It's always scary when you're happy. You know that what goes up, must come back down.

I believe that everyone's biggest fear is being alone.
I face that fear everyday.

These phases are normal.

Every action has a reaction: every smile, a tear.

Nobody truly deserves happiness if they can't make it work for them.

We all have a long way to go.

Honest Reservations

Doubts flash over and over.

By not trusting myself, I don't let anyone else.

I've learned to expect the worst from people.

Back to that ever haunting wall.

Even writing this right now, I'm putting a wall up.

I haven't written in months.

I block out the positive, focus on all of my regrets.

Every mistake, every possible consequence.

I've let secrets grow in my mind. 

I'm used to letting out the poison.

Always the first to apologize,

but I guess that's out of fear of abandonment.

Things are just too different.

I thought I wanted change but I'm not sure I can handle it.

The terminals all carry a burden, each gate a sad goodbye.
The saltwater of the tears slick the floors of the airport.
The terminals all carry a gift, each gate filled with hope.
Those tears are mopped up by the smiles of the happy.

Read it how you please. See what you want to see. A sign is yours to interpret. Look to the skies and you'll never fall. The clouds will lead you, the stars will guide you.

She talks to herself because there's no one else.

Tears at the beginning of my long journey home, I cry myself out and reach a state of total numbness. A layover brings me back to the real world, I'm reaching normalcy. A simple call awakens me and I'm excited. Ready to start my new life. Ready to prepare for those days that I come bhack and start a new life with her, better late than  never.

Nails digging into my skin, I embrace the pain. Better there be blood than tears. She's telling me the story of my childhood. A straight face, she means no harm. So palms pressed into my thighs, I count my breaths. My lips clamp onto my straw to keep from quivering. The pain that's not just mine, but my sister's. The slap across her innocent face makes my cheek burn, the hunger in her stomach makes my full one ache. Stories that make me realize how protected I was. A father fighting the one he once loved to keep me from knowing such a cold world existed, if only for a few years. Memories rush back of a small hand grasping my even smaller one, pulling me from danger. All of these emotions in the blink of an eye and I'm back to listening to the saddest story I know.

Maybe, but I'll never know.

I write the me that only I know. It's not others' faults for not knowing, after all, it's all just one big lie. Smoke and mirrors shroud the truth. A mask for the soul hides the parts I want shown. Flaws sneak through and I dream of the maybes. The never-knows. Maybe there are lies for a reason. The untapped beauty of a soul is to remain to oneself. Maybe by writing all these thoughts, speaking them aloud, I'm messing with powers higher than me. Bringing ugly into this perfect world. Loneliness is in fact a gift. Yet another theory that life throws upon us, or that I find myself digging into the mystery of.

The glitter of the ocean blinds the dreamers,
makes them realize how large the world is.
Their footprints in the sand slipping away with the tides,
the salt of their tears collects.
A child steps into the sea.
Splashes the water and drifts with the current.
He tastes the pain with every rush of water.
The sorrow crashes against him harder than any wave could.
A tsunami of emotions spanning the world.
Each drop of the ocean another story,
swallowing you,
overcome with empathy,
you drown.
There is no place for dreaming in reality.

Sun fading and we're weaving through the Alabama trees. The road trip playlist and the soft reassurance of humming along from the backseat, you watch the windows. The clouds disappear through the leaves and you wait. Eyes locked waiting for them to come back, knowing they will but in the back of your mind wishing they won't. Begging time to stand still, forever in that perfect moment.

Trust

It's a word said casually.
Thrown around with no thought of the consequences.
A poem is written and a secret is told.
It's read between the lines, assumptions are made.
So you tell your thoughts,
what was running through your mind when the pen was in your hand.
Lessons never learned.
It's written in a shroud on purpose.
Keep your mouth closed and 
quiet the voices in your head screaming of loneliness.

Overreact and exaggerate.

It's all in my head, but I don't let it out.

Smile, laugh, tell stories.

Running over every problem in my head.

Those days that I forget it all, 

vacations from my mind.

Hello, summer.

Goodbye, fakes.

Never say forever.

They tell you that secrets only bring you closer, 
but in the end they're what tear you apart.
Ammo for the revenge shot.
Bullets used to kill only friendship.

