretly, we all know.
It's just difficult to focus on the hurt when we so badly want to deny it.
She's sorry she hurt you.
She's sorry she reminded you.
You have a sunburn on your back.
Wait, no, a bruise.
Why has it been inflicted?
You haven't done any wrong.
You are just a child wishing for a painless night.

2007-06-29T22:58:00.001-05:00

What it's like to ache is knowing that you love me.
We lay on your floor listening to indescribable instrumentals.
You lay close beside me, but not close enough to come in contact with my heart. I told you everything I cherished about her words and characters. From the darkness of Lex to the power of Witch Baby.
I began to float with a persistant balance. Somehow you struck me and I, all at once, looked down and fell into the ocean, ruining the current. For a moment, I struggled to swim. I lost my butterfly movements. The surface was unreachable.
Somehow you told me to breathe. But I wouldn't. I drowned to an unseen bottom. All the while, I was thinking 'You have no need to apologize.'
I'm sorry.
The reason of my doing is still unknown.
The salt stings my cheeks and my breath is not gasping for air.
What is it to ache knowing I love you?

2007-06-08T12:43:00.000-05:00

Diverse crowds of people hustle through stations.
Individuals, dressed to impress, haul luggage while swiftly finding a seat.
Briefcases held tightly as they sway with the subway.
Others hold onto railings to keep balance.
Chairs are polluted by fingerprints left unnoticed by passengers.
I, a homesick suburban girl, am puzzled by the speed and restlessness of this city.
I, nothing more than a stranger's glance portrayed in one's eye, try to capture every moment.

2007-05-20T01:12:00.000-05:00

I create this huge river between you and I. I build a magnificent barrier. I bruise myself to make you see that I'm not worthy, I'm not good enough. I'm not at all right. I do know why I do it. I just want to prove to you that I'm there, but not worth it.
I'm not worth any of it.

2007-03-01T17:06:00.000-06:00

And I feel like we're scratching at something.
It's hidden deep beneath the comforts of our computer screens. Tucked between the back and forth messages we send to one another. Underneath my frightened frustrations to think and type without sounding like a complete fool. Stretched across our dead keyboards. In the presence of our limp wrist movements. Amongst the imagery of your captivating smile.
And with a gleeful gaze and a soft touch, it's hard to pin-point just why it has come to greet us.

2007-02-23T12:11:00.000-06:00

You're like a gut-wrenching over-indulgence of food. I want to swallow it whole and puke up everything that's wrong.
You're like a type-writer typing everything that's of distaste. I want to throw it out the God damned window.
You're like the fucking arm that I might as well saw off. Those scars so ugly... that I can't look or I'll feel completely disgusted by myself.
I want to deny you. Leave you. Banish you. Dismiss you.
But I can't because then I'd feel empty.

2007-01-18T22:30:00.000-06:00

From the top, I only see tiny dots. The distance from the ground up is greatly reflected from my gaze.
Once the ride slows down and reaches the bottom I can see people with cotton-candy, balloons, popcorn; children: stuffed toys held in their grips, walking, laughing, looking attentively at everything with excitement; true glee.
They're just wasting time.
I try to hold back my doubt, my numbness.
Soon the ground and the crowds disperse from my vision. The gravitational pull of the machine lifts me high into the sky.
I don't care how many times I pay the tolled fee... I'm going to reach the stars tonight. I'm going to wait 'till the sun rises up above that far away hill announcing the dawn of a brand new day.
This ferris-wheel is my only escape right now.
That same image of your smiling face is forever lingering in my mind. All I want is to not feel so completely alone.
And now that your presence is not near, now that my arms are not wrapped 'round your porcelain shoulders, all I have is me.
Not with you. Not you there to help me make it through. On my own.

2006-12-12T11:57:00.000-06:00

A vision releases from my memory bank.
Blurs of figures slowly come into focus.
It's the crowded cafeteria, filled with my friends.
With her back faced towards me, my gaze reinstates upon you.
I look to find you have lifted her precious hand to your lips like the prince you once were in my eyes.
She is your princess, your blessed beauty from beyond.
I swivel around in my seat, not daring to glance back.
My eyes begin to well with salty tears.
You once did the same thing to me.
"What?! Am I a princess?" I whisper.
"Of course, you are." I hear your memory reply.
Returning to reality, water streams down the apples of my cheeks, painting my face with black stains.
Mascara and eyeliner, it's all so fimiliar.
Like the tears I have cried before.
That day you placed my heart in contempt.
You, the bailiff, locking it in a prison.
It's been held in it's cage for so long, praying one day to be opened.
Now it is to be freed. In this moment, my heart shall be emancipated from your strangling grasp.
You will no longer beat my heart 'till it's face-down to the ground.
You will no longer deliver this prisoner any more filth.
I've found the key and now it's time to be free.
It's time for me to let go of you, Eric.

