not quite nameless.

sweetly smiling sweetheart
crooked teeth and starry eyes
You know, you could mean the world to me.
Maybe we'll make a history
of our own. But I cant read the future
and only time will tell.
In the mean time,
we could make some memories.
All these people here tonight are
not quite as worthwhile as you.
So, let's paint our faces and
share some secrets.
Hidden galaxies.
Stand on the back porch and
watch the lightening light up
the night sky, talking
in slow sentences of
nothing and everything,
all at once.

one.through.five

1. Changing Seasons -
the sun holds the living in captivation for eternities at a time. Some days the pretty pixels are more than enough to make my heart beat. Some days it still feels like gray-sky winter.

2. Sharp Tongued -
Dear, who taught you that when your charm and whit fail, resorting to condescending accusations is the acceptable Plan B for winning hearts? They were wrong.

3. Attention To Detail -
yes, it's true, when you're young everything is the end of the world. I remember but pay close attention. See the sunset and the fireflies? Salvation hides in the smallest things - just open your eyes, my love.

4. Mysteries Abound -
teeth and eyes - smiles and sighs and I don't owe anyone anything. It took a while, learning to remove the stitching from the heart on my sleeve. The price to pay for becoming a question mark.

5. Second Glances -
i know that i will look back and be desperate to say that I did all that i could. Regrets are expected. Smile and keep driving. What's behind you is done. Keep your eyes on the road, baby. Don't hold your breath waiting for tomorrow.

News Flash:

Yes, it hurts.
But not like I remember
and you don't scare me anymore.
Not since I opened my eyes.
Not since last week.
And my heart doesn't beat for you.
At least, not like it did,
once upon a time.
You tiptoed your way out of that fairy tale
but in my book, baby, you're
still making headlines.

The Art of Existence

Oh, it's easy,
the art of disappearing.
I've perfected it once or twice.
Reappearing,
that's the challenge.
Maybe not the act.
But the act of willing the act.
Force and expectation.
Take a deep breath and hold it.
Deep inside your lungs.

You push yourself back on that stage
before the curtain goes up -
the audience staring back at you.
Open like a book.
Flaws and imperfections
judged by the masses.
Keep your head high.
don't retract like a turtle.
It gets easier with time.
Just like riding a bike.
cross my fingers - promise.
Hold your breath a little longer
and the curtain ascends like
"Taa-Daa"

An ode to your presence

No more excuses and time is running out.
The rivers are drying up and
you can't count the stars through the
haze of city lights.
We might not be so worried
if it were February.
But, as seasons have it,
April is here,
along with some fairy tales and
interesting news reports.
I'm not sure how much longer
this can last.
If you leave, who will keep the
monsters at bay, and who will
distract the prison guards?
Please, don't leave.
Don't you see?
I'll be eaten alive without you.

unconventional love.

I've been talking you up for years
layer upon layer
diamonds and concrete
blue eyes thrown into the mix.
Turns out, as rumor has it,
this is all some silly little game and
it is yet to be determined but
the truth of the matter is that
fact from fiction could not,
would not make me
love you less.

Probability in the Predicament

February stole the
words from my mouth.
March put on a mask,
vanished in the crowd.
Just like you.
Seems to be the way
things work 'round here.
I dissolve into the horizon.
Perhaps I'll stay lost
for a second of two.
Learn some new tricks
and play connect the dots.
Smoke and mirrors to
murder and magic.
No use trying to
win this round.
I'm holding all 52 cards.

Taste the Infinity.

Twenty-one colour negation
cannot meltdown
or translate
the simple
reverberations of
your smile.

The Sky(line) is Beautiful Tonight

I don't adore snapping fingers
or blown kisses or harsh words.
Not like I adore lilies or
"goodmorning, sunshine"s or
second chances.
I'm human too, most of the time.
Tell me to jump and
I'll say "goodbye."
Expectations escape me and
don't believe everything you hear.
Or see. Or touch, taste and smell.
Nothing personal, love, I'll
question it all.
The sound of the rain may still
make me cry but don't think
so much - you're not to blame.
I'll show you mine
if you show me yours first.
But battle scars don't impress me,
baby, everyone's got them.
Still, I like the sound of your voice
so, can you kiss my cheek,
tell me the story
one more time?