They say I'm chasing the wind.
A finger to the North and some lines on a map.
I'm running along the roadside, hair swimming behind me.
Feet no longer on the ground, I'm off on my adventure.
Daydreaming my way to nirvana.

A secret you can't even whisper in your head.
A mental block. Don't tell anyone. 
Can't trust anyone.
Not even yourself.
Because at your weakest moments,
you'll tell.

Theres a tear on my face for every day you've been away.
It's flooding and I can't find my way out the room.
You didn't leave, but you couldn't stay.
And now I'm drowning alone. 
Swimming to the top only for you.
The light shining through the rain,
you're my guide in the dark.

I don't remember hiding.
All I remember is smiling in the dark,
laughing while they searched.

It would be so easy to fall asleep and never wake up again.

Polished nails and blushed cheeks,
charcoaled eyes and chapsticked lips.
I'll pluck and shave and lotion and whiten.
Always striving for the best.
Never even reaching the decent.

I'm always in the darkness,
finding my way out. 
It's too hard to breathe.
Reach for a hand, 
my arm grasps through the air,
finally falling to my side.
Empty.

Beauty is:

Beauty is the drop of a needle on a record.
The sense of belonging when I cross over the Golden Gate.
The glamour of a pin-up girl.
The jolt of sneaking into that extra movie.
It is the sophistication of red lipstick.
The possibilities in a thrift store.
The invitation of a tattoo into a soul.
The constant strive of culture.
Beauty is the crisp of a new book.
The inspiration of pen meeting paper.
The smell of vanilla: the smell of mom.
The ideas of bettering the world with change.
It is the perfect fit of a quote into a feeling.
The swell of my heart when I think of family.
The mystery of the mind.
The shutter of a camera's click.
Beauty is the stick of a word at the end of your tongue.
The wonder of why singing is always better in the shower.
The expression in creativity.
The hum to the tune you can't quite remember.
It is the subway rumbling under your feet.
The way a parent is always there for you.
The scribble of charcoal onto the pad.
The ache to get out and live.
Beauty is the reel of film turning into art.
The blurring of faces all meshing into one.
The contradiction of a conscience.
The pattern in a psyche.
It is the stumble in a child's first steps.
The beam of a boy in love.
The ecstasy of dreams come true.
The gentle swoosh of the wind.
Beauty is the days when that swing set took you to the moon.
The smile in a dog's eyes.
The utopia of love conquering all.
The creativity in intelligence.
It is the laughter of a family dinner.
The pleasure of understanding.
The creation of something out of nothing.
The curiosity in anonymity.
Beauty is the things that make me, me.

A storm is brewing,
nature's lost it too.
Tears cry down on my cheeks,
rain cries down on my head.
Slammed down by the wind.
Now my body feels like my mind.
I struggle and sway,
holding to the thinnest branch.
Knocked down by insanity.
Thunder cracking,
people shrieking.
The ever present yearning 
of that never coming rainbow.
Lights burning out,
sun searching to see out of the clouds.
It's dark and I'm blind.
Wandering and pushing through the shroud,
I fall to the ground.
Sleep at last.

Slam the keys a little harder
stretch your fingers a little farther
eyes open, shoulders swaying
turning the sweet melody into harsh notes
the piano's a punching bag: 
let it out

Can we play pretend,
forget we were ever friends?

Weak from the days.
Pretend smiles and useless chatter.
I'm over the masquerade, taking off the mask.
Three weeks til freedom and I'm counting the seconds.
It's when I can be alone at last.
I'll sit through the day, begging for the sun to come down
when I can sleep.
If I were so lucky.
Insomnia: my punishment.
I don't even deserve my dreams.

I run away every night.
Lay in my bed and picture a better life.
Somewhere where I'm happy.
Where I don't end up breaking down everyday.
Where I can actually have a conversation in a home without yelling.
Where I feel loved... or even acknowledged.
Somewhere where I'm happy is way too far for me to travel.

Don't try to be cute, it's just so unattractive.

One by one we drift.
Grab the raft and save ourselves.
Life is just a myth.

