smiling forever [these dusty dolls].

i have fallen past descriptions of places and things, and found a new feeling.

a nervous sort of humiliation,

but above a sense of relaxation

found only through my future's might.

for i am not a doll,

i grow and hate and spit.

i jump back and forth from cupboard to shelf,

put on my shoes all by myself.

making mistakes like it's my

job,

i yell and dance, whisper and sob.

frowning more than smiling,

laughing more than trying.

my cheeks aren't painted ruby red,

they are pale and porous instead.

for one is worse than the other,

a better good

misunderstood

by anyone who isn't me.

so take your pictures of the empty head,

then when it's old,

find it under your bed.

corner of your heart.

my red headed boy

we were passion

anger

fun and funny

dancers and losers

but time was against us

same with my soul

like with a little more

baby that's not enough

"i just need to kiss you one more time"

and my red headed boy

he was gone

surrounded by breakable bones, and edible skin.

a feeling that burns, a taught twist, you can feel it rising up in your lower chest and surfacing in your throat--only to dive back down again with a thought of fear at it's coming.

the worst part?

the only relief is the hope that eventually it will leave.

sunrise, sunset.

what are we but ribbons woven together for a time

knotted and frayed

torn and battered

changing colors

orange to green to red

never blue

that wouldn't be you

hidden gems are often a figment of the imagination.

the stares aren't always worth putting yourself out there,

wearing red,

smiling to myself,

knowing all the world can see.

because in the end, my curls look like those of the next girl, but she can dance and seem pretty.

worry is my expectation.

and so my brain becomes wrought with questions; sure to be unanswered for a lifetime.

human of the year.

hiding from you was the most ridiculous thought of my day

loving someone forever came second

humanity is nothing but feeling

the rest is loss or peace

serenity

a bore

a beautiful goddamn bore and i wish it was me

closing my eyes and picturing me singing my soul raw

until it hurt to hear me

to be me.

and i write for me

not to inspire

to understand

to think about what understand really means

because i've done a hell of a lot of thinking

and it gets you nowhere

no conclusions

and pain never gets old

you simply learn to live with it

lifting my chin

like lifting my eyes to the sky that i love

and the girl you confuse me with

dream girl

not me

cynical

harsh

and forgettable me

defining myself in struggle

not in peace

when i don't think

the world is healthier that way

with or without a bandage

a damn bandage over my stupid flawed eyes

on my stupid scarred face

on my stupid lost brain

i am anger tied together with a string

a string pulling me around

as i watch the trees go past

and the occasional wanderer who meets my doubting hurting eyes

and i wonder if they know.

the part that still thinks i can be something says yes

... cynical harsh forgettable me says close those goddamn eyes

laughing with.

who?

patches, hats, and pirates (how they rob us).

dust to a damaged eye

wishing away

trying not to cry

putting myself in a little girl's shoes

life can change in seconds

and love is never free

half the time its not enough

the the rest of life's a foolish dream

i did it all

put it away

but in the end

its not enough

and so it goes

sky blue on a hat

symbol of hopeless aspiration

if i had a cat

it would have died yesterday

psyche/psychic.

today was my day disruption rolled off my shoulders like a warm breeze a boy named ollie the word

skinny thrown my way coffee for cheap contagious ambition then calls a spot of black on my white

sunny day not again i knew this was coming its never about what you think until its in your

nostrils making you sneeze making your brain swim something gross like worn feet happened and

then there were two tears then there was me in my room pretending not to hear that the world

was knocking outside my door so take my hand take my whole heart too because i can't help

faling in love with you was in my head because somehow that makes life seem all too good when

we lose our favorites and sell the past for a price a cheap price and i am left in a bin headed to

our yesteryear of doubt

not a gerbil on a wheel.

like a cartwheel inside my head

circling circling

never stops

a briefcase of spiders.

left alone on the dance floor

my stomach tied up with a string, constantly pulling to where you are

knowing the imminent goodbye

learning you've been thinking too

telling me i can

holding me as i cry a silent tear or two that you may not have seen

that damn red hair

sitting on a beach

feeling that same pull

somewhere between yes and no

swimming out

finding it harder to swim back

because this is my future

and i don't know

there is no a, b, c

sure as hell no 1, 2, 3

just you

and maybe me

together?

or never.

your trip to far away (a place i've been before).

i am ever so aware of every knot untied

every goodnight left unsaid

goodbye

it is coming.

it's location is full of irony.

when i was younger, it was a place i dreamed of due to it's seclusion, and the intrigue that it triggered in my imaginative mind. enticing me, inviting me.

now, when i think of that lonesome path where the trees hide the ground (so the ground remains moist all day), i only think of being vulnerably alone, middle aged men, and tripping over creeping roots. my knees sinking into muck, no longer wishing to be by myself.

my secret garden, whose gate is closed.

i never read that book.

go go go.

potential

success

failure

love

and all this is is talking

when all i want is to go go go

stop stop stop it.

is it wrong to ask

why does that surprise me?

makes my mind go hopeful

my heart beat faster

my lips a little smiled

ready to ditch

you damn hypocrite

you can do better

story of my life

will that change?

a little smile

a little flip

a little thought

and i go crazy