Stop Me if You've Heard This One Before...

I've been saying the same thing for years.
My tongue has memorized -
the stories -
have shaped themselves
to the roof of my mouth.
Haven't you heard this one before?
Recycling the same silly words
with an appealing spin.
Baby, Honey, Sweetheart.
Eventually my thesaurus will fail me.
Will redundant forms of
self-expression bring my demise?
That would be clever.
But I wouldn't stop.
Not even with all the answers.
I dont need a map to
cheat this game.
It is short enough,
without my help.
The alphabet doesn't lose it's beauty -
And sincerity is not lost
through repetition.
If anything, made stronger.
So, in case you missed it the first time,
I'll say it all again...
I am lost. I am chaos.
I am clarity and black coffee.
I am strong but I fall down.
I can swim.
Pretty baby, I am breathless
from the beauty of this life.
I am crushed. I am high.
I am yellow.
I am crossing my fingers and
I would do it all again,
not change a thing.
Fishlips and butterfly kisses,
broken, bent or bruised.
Scream a little louder.
Make somebody notice.
And it's the little things that will
always render me breathless.

Rome wasn't build in a day

and neither was this
magnificent mayhem.
Bruises are another story.
Materialize overnight.

Clarity in the Concise.

Dont cross your fingers
and dont hold your breath.
Dont you wish you knew
that years ago?
before that beating in
your chest grew so loud
that it was useless
keeping secrets?
an escape route from that
shimmering disappointment.
Some days I do and
some days I dont and
I will always wish on
that first star in the sky.
Whisper you my secrets,
now dont prove me wrong.
Turn out the lights and
forget the alarm.
I know your time is precious,
but all time is, sweetheart.
Dont use up all your excuses,
I might just shock you and
stick around a while.
Winter is almost over,
we could go for a drive.

and another thing

i wish i could tell you.
1. you make me feel like a stupid child. Which I prolly am.
melodrama does not suite me, but it's the way things feel.
2. At this point, I would do almost anything just for Aubrie to answer her phone. I wish i could be mad at her, but i'm just scared. Why am I even calling? The inevitable frustration, worry and sick feelings aren't enjoyable. Some may even say "unpleasant." But, I care Maybe too much? It is damn near ridiculous how much I base my actions and feelings off of other people's. I dont even know. One day it will finally sink in that no one is going to save me. Not mom or dad, not Becca, not Alex or laura or Aubrie, not therapists or friends or lovers or strangers. I have to do it myself. And i'm not quite sure where to begin.
3. I hate that I dont have the guts to tell you how much you hurt me.
4. I like you but I dont have the energy to be fucked with. So, no games. Unless it's Candy Land. Then, I'm in.

Lately feels like someone stole my life's road map and i'm lost and the sun is setting and i wanna kick the thief in the shins 'cause it wasnt a very polite. Except the thing is, I probably lost it. Along with my blue Contemporary Social Problems binder and my Hurley t-shirt. And probably some other stuff i havent realized I lost yet.
No. Here is the real problem. Things are too serious. College, friends, enemies, family, what i wanna be when i grow up, hell, what I wanna be tomorrow. It's too big and final and scary. (warning: immabout to sound like a intense hippie) I would be happy with a camera, a car, some music and friends. Like, real friends. That dont get (too) tired of my manic bullshit. What is all this about deciding on a Major and being grown-up and sending people to boarding school and no, half of my life didnt really happen because only shit like that happens in the movies. Not to me, silly.

unfinished : Honey Come Home.

All these words -
hopes, dreams,
secrets, whispers,
things i wish i'd said -
Swarm around my
head like
bees around their
honey home.
Couldn't stop them
even if I tried.
Pour it in a bottle
but it will burn your
fingers.
These silly bees dont
sleep. Not even when
I do.
You want to chase them
away for me?
I wouldnt either.
Might get stung.
Baby, I tried, i did.
but you needed steadier
footing and I needed to
cry a little longer.
Everything reminds me
of you.
Especially the honey (bees)

luminescence for the renegades.