2006-08-25T13:11:00.000-05:00

Brown curls tousle from his head to his shoulders creating a wonderful frame around his dimly lit face. He lights a tiny cigarette between his fingers. The little flame heats his loving touch feverishly. He inhales deeply then exhales an apparition of smoke floating into the atmosphere before vanishing. Tattoos of bare-breasted women showcase themselves along his forearms. A snake slithers around his left wrist.
Tired he collapses to the grass moist with dew. He looks to the sky and begins to trace his fingertips along the stars. He points out the constellations. The moon shines brilliantly upon his spiraling strands. Pale eyes gaze up at the beauty that is night.
Another puff of smoke from his soft lips rises. I look to him and he smiles back at me - all toothy and joyous. I can see every imperfection on his face. His freckled cheeks, bushy brows, chiseled chin, the scar placed just neatly above his left eye, a few zits here and there, and the stubble slightly hidden above his lips. Oh, those lips that parade across my body when we make love. Miniture kisses that graze my cheek bones. The lips that leave stains of passion on my neck.

2006-07-08T19:33:00.000-05:00

She was poison, rain, and everything in between.
Her golden, wavy strands pushed back exposing her eyes. Eyes of glass, eyes of storm, eyes of water, with lengthly lashes and ebony pupils. How hypnotic.
She was pale, made of porcelain... like crystals in the winter. Smooth, soft, like a dove's down feathers. Her complexion was perfectly clear. She seemed to shimmer as I approached her.
Her petulant lips stained rose-petal pink.
I longed to kiss her. Caress her.
To be near her.
To be her.
Maybe with just one kiss I could capture every fairy-like beauty she had to offer.

2006-06-08T16:41:00.000-05:00

I can see people below my unit.
Discussions on cellphones fade while doctors and nurses exchange cigarettes.
Overweight women travel across oil-streaked pavements with handbags at their sides.
I'm in the ghetto.
Here, I feel poverty, gang-related crimes, and extreme lonliness emerge upon my soul.
Signs stating 'Detour' and 'Park Ave.' point to a new neighborhood.
Motorized vehicles roam about the streets. Most are unexpensive, non-wealthy machinery.
On the sidewalk two young men in baggy clothing converse with one another as unknown handshakes are passed.
Buses deliver handicapped patients into the hospital.
They are below me, but they feel so above me.

2006-06-01T16:07:00.000-05:00

The time I spend with you was of waste.
I thought 'Venus, you blessed myself with the radiance and kindness of a knight.'
Imagine the segregation of our hearts - bleeding.
Your imperfect smile forever taunting me across the room.
You're so aimless.
Our souls not neutral.
My pain excercised itself about your neck.
I anticipated viewing you everyday.
Like the time you stuck your permiscuous palm up my blouse, beneath my bra clamp in public.
I only released energy and love for you.
Now I wither in a hole cut under different artifacts.
A razor, a knife, scissors.
This is my life.
I'm apathetically unstable.
You were my conception, my swan, my prince, a past inscribbed on salvaging parchments.
I long to be emancipated from your sinister blue irises.
You were the subject of my refined smock.
'Reinstate my dependency upon you!' I shout.
If only I had done this... I should have... I could've.. I needn't have cause...
Thoughts swirling in manifested vat of limitless plights.
Strangling my voice, constricting my vocal cords.
I will avenge him.
Let his beautiful lady paint a mess of betrayal, cheeseparing, truth.
Permit catastrophies to bruise her very soul.
My rhapsody is to deny propensity.

