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."

punch out.

.

happening

always

is

life

my

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.

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

car seat reflections.

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

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

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

fast

going somewhere

not looking back

straight ahead, plowing

through everything

anything

because you are not ahead

and no red light to tell me to stop

only

green

so go go go