We lit up the Southern Coast
well, not quite the coast,
but close.
The Tragic City got more than
it bargained for with
you and me, baby,
Sleep well, Sweetheart.
I flick the switch
but you continue to glow like
"This Little Light Of Mine"

my chaos and illusions are inevitable:

but don't worry, my love,
I'll teach you my ways.
Wash down our big dreams
and bad days with
Sunny D and pretty pills.

curiosity killed the needy

They say the third time's the charm,
well, i'm going on three times that.
our proximity is next to nothing
but will you tell me about your life?

condiments kid.

hey kid,
you got scars on the roof
of your mouth from all
those lies
you've been telling.
Dipped in honey.
Smile cemented strong.
Fool me once,
but you did it again.
and again.
Doesnt it get old?
Your toes are so
sticky from stepping in
grape jelly.

untitled #57 (Forest Park, you felt like home)

I've always been that girl who takes
the road less traveled ...
and uses trite expressions along the way.
I wish i'd known where this road was going.
You could have warned me,
but i think i knew -
chose to put my green sunglasses and
low-top Converse on anyways.
Didn't lock the door.
All I wanted was to catch your eye,
play in the park, fling some paint
on the white walls, put some color
in our cheeks.
Painkillers for the hole in my chest.
But I chose the wrong road.
Maybe I was hoping too hard,
saying too much with no words.
Maybe I'm still a child who just wants someone
to check the closet for monsters.
Whatever diagnosis is true,
I am just blue eyes, starburst wrappers
littering your bedroom floor.
Not one of the girls,
not one of the boys,
not yours.
I guess chaos and pretty words
do not earn brownie points.

merry-we-go-'round.

Promise?
I promise, I'm not going anywhere.
a thousand times.
But that was a lie too,
you just didnt know it yet.
You'll get tired of the things
that dont make sense:
crying and laughing and impossible
dreams and bad days that you only
want to make better.
It's not you but, sometimes it is, but
mostly it's just me.
But why would you understand?
You havent known me forever and I'm
not that transparent, am I?
Baby, you cant relate and
I can articulate.
For fuck sake,
I'm spinning on my own carousel.

citrus.

Look, see how beautiful they are?
These oranges wont be in season
forever, you know.
Yes, sweetheart, I know
and neither will we.

England:

isnt that where you
can travel
underground?
yes.
And they have no
monkeys.

Chill-pill.

take a break, shut your pretty eyes and
breath.
There are no ghosts in your bed.
Wont you give it a rest?
Wont you give me a try?
Ice cream for breakfast,
time of your life.
Kisses for dinner,
no space or distance.
Eat you up to keep you close.
oh, thats right, you're a vegetarian.
Thank you for remembering, love,
most people forget.

papercuts

She makes lists
for no other reason that to fill
the blank pages with words,
her handwriting, that of a romantic.
Give a piece of herself to the spaces.
It's a waste of time, she knows
and write on like, one. two. three.
Hey, whatever makes you happy, baby.
and do you know, I've spent so much
money on you? Pull yourself together, kid!
If it were that simple, do you think
she'd still be making lists?

you caught me.

but the story doesnt end here, you know
I've still got teeth and eyes
and thighs
I've even got a heart. Promise.
You make me wanna shoot guns and pick
peaches and set things on fire.
Pretend that I'm not dying.
But who am I kidding?
I've been dying for years.
Dying for you, I would.
at least my teeth arent rotting and
my eyes are still blue.
So is the sky, and pigs dont fly,
yet So, i think everything
will be okay.
And if it's not, if nothing else,
you taught me how to argue.

It's 2:33 in the morning.

If nothing else, you taught me how to argue.

there's no curtain call in sight.