2006-05-03T18:12:00.000-05:00

I tried to steer clear of the molding, rotting couch, but unfortunately couldn't.
I left my Sprite bottle on the floor, not knowing what kind of filth escaped to it's being.
Stuffy noses were heard about the crowded room.
Emotions crept upon me and I began to cry.
Mascara ran amongst my cheeks as tears formed streams of undenying hate.
I come home to a shrimp-and-stained filled shelter.
I do not seem to have any ambition to do anything.
My homework is piling up by the dozens.
My unwordly knowledge has seemed to slip from my grasp.
Taste is only of a citrus soda product.
Stenches neuseate my nostrils.
Food has only become of what an option of my catastrophes.
Home-life has turned into a frenzy of televised, media-influtional, components.
My neurological pathways have exchanged into cluttered messes.
Boys will be boys.
Maybe hope hasn't expired just yet.
Maybe faith involves holding on to those blessed memories.

2006-04-28T15:19:00.000-05:00

Words slip off your tongue.
Your selfishness pangs me with a sense of regret.
Guilt consumes my soul.
You say you care.
But you're never near enough to display that.
Your incomprehensable heartlessness kills me.
A spear of despair stabs my back.
You aren't who I thought you were.
Your lies pile up and create a barrier between us.
My shield won't bend faithlessly.
My heart won't be broken.
Hope is all I have.
You punish yourself for breaking up our unity.
I punish myself worse.

2006-04-27T13:44:00.000-05:00

Thoughts delay amongst neurological highways.
Miniture recollections condense into unending silence.
Preying upon every phrase of negativity.
This mind has been traumatized increasingly.
Infinite insults, unhealthy suicidal tendencies, pessimistic outlooks scope out, intwining about the brain.
Smiles darken while stares become menacing glares.
Faith has reached it's expiration date.
Hope has registered for a depressing substitute.
Scars repeat routes across wrists.
Thiness has populated into a major fad.
Heroes have transformed to dust.
Children hide in corners unsanitary.
We indulge ourselves in a media-consumed society.
What is to become of us?
Are we to trade in all our dreams for a more desperate, masquerade of a conquest?

2006-04-21T15:20:00.000-05:00

Eyes of emerald.
Lengthly lashes.
Golden roots made of sunshine.
Teeth a slight yellow stain.
Wounds, bruises, scars absorbing his skin.
He rides his skateboard up and down ramps, on railings gaurding playgrounds.
He invites me to skate along the range of wonderous pathways.
Twists, turns, moves, and jumps entice him.
Cemented parking-lots hold challenge.
He shows no fear, no masquerade of self-doubt.
He's hoping and praying he'll make the motion swiftfully.
He pins it down confidently.
This brilliant, intriguing mind loves Cold, the band.
He also loves his passion... skateboarding.
Dreaming of the new tomorrow he strolls into his habitat.
He leaves me breathless, optimistic.

2006-04-17T19:10:00.000-05:00

He turned the numbered knob whiskfully.
When she asked for a hug, he squeezed her intensely and tightly.
Liquid formed in her eyes.
He was so near, yet so far away.
She strolled away feeling ashamed, lost, and rejected.
She glanced back and realized that he looked sorrowful.
Suddenly, she paced backwards then hugged him.
She trembled in the arms that once held her waist gracefully.
He sighed heavily.
Her heart began to beat quickly while her face was swamped in tears.
She could feel his warmth.
His touch was soft.
His stature was strong.
She told him 'I have to go.'
Then she walked away without reconsidering his reaction.
She weaved in and out of the crowded hallway.
Her clothing reeked of cheap cologne.
Even when erosion hits the surface of love, it never fades.

2006-04-07T19:23:00.000-05:00

A blue sky nestles above the earth.
Pale clouds popularize our atmosphere.
Far ahead, I imagine a happy setting.
Soil softens underneath my ratty, old converse.
Trees correspond with one another.
Wind wrestles rooftops.
Hair cascades in front of my face.
K. lingers for a bit.
I tumble down the hill.
Dandelions devour the green grass.
We admire the view of the field.

