maybe our ribbons are meant to cross.

you were in my dream.
when all i had was a jacket,
and you were across the room.
in a way, you chose me.
and i reciprocated, because that's
what i do.
you confuse me.
suprise me.
and i like it,
i guess.
what is this?
a poem?
an unopened letter?
an unanswered prayer?
whatever it is,
it probably is not to who you think it is for
so deal with that
while i pray for more.

weekend.

yes, i learned. perhaps i grew.
for now, i will leave it at that.

what color is dust?

for a moment or two,
i wish my life was full of feelings
"straight from seventeen magazine"
just like
just love
just hate
nothing in between, where they
clash
forever asking where my heart lies
but that would not be my life.
in the same way, i ask for
no other heart
no other mind
no other body
except on mondays
because then i am faced with the real world again
or perhaps
it is the fake world

the story of 89 and 90.

numbers 89 and 90 sat on a couch.
then 89 got pissed and laid on her porch in the sun.
90 worried.
89 knew it.
89 liked it.
90 groveled.
89 forgave.
now 89 and 90 are happy again.

the end.

you know it's a bad sign if...

you know it's a bad sign if you are social and people think something is wrong with you.
you know it's a bad sign if your used-to-be favorite class now makes you moan.
you know it's a bad sign that if the only thing you really care about doesn't even make you that excited.
you know it's a bad sign when you're too exhausted to be with people that can always make you laugh.
you know it's a bad sign if you're trying to think of somewhere to belong and are torn between where you should be, and where you "should be."
you know it's a bad sign if songs you used to hate now have a whole new meaning.

echoes connected.

that evening was unlike any other in a very long time. pushed to a brink, and willed back to the same edge that we had almost fallen from. my hands touching a mirror, than for the first time in oh so long, hands lifted in swaying, wordless nothing. for i did not know what to do, or what to say. all i knew was i could see my face as if in a movie, and that it was a face of total shock. arms around me, pushing me from side to side, catching me before i fell. like rain on a trampoline, tears on a lonely night, and waves beating me down from my perfect balance. what was left of me? what more could i give? nothing.


So I lay my head back down.
And I lift my hands and pray
To be only yours, I pray, to be only yours
I pray, to be only yours
I know now you're my only hope.

you think i have a title for my confusion??

oh, Lord. what do i do now?