A Childless Mother

There's a woman out there who smokes her nights away.
Shooting up to get rid of the pain.
She has daughters, a young and an old.
Their lives, without a mother, unfold.
Replacements are made and they soon forget
the mother who God knows will have regrets.
It's graduation night for a girl so bright.
A mom on her arm, she forgets for a night.
These mothers who love without so much a thought,
a love and a life that cannot be bought.
So that woman whose drifting and drinking life away,
has no rights when she's not there for the everyday.
Their mom's not the woman birth made it to be,
a new mommy makes it their destiny.

BElieVE.

Alone is how you were born.
It's how you'll die.
It's safest.
No one to trust.
There's no such thing as unconditional love.
Love is a daily thing and you take it in whatever way you can,
grab onto it and hold it, if only for the night.
Repeat the words they say,
replaying it all in your head.
Then it changes.
It's a constant flipping of emotions.
Until your heart becomes too broken to repair,
alone.
Once and for all.

Stealing this moment, watching it drift away.
Spit on his feet,
he stays silent.
You crush your cigarette on his cloak,
he stays still.
With tears rushing down your face
you weep to the sky.
Looking at his plastic smile,
waiting for it to speak, make itself known.
The clocks still turning.
Life passing by
as you sit in the rain,
at the bottom of the stairs leading into church.

Teenage Wasteland

A downward slope,
everything comes crashing down around me.
Friends and family.
Grades and a future.

These are the best years of my life?

Devil's running amuck in my mind.
Holding his own in that whirlwind.
Blood among the sea of blue.
I lose them all, one by one.
Slowly life disinegrating.
Start fresh?
The children you were in diapers with
are now your worst enemies.
Trapping you forever in the way
they've labeled you.
Break the mold and suffer the consequences.
What to do,
when the one to blame is you.

Blank pages and overflowing thoughts.

So many feelings have ran through my mind this past month.
No outlet, no computer.
Writing by hand is great when you don't have a computer but I always end up forgetting what I was writing.
Takes too long to get it all on paper, much too much to get out.

And then my chance at writing, and what do I write?

Nothing.
Maybe that's just what I need.

To keep the page blank for once.
Good night.

Life should consist of rainy days and a constant cloudy haze.

These days are so ridiculous.
Hours spent wanting, days spent needing.
All the while you ignore your feelings.
Tuck them away and consider only instinct.

These days are so monotonous.
A minute passes.
Sixty seconds, the hum of a tune in your head.
You sing it louder, to drown out the thoughts you cant erase.

These days are so tiring.
You laugh and you smile.
You go through the routine,
day in and day out.
To show that you'll make it.

When really all you want is freedom.
Out of this city, out of this time.
Wishing it was just 2 years from now.
When you can hop on that plane
and fly into the neverending.

That place with nothing to hold you back
and no one to tie you down.

We'll spraypaint our secrets to the world.

Graffiti the side of a runaway train.
An endless web of tracks,
they'll encircle the world.

Let it be, shout it out.
A secret for the world to see.

"Don't you wish you could throw your pennies back at them?

Fountain, fountain we are the same.

You with the water and me with the pain.

It is so beautiful how you remain."

It's  a day that makes you wish you could forget it all.
Move away, stop time, live again once you choose to.
Though it may sound harsh, to forget all but a select blood related few and begin again.
That is true bliss.
Then I will reach that impossible nirvana.


Only in dreams can I visit,
only in a wishful moment can I escape.
Until then, I'll wait.

She had a sense of calm excitement.
Her hair a perfect fit --
Chaotic curls smoothed into a controlled mess.


A delicate flower, Camilia.
Thorns down the stem, or rather there should have been.
She's evolved, no unkindness: no thorns.

Don't worry, I'll send you running for the hills.

You walk to the oceans
You drift to the seas
You run to the rivers
You say they carry you to me.

A Glimpse into the Future

but more of an insight to myself.
Asked a question,
the one that haunts me daily.
Wind, Water Goddes, Mole:
my cards.


Not decisive enough -- be more assertive,
calm down -- I don't need to rush, take things at my own pace,
I need to focus more on me, bring myself back and not worry about every little thing.