Stick around a while, watch the sparks fly.
Yellow days disperse like a crowd in a rainstorm.
I crave the warm weather like my
daily dose of prescriptions. longing for you.
I'm wide-eyed and thin for hours.
Happy to dance in front of the mirror.
Even though every stitch of clothing is dirty and
the weather man predicts more snow.
but, he is a tease and so is the weather
and so am I.
I open your front door,
toss in a white-teeth smile, lovely perfume
and a grenade.
Retreat to the shelter of my warm bed.
Under soft sheets, my castle of
flashlights and maps.
Safe from all the ghosts.
Even though their existence is my doing.
I tried to fix the mess I made.
Sticky sweet apologies and Elmer's Glue.
But I didn't want to grow old.
I don't want to grow old. Not with you
and you wont stop trying to kiss me.
Don't you see how lonely you make me?
How lost I am without you?
"In the end it will be okay, love."
I know that, I've been here before.
I'll find more messes to make and
more pills to take and more smiles to fake.
It could be entertaining,
So stick around a while.
You'd be the first
to stay past intermission.

you look like night time.

criss-cross my fingers and
glance at the empty goldfish bowl.
Is irresponsibility genetic?
no, but alcoholism and sarcasm are.
Fingers go numb hoping
my blue eyes will once more
cause a cease-fire.
Where would we be without wishful thinking?
look up at the stars
only a small crack to see them through.
Calm down, the yelling stopped.
Watch closely - those stars are shooting.
I've been hit before,
but not like this.
sitting on the white tile floor in a
pool of my own bright blood,
colors bring tears to my eyes.
The blue ones that failed me.
It's my toes that are bleeding.
footsteps and the door opens and
she looks horrified.
I promise it was an accident. I Swear.
All i wanted was to see the view
Don't worry, love, there's only
stardust in my veins now.

our dissolvable tryst:

I marked the map with a red "X" where our empire fell to ruin.
But it's 2010, baby, and these things dont happen on accident.
Rats on the inside with pretty words and bad directions.
Epithets were never discussed. Unnecessary, even.
No need for big decisions.
Just a kiss on the forehead and some orange juice for breakfast.
Maybe you should have told me sooner.
I wouldnt be holding a red pen.

one.through.twelve

1. He fit every Disney Princess on one cake. Just for me.
2. Bailing you out of jail with my allowance. Quarters and dimes.
3. Good days and bad days. But mostly I dont want to remember.
4. Utah is cold in the winter.
5. White lilies found me on the streets of Washington D.C.
6. I drove and you picked the music and the sun was still shinning, i swear.
7. Smacked my head on the window sill when I fell. You drugged me with my own pills.
8. I can count my yellow days on two hands and two feet.
9. Hate to say "I told you so" - especially to myself.
10. Sweet disposition.
11. Youre too good to be true but i'll never say I didnt try.
12. Sleepy sighs, I can see my breath in this weather and it's a small world, after all.

snap.

I document myself in mixed CD's and empty coffee cups.
Both litter the counters and floor space like the
scattered memory of you and me and that house
with the tin roof and a yellow dress and the
playground with rusty monkey-bars and
lightening storms over a lake on the other side of the mountains
and the strawberries that i forced myself to eat so I could
kiss you and not fall down.
Like Polaroids pinned to the wall with tiny metal tacks.
Driving so fast that I cant even catch up to myself.
But you, You always seem to
slow me down,
take me out of my head. Lets go for a walk -
the days are getting longer, you know.
I know.
You smile, and it's goofy and I love you for it.
The little things. Always the smallest things.
Laced fingers and humoring me when I
dont want to eat even though I should so I can
kiss you and not fall down.
You know so much, I smile and watch the skyline.
I love this city and it's better with you.
It's better not to be alone, especially
if you are me.
That's when the coffee cups get left too long.
No more clean ones, and the CD's get scratched.
Today I broke a coffee cup. Dropped in on the tile floor.
Shattered like fireworks.
You could have stayed.
Nothing is as serious as it seems.
And I already cleaned up the broken cup.

back. finally.

i've finally started writing again.
get some of this over-active emotional nonsense out of me.
things are quite the tornado lately. but i cant seem to look away.
guess we shall see what happens.