2006-04-06T20:29:00.000-05:00

Sirens sounding in the far off distance. Rain droplets covering the windows in mass quantities. Bandage at wrist. Clothing on back. Weak limbs falling from the skeletal trees. Chills filling the atmosphere. Shocks of light soaring across the sky. Vehicles parked in driveways. Homes laced in beauty. The beat of the parcipitation drumming with constance. Liquid forming in the drains. Electricity flickering. Power limited. Spans of wires disengaging. Sparks flying. States of motion slowly excessing. This is our beauty. Don't take this for granted. I've savored the moment through dance, rejoice, a smile, a twirl. This is hope written in the most complex context ever created. This is pure. In the wake, I feel thankful. The sky is crying happy tears.
They scream 'I am smothered in your aura, but I am proud to be in your presence.'
When I look to the heavens through a glass fragmented protector, I see the cosmos foundation.
Our posessions and luxuries are nothing.
Our smiles, laughs, tears, blood, hope, fear, faith, and the thousands of pores are our beauty. However, we do not cherish those glimpses of time. We endure so much suffering, conflict, infliction, and greed, that we become blind. How can we see again?
Share the dreams you have dreamt, spread the joy that you feel, smile once in a while, don't hesitate. Your difficulties are understandable. Your pain is immense, but you'll get through. Your exterior is strong and tough. You shall prevail.
We're alike in so many ways. Us, human beings, and the natural world. We pollute our own minds with media displayed. We nod, agree, and follow, for our own selfish reasons.
You are who you want to be, you are who ought to be.
We can live in the moment.
And we can try.
It's just a matter of living.

2006-03-26T20:17:00.001-06:00

Dear sufferage,

Take your sorrow and devaste in another location.
Her beauty is stumbling on your constant barrier.
Her self-loathing is enough to penetrate a soul.
With her vague indentity almost evaporated into the atmosphere, her heart is to be unsheltered.
She's completely entranced under a pressure so imense, so hyponitizing, that she cannot escape.
Angel, please, stage yourself upon her existence.
She deserves love.
Seperate the despair from this wonderful being.
My screaming prayer, may you answer.
Soon.

2006-03-22T19:12:00.000-06:00

Eyes filled with memorial execution.
Self-punishing addiction combined with betrayal.
Escapism inside walls of toxic substances.
Fumes rising to the surface without purpose.
Dependent on those of sick pleasure.
See that man?
Yes, the man whose indentity consists of a withdrawn, pessimistic energy arising from his figure; attempted dreadlocks scraggly hanging from his noggin; wrapped in a canary-yellow jacket splattered with dirt; the individual sitting in the post amongst the crowded room; the man residing inside himself; the one hiding his worn-out face of historical phrase; the odor-induced type; his plague of self-loathing producing friction between relatives; killing time by waiting for the doctor to call out his name? Yes, that exact man.
He suffers from poverty, mental-illness, and abusive relationships. He is lost in the unforgettable past. He craves for treatment. He strives for purity. He is a man of reality. This man poses as the most reflective man, but he pays his dues through negativity. He requires medication of a blessed sort. He can never find what he is looking for.
He is beautiful, but I do not idol him. From a distance, I motion a different angle.
I could capture his pain through markings unknown, but becoming what is, life shall be learned.

2006-03-05T21:34:00.000-06:00

When you hug her, I can feel the envy blazing off my face.
She's a restless sort of beauty.
I admire her from afar.
Once she touches you I feel jealousy creeping upon my spine, my fingers, the shadows I create, and the beating heart I carry.
Every pore aflame.
I cannot breathe within this still time.
I cannot hold that pressure for any longer.
I swim past the stream of people and pull myself past the current.
You shark, you demon.
You are beautiful, but you must stay away.
My envy shall kill me when I least expect it.

2006-03-05T08:39:00.000-06:00

We strolled along the massive pavement of the parking lot until we found our own sanctuary.
You held me close. Your shallow breathing was pleasing to hear. You took off your white t-shirt. Your torso is thin. Your shoulder structure is breath-taking. Your collar bones are so eloquently placed. We kissed under the stars. You and I sat on the cold concrete. Our heat waves bounced off one another in a soothing manner. You are such a beautiful being.
I could trace your very essence with a pencil or paintbrush. My soul was exposed last night, not with pain, not with creativity, with expression and love.
I have two precise stains on my neck now. I must use cover-up to hide these.
We chased each others' beauty.
And I held back because I'm not ready, emotionally, mentally, or physically. I drew the line amongst the boundaries because I have dignity. I won't sacrifice my pride to satisfy our desires.
You respect and cherish me. I ratified my belief.
I whispered in your ear 'I love you.'
Because it's the truth.
You are my cascading blue.

2006-01-20T15:22:00.000-06:00

I used to think of myself as a goldfish, protected by the glass that surrounds me.
I used to think of myself as a goldfish because I was confused.
Now I think of myself as an ant, running from your fingertips.
Now I think of myself as an ant because I'm still confused.
And this time I'm neither.
You and I.
Me and you.
Us.
And people think I'm a bitch.
And a nice person.
Are you going to call me a slut, whore, hoe, or bitch?
No, you call me a girl.
And that's where I draw the line.
I think of myself, think about you, think about me and decide.
Me and you.
You and I.
We are one.
But we're two different people.