Easy as 123

After the show, everything changes.
Becoming another world, becoming a different person, almost.
Change isn't necessarily a bad thing, change was needed.
Destroying the old you, it's a process.
Everyone goes through it.
For once in her life, she felt it.
Going and taking yet leaving and giving at the same time.
Happiness was in reach.
It was just beyond her fingertips.
Just close enough to wish for.
Keeping her promise to him, she tried.
Lying was an option but she was starting off new.
Making new decisions and entering this bliss.
Nothing to hold back.
Only forever to look at.
Possibilities vast and a smile just so near to becoming a reality.
Q & Brooklyn -- she'd get on this train.
Reliving the most painful part of her life would bring her closer to nirvana.
She wouldn't stop -- no turning back.
Train starts, mind runs.
Until her stop, she held the rail, picturing the sign.
Veins pulsing and heart pumping she remembered the cold of the barrel on her forehead.
Wishing it to be over, wanting it to stop if only just the memory.
X: that's what she'd call him, what she'd cover up the nightmare with.
Youth taken and adolescence destroyed but all its forgiven.
Zoning out, he took her hand, she drifted into that final happiness.



Listening to: Dion.

It goes on to the end of forever.

You can never lose hope in something as beautiful as love.
Be it friendly or romantic, love makes it all that much more wonderful.

Reality's always there,

when I want to go back.

Of all the days of forever

and the people of this heaven,
our lives intertwined today.

I'd like to tell you that friendships are forever.
That a true best friend is there for you "through thick and thin."
But honestly, they leave your side.
There's one I can count on.
One I can always believe in,
and I love her.
And this isn't one that one day I'll think back and say the same.
I was at her birth, "from the womb to the tomb."
Though life may change, our friendship never will.

Oh, how I love to hear the patter of the raindrops.

Sliding down the windows,
making letters with their streaks,
rain will always mean something to me.

A signal of beauty in this world.
I sign that some days, I can be truly happy.

A smile on my lips just from the sound of trees swaying.
A warmth in my chest from the simple sound of the pool splashing with the rain.

The rythmic beating,
tires swooshing through the puddles.

Oh, how I love these days.

Pain, pain go away.

"Everything is temporary.
There isn’t anything permanent in this world.
All words wilt.
All bodies decay.
And sayings just fly away."


So I spent my day in bed yesterday, six long hours of the same dream in different forms.
I woke up from time to time to feel a contraption, a creation much like Jigsaw would make.
My hips were bound and feet were locked.
Neck steadily fastened to my spine.
Arms not ready to leave my side.
So I lay in bed.
Too afraid to wake up and have to face that I was still in pain.
Sleep was not much better though.
This lock was still on me.
I dreamt I went to school.
I dreamt that nothing went right.
Children who seemed friends only proved my thoughts correct
and simultaneously crushed my hopes and dreams.
Try to be good.
Erase what mistakes were made,
and live like I should.
But the pain took it all away.
So I spent my day in bed yesterday, six long hours of the same dream in different forms.

Maybe this was just the pain pills.
Or maybe it was an unforgettable glimpse of a sad future.
And as I watch the storm slowly unfolding outside,
I wonder when the thunder will come.
I wonder when it will all be coming true.

I'm soaring through the sky,

and you'd think I'd want you next to me,
but  actually, I quite enjoy watching you from above.

An angel ready to swoop down, but until then,
you're safe on the ground.

"And I'm flying so high, high off the ground, when you're around."

-Jem

You know it's a good song,

when you picture a moment of life flashing by, like a movie.

Pictures in my mind, running through.
Covering me like a blanket.
I'll pull back the covers,
come on in.

I don't want to forget this when the sun breaks the sky.

Sinking in Quick Sin

I saw it in the flash of your eyes.
Just a quick second to the left, I saw you twitch and I watched you sweat.

Liar. The whole of you is just such a great lie.

Often we forget how a best friend came to be.
An unremarkable beginning to a neverending love.

But why is it that the meeting could be the most important in your life and we forget it?
If only because every other day piles on top of it, adding to its greatness.

Wishful Thinking

I made a wish and blew into the weed, but like most things in my life, I had to force it.
Tearing all but the stem, a tear floated down onto the petals.
Maybe fate took pity on me, my wish came true.

Change

Life is constantly changing. What's known to be true yesterday, becomes pure fiction today.
Adjust, adjust and take it as it comes.

This poor cat has been outside my grandma's house for days on end crying.
But everytime I go out to look for it, it stops.

