Tuesday, August 31, 2010

life should happen starting now.

yeeeeeeeeah i can't sleep. i tried. my mind is going crazy reflecting and thinking about my last time for everything before my definition of everything changes. so change already... because i'm sick of waiting.


Monday, August 30, 2010

one, two, three, four, five, and six.

one more detour and you are done. two more nights and you are out. three more pairs of jeans that don't look quite right.

i move, you move. never will i admit it. dashingly i will avoid all fabrications of your mind, and breathing hard for the last time we shall fall fall fall back.

four people once judged me. five people once hurt me. and six?

six means nothing. just a number on a die that has no control and represents yet another one of my unreasonable fears for having no trust for my split ankles and twisted balance.

tell me what to believe and for once i will take your word as truth. for i am gullible, but not quick to trust.

Sunday, August 29, 2010


we hit a bunny on the way back from the park
you asked why i couldn't stay out
i told you i was too young
you left
we remembered sharing smoke

Friday, August 27, 2010

sore joints.

reactions unstirred, yet attentive to the things that i can
touch around me
sensory like a child
how to let yourself love so foolishly
squandering my well-being away with a kiss to a beautiful stranger who haunts my porch
and who's rumble-down engine fills my thoughts every time i see the jet black shine in the late afternoon
pools of oil on my white driveway
luster like a black; streaks of pink and
for we were not that simple
so the stains remain
and i scrub myself clean
living loud
so i can forget the sound
of your ego revolving around plastic rotation of a flimsy desire

let me be
so i can learn to find that beat within again
sans you
independently lifting cupboards far too heavy and keys too foreign
for my fickle fingers
and wrists askew

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

mr. clean.

my dirty feet marked the start of something new
cleansing with transparent lavender, i found the things to
make life clean again
i am done checking and waiting
routing number changed
there is a whole world out there
and it smells like lavender.

Sunday, August 22, 2010

cemetary junction.

today i agreed to a fate of lying around
so i woke up late
talked about the grey-ness of a future not everybody understands
my need to rebel escape and question
how it is almost easier to be different if no one is telling you to
things will be okay for me
i have heard the predictions
the evidence is in front of me
an old arab proverb says
"pretend your deepest desire is right in front of you, and just grab it"
honestly i don't really understand
but it seems right
and i love change and the imminent future
so today i will talk
but tomorrow i will take hold of something tightly and
just run with it

Saturday, August 21, 2010


for now i put aside form fitting clothing and eyelashes and the color black
lay on the floor
and absorb what i do not know

Friday, August 20, 2010

i'm strange, and you're strange.

i went flying when i was least expecting it. pausing for connection, remembering for redemption. singing loud, dancing like a fool. i opened up for the first time in a while. set free by nobody watching, and if they were, it was a joke. who needs you? just because of what you would do. that's not a reason to stay. so i'll laugh loud and forget the things you say.

the best day in a long time. thanks.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

probably not.

refusal, finding myself in the midst of everybody's assumptions. self-denial, in order to remind myself of the life ahead. hope, that everything will meet my sky high expectations. realization, that sometimes i'm not okay. curious, because you probably don't miss me.



maybe these are not so bad after all.

Monday, August 16, 2010

twisted vine.

a punch straight to the sink hole that has become my heart
void unfilled
losing track of something endlessly far
only 20 days ago


Sunday, August 15, 2010

alone i ran, drove, and swam.

waves and their power. to make you laugh, to knock you over. to talk to someone about your past... something you should have done long ago.

watching him like a hawk. realizing you too, were watching. but not him--me. "mother hen?"
are we all just birds then?

running to that endless tribute to recycling. the dead sea gull in the water. marble statues... that look like me. missing you; not enough to make me cry. but enough to drive past your house on my way home.

enough to do something a little bit stupid.

but i am young
and mistakes make you grow
for i will not learn
until i know why.

"we never stop mourning. the times in between grow longer, and the times we do grow shorter."

Friday, August 13, 2010

punch out.


Tuesday, August 10, 2010

nap time revelation.

throwing pastel colored booklights to the ceiling of this warehouse, my body reacts with sightless eyes and bloody mirrors. the time i put into your grey floor with the hole where my ankle always catches, and i am left sprawling like the ridiculous 17 year old they see. i am exactly what you see; that is all you care about. my yellow lids and heart twisting worry meant nothing to you on the thursday and friday that i left. if only i could count the times you walked into me, caught by the book in your hands. when really i was alone in the cavern of my overworked mentality, and raging self conscious. what have i learned? how to spell fuchsia. and that in comparison, i am a cut above the rest of a senseless mass of humanity. these words taste bitter and harsh on my mouth... but honesty is a thick vein on my right arm. i wish you luck, to those people who understood my misplacement in their world, how if i had not been raised a certain way, i would certainly be lost in a cardboard box the size of my closet. to those who had more, who knew the world... who to some extent knew me. i do not know your last names, but your work ethic and a fragment of the skeleton of your past. a person on your mind, but never your hands. but thank you. we will not hug, or cry. but i will keep the words of your honest work on my mind, and somewhere in my heart i believe.

i cry when my friends do. they will never know.

Monday, August 9, 2010

mosquito bite.

i will talk you out of my system
denying both ends of opinion
to find a place where we can rest forever
in my memory

Saturday, August 7, 2010

car seat reflections.

its night like these that make me want to cut my hair.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

i saw you in the left lane.

told myself i wouldn't see you
but i don't control the left lane
or the muffler's purr
your music
or your profile set against the night
and i can't help wanting to see you
when all i know is no

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

city, please.

we are rebels of the darkness
lighting up this town with orange lights, street lights
controlling which way our wheels turn
where the pavement moves
dust beneath our overworked feet
but i love the motion of
going somewhere
not looking back
straight ahead, plowing
through everything
because you are not ahead
and no red light to tell me to stop
so go go go