2005-12-10T11:14:00.001-06:00

We tossed and turned inside the movie theatre. You placed your head on my shoulder and frequently held my hand. You smelled like cologne. You held me tight, like you really meant it. I'd shake with nervousness and sit uncomfortably. It was worth it, though. The pain of a slight movement would make me tremble. My mind was set on overdrive. Your every move, I wanted to capture in a film. We weren't getting frisky (thank God.), but we were close. You were so hard to balance on my boney shoulder. I could feel your breath hit my arms and thighs. Your eyes were just as a bright as they are in the light. You'd sigh loudly, but I knew you loved the movie. I felt happy...about myself. You don't make me want to change myself.

Even though the movie was semi-stupid, I felt completely beautiful in your arms.

2005-12-03T20:03:00.000-06:00

I have your number folded eight times tightly in my hand. The folds unravel and your name appears. You told me you'd call and you did. I thought you'd never. Now I'm afraid. Picking up the phone means speaking to you with enlightment. Speaking means stuttering and feeling embarrassed. I could just dial it and drop the phone quickly. I could speak and twist cord around my neck afterwards or tell you I love you. This isn't true, love doesn't exist. My heart would beat frantically and pace from one side of my chest to the other. I want to know you don't find me the idiot I know I am. You make me feel confident, but after you asked me that fatal question, I don't know how to be...me. Never had a boyfriend so I don't know what to feel. Not love, not anything. When you hold me tightly I can feel every inch of me falling. But on the phone, I feel insecure.

What is wrong with me?

2005-11-28T19:54:00.000-06:00

You were bathed in the light coming from your open door. Your sister stood outside in the cold holding a ferret-like creature underneath her gray blouse. She stood next to me in her lime-green winter jacket. He stood next to me in his gold and blue football jersey. We stood beside the trailer, you call your third home. You were wearing your dorky beanie with a heartagram on it. Your jacket, worn and torn, a faded black in the filtered light. It smelled of cigarettes and animals. You hugged me for the third time and held my hand. You held it with the most tenderness. In that moment I felt more alive than ever. We had to leave.

2005-11-08T21:32:00.001-06:00

A head covered by shiny, black, and long strands.
Fingernails coated black on both hands.
Black and red arm-warmers laced in a tie.
Eyeliner etched along each eye.
Eyes a cosmic turquoise shade.
Searching for sketches beautifully made.
Baggy black clothes clinging to porcelain bones.
Every inch polluted by Jack Skelington clones.
Given a position in the so-called "gothic" clan.
Delicate skin heated by a slight tan.
Hugs: soft, seperate, and light.
Wanting the opposite: hard, together, and tight.

2005-02-17T16:32:00.000-06:00

While the razor sharp jagged pieces scrap across your throat, I hope you think of me. As the tiny specs of shattered glass rip apart your vocal-cords, I hope you think of me. During the brief moment of breath and the minimum time of life you have left, I hope you think of me. As the blood trickles down your arms, on your back, down your spine, I hope you think of me. When another rip of your voice-box releases crimson liquid and pain, I hope you think of me. When you're choking on the heart you broke into a million shattered pieces, I hope you think of me. With one final gasping, rasping, yelping breath you exhale, I hope you think of me. While I stand there yelling at your dead body, I hope you thought of me.

2005-01-20T18:07:00.000-06:00

She is not another trend.
She doesn't try to blend.
She's not blonde with blue eyes.
She's doesn't want to be another lie.
She doesn't want to be that stereotypical beauty.
She won't focus on the looks.
She'll be in the library reading books.
She doesn't need to fit in.
Or be pencil thin.
Because she's got that beauty within.

2005-01-04T18:18:00.000-06:00

In my past life, I was a celestial gaurdian of the stars. I wore purple beads around my neck and a rainbow toga. I also had my wings, but they weren't like they are now. They were made of spirits from the night sky. These spirits were just as colorful as my outfit, but with more knowledge. The spirits could tame the sky when it got too bright before dawn. And even though you may think this job was empty, you are very wrong. Being a moonlit gaurdian takes effort, especially when you're best friends are the treasures you must gaurd. Every mystified star must be treated with respect and decency. Even the fantasy trapped faeries had to help me keep them aligned. You see in my past life, you would do you best to respect on me and not label me. You wouldn't approach me with a load of tumbling black holes! And I would treat you just the same. Whether I am the gaurdian of the stars or the girl that wears too much black or the one you are back-facing, you will and shall treat me kindly and not like the next sucker that walks by, understand?