Maybe she's not crying for me.
Maybe she wants to find something much more valuable than a bowl of milk.
Maybe she's trying to figure out what she did wrong.
Maybe she's trapped in the web of lies, not just a web of steel.
Maybe her kitties have been taken away from her: she just wants her babies back.
Or maybe she's just cold in the rain.
But I honestly feel it's something more.
She's trapped.
I can relate.

I feel like now that I've brought this back, I have to be more... restricted with what I let out.
Saving blogs into drafts and hiding my words is not how I should be handling this all.

But it's what I have to to keep some sanity,
if not to myself, but to mask the madness from others.

I'd rather not have even the closest of friends read, especially them.
Give reason for judgement.

But I promised a friend I'd change,
get over the "abandonment issues" and trust.

Personally, those "issues" are an excuse for behavior, but I've already told you about that a few months back.

We all have stories

I just choose to write mine down.

I'm not a miracle, you're not a saint.

I miss it there: no explosions, nothing left to shatter.


listening to: Amie - Damien Rice

If life is so short, and we've learned that, why is it we are still unable to ascertain the everyday ? After millions of years of evolution we still have difficulties handling something as small as a rude comment? Maybe that's a good thing. A sign of choice in an otherwise decided world.

Not much to write about lately.
Legs asleep, it's not like I've been given a chance to run with my thoughts.

It's time to live.

Time to stop regretting embarrassing moments,
and loving the people you shared them with.

Time to laugh at all the jokes,
not so others can hear, but to honestly smile.

Time to take chances everyday,
and fall in love with it.

I'm learning this week.
Learning to laugh, not too loud though.
Learning to love, no exceptions there.
Learning to live, every minute of every day.

It happens way too fast to be so negative about myself. Though I'm still going to be working on those things, theres alot of good things to focus on.

I hate who I'm becoming.

And I need to figure this all out before it gets any worse.

I laugh at jokes I don't find funny.
I talk too loud.
I don't focus on the person I'm talking to, I see who's all listening.
I'm not comfortable in my own skin.
I judge people too quickly.
I'm making enemies.
I act way too immature.
I'm not there for my friends as much as I'd like to be.
I'm becoming more and more selfish with my thoughts.
Life's speeding by and I'm making no effort to make the best of it.
I don't take chances.
I don't say how I truly feel.
I'm becoming way too materialistic.
I'm obnoxious.
I take everything I have in life for granted.
I don't try anymore.
I'm not even a good person.

You just have to cross your fingers and watch it all unfold, hoping for the best.

I put you through a lot of shit.

Drag you through the dirt and spin around a few times to see if your noticing.
But when I'm shoving you away--testing you--is when I really need you to stay.
It's when I really need you to tell me how ridiculous I'm being and be there for me.

Because you put up with alot, and I know that, but it's how I am and I want you to stay.
I need you to stay.

What do you do

when the ones you tell everything to, are the ones you can't face?

For the Friends.

My true colors are shining bright,
but can you stand the light?

I'm honest and mean well.
It may not show in person,
when I'm trying to hide my flaws and show people only the good.
But lately, I'm becoming a person doing the exact opposite.
I don't tell people how much they mean or always say my please and thank yous.
I don't like who I'm becoming.
Too open with my embarassments, they all too easily cover up my intentions.

Always know,
I don't mean to hurt you.
I don't mean the half of anything anymore.

It ruins everything in all the right ways.

Long weeks

pass fast.

Saltwater Laughing.

This waves crashing and ebbing,
running through the streams of the suburbs
and the lakes of calm country.
A single tear dropped into the pacific.
It travels through the riverbed,
swims with the dolphins and plays with the seals.
If God really does cry for us,
the ocean is a collection of his tears
for creating such beautiful fuck-ups.

Another night in their shadows.

I'm often

imagining how life could be for me.
I live in the future, ignoring the moment.

Time for change.
Things will happen when they need to.

I love this.

Sleep comes easy tonight,
dreams come in color.
Dreams I remember.

Life's moving so much faster now.
A blur of days, a week is over before I have a chance to wrap my head around it.

I'm looking up,

and the ceilings are disappearing.
So many new ways of looking at the world.

Once I let you in,

I promise it's worth it.
Please promise you'll stay.

Love

it's a hard word for me to say.
A taboo.
I feel as if once I utter the simple syllable, everything will fall apart.
Too good to be true, by adding that weight, the hammock with break.

And then what will I have?
So I choose love carefully,
but should I say it?

Could I possibly speak it into existence?

How could four letters possibly cause so much confusion?

A Face

Two eyes,
a nose,
a mouth.

All we are is just a collection of similar attributes.
Who decides beauty?

She was laughing.
Arms flying through the air,
figure eights and glowsticks,
everythings neon -- dancing in the dark.
She lets it all go, stretching her limits.
Free reign.

Happiness as it seems,

is a good thing.
It's a thing I have.


I write of love and promiscuity, things I don't know of.
It's easy for me to play pretend.
I write of sadness because I drudge it out of my heart, but I often ignore the smiles.


It's a constant for me to have my cheeks blushed with laughter. So even in my most honest moments: things may not always be as I feel, things may not always be as I write them.

What a life I chose.

I still feel sane, still feel sure.
I'm still crazy, still nervous.

It's a mood swing taking me far.
Which makes me worse: nobody can see it on the outside.
It's all just held in, let out all at once.

And when nobody's looking, it all comes undone.

It's a burden I slap onto others just by being near.
Nobody wants this, and it's not right for me to infect them.

Make a wish,

and make it count.


Today was a good day,
friends and family: what else is there?

Sixteen Candles

With each blow of the flame, I wish for the better.
But it seems that no matter how many candles flicker away,
No matter how much pocket change I spend in fountains,
Countless days of 11:11 and  whispering into dandelions,

I always find a way to screw it up.
Wishes are wasted and dreams are destroyed with each try.

I guess I'm just not meant to be happy.

Punishment for smiles, everything comes crashing down at once.

Mental Block

Subconsciously, I must not want to share this feeling.

I love the days

with the rain running down my face,
hair soaked and clothes drenched,
but I still feel incredibely warm.

The days where makeup becomes a thing of the past,
and I forget all about looking perfect,
I feel beautiful just being around them.

The days where hanging out with my friends
will always triumph over homework,
yet I still find time to do it.

These are the days I remember.

Perfection

may not be possible, but my life is getting close to it.
I'm so lucky for all the people in it and how things are going.
One things missing, something that I spend my time craving.

But hey, nothings perfect, right?

Sepia-toned Loving.

They met young, laughed til the night fell on them.
He was brave and outspoken; she delicate and proper.
But he made his way into her dreams that night.
Intertwining their fingers, soon it all became real.
Through the years, they made their impacts.
He gave her courage, she gave him love.
Waking next to her gave him a gift far more than words could threaten.
So when she did not wake, he cried a little, reminisced a little, then he himself fell asleep; a smile on his lips.
Dreaming with her forever. 

It's not a molded ending, no immediate happiness for the intolerant ones.
But soon enough you'll understand: he was with her, she was with him: what more could they have asked for?

Writing

to let it out is the real medicine, not laughing or crying or talking.
But, then again, I would have nothing to write about without those things.

Money makes the world go mad.

I Promise

that everythings changing, and I really like it.

Not a new way of looking at the world, but an improvement.
They've been there all along, just now they're more pronounced.
But I can't let the rest fall into the background.

I don't care what you think, I just wonder.

Edge of Innocence

At what age does "duh" become a nonexistent word and "no shit" take its place?

Unspoken Truths

"We never feel the same emotion twice:
No two ships ever ploughed the selfsame billow.
The waters change, with every fall and rise;
So, Guilo, go contented to thy pillow."

-Ella Wheeler Wilcox

My ancestor.

 
I become more and more proud of my blog and how brutally honest I am every post.

And since we're being honest:
I deleted a post the other day,
I was riding a tide of emotion I'm not yet ready to share with people, but one day I may come across something similar.

Talk is Cheap,

trust only in the pinky promise.

These can be judged as the words of a naive little girl,
or they can be the truth of a girl hoping for the best in people.
Which, in all honesty, may make me naive.

I think too much

and at times, too less.

Overthinking the small and spurting out the big.
While the other one is in my mouth, I always have one foot on the ground keeping me steady.

But it's getting harder and harder to keep my balance.