2005-01-03T16:36:00.000-06:00

We were dreaming too long.
Much too long, that my mother had to wake us up.
It was in the middle of the summer.
And it was loose with no balance.
But we made it work.
We said 'This is off key, but we can make it happen.'
So we did, we made it happen.
In the glow of June.
In the sundance of July.
Towards the happy ending of August.
We splashed and tumbled.
In the rocky bays of a pool.
We almost drowned, but we were alright.
You would dance like no one was watching.
Dance like the whole world was your masterpiece.
You picked up the brush and painted on your beauty.
That dance, that goofy, crazy, silly dance.
That I've always admired.
But then we lost it.
For school had begun.
Now things are tough.
But I'll say 'This is off key, but I can make it happen.'

2005-01-03T16:11:00.000-06:00

You think you may have lost, but you have really won.
You may feel betrayed from the mistrust.
You may think you were wrong to pick me as a friend.
But all you have done is felt.
You've fought so hard to keep this going.
I just wanted it to end.
You never did anything wrong.
You bled for your emotions.
You bled for yourself.
And I don't blame you.
The thought has never left my mind.
I've placed the scissors to my palm, on my skin.
You were there for me.
Now I'm here for you.
And if this is what it takes.
Then I'll be with you every step of the way.

2005-01-01T14:03:00.000-06:00

Your cluster of marks.
Your pain, the pain you etch into your skin.
Now you have the physical.
Now I have the emotional.
Don't you see?
What you do hurts me also.
Are you cursing yourself?
Punishment?
What do you do it for?
Is this some kind of joke? I ask myself.
Where did I go wrong? I question my soul.
Am I not in the right state of mind?

I could for you.
I could cut it out and make it better for only a few seconds.
But then I would be this gaping wound.
I could just cover it up with a band-aid.
Or add more to scratch, to bleed, to peal off the scab.
But then I wouldn't feel.
It wouldn't mean I could feel better.
This band-aid I hold in my hand.
It could help, but it won't solve.
It won't stop the scarring or the emotional state.
So what should I do?
Stop?
It's hard to stop, we know.
But I can't save you, friends.
You can only save yourselves.

2004-11-16T17:22:00.000-06:00

She'll put on her rain-coat, deepening down a winding road. Troubles follow her like a puppy in the dark. Forever haunted by the memories of pain and hate. Even candy-clouds, crooked tables, and imaginary friends can't satisfy her. Just as easily as she cries, the rain starts and mixes her tears. Sometimes while walking down this broken path filled with wonder and dismay, she slips into a puddle. An unconcious thunder shakes the Earth. Then an ear-piercing scream. Turns into the creature inside. And finally a deadly silence, a shivering cold. Then she's off down a different road filled with colorful trees, gorgeous, magnificent sceenaries. No more pain, hurt, or lies. Just one more day in paradise.

2004-10-20T16:59:00.000-05:00

Jon's fingertips touch the strings and there is a life in the room he brings.
Slowly starts playing the anthem of my stars that reach so far, ’cross to the ocean breeze, almost so cold you could freeze.
Brilliant whispers of lyrics, my hearts going into hysterics.
Casting a ray of light, shockingly bright
that shimmers upon his song like the rain that lasts so long.
Beautiful, remarkable, crystal blue eyes stare into the crowd.
All kinds of people screaming loud.
Sweat beams off his golden bronze hair and there on the back of his hand is writing stating "Do not despair."

2004-09-27T16:15:00.001-05:00

It's sickening how they make me hide locked tightly in my facade.
Never to break free.
They keep holding me back from being me.
See I've tried pretending, but my heart keeps beckoning.
Still I keep on following even when I feel of leading.
I could walk on, but then I'd be shunned.
I could kiss their shallowness good-bye so I could fly.
I could show them the beauty inside, but then I would be pushed aside.
They depict me, like they know me. I breathe in heavily
This is the last time I will fake it.
The last time I will take it.
They may laugh, they may taunt.
I'll sit and feel the crash and burn, but this is the greatest lesson I have learned.