i went to town today.
i was heading for the library, but found something better.
racks of books, 10 cents each.
i loaded up on old romance novels, murder mysteries, comic books, and tales from the wild west. i kind of can't wait to read them.
really.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
sometimes..
sometimes when i think of you, i think you're perfect.
but that's not really true..
i think it always.
and every night i write to you. well, really just your name at the top of the page.
and i try so hard, but there's nothing i could say, as perfect as you.
and i try so hard because i know that you and beauty are the same, and all i ever wanted was to make something beautiful.
but then you left.
now there is a hole in the universe shaped like you.
with time, it's grown very small and i think of it seldom anymore.
it just aches a little sometimes. like a phantom limb.
when it rains outside, and i am drawn to think of the past.
but that's ok.
these things only serve to make you stronger in the end.
though i think we all know i'd rather have you back.
i tried so hard to make something beautiful.
and let me tell you, sad is not beautiful. sad is sad.
night is night and day is day.
it's too bad we can't read each others minds.
but that's not really true..
i think it always.
and every night i write to you. well, really just your name at the top of the page.
and i try so hard, but there's nothing i could say, as perfect as you.
and i try so hard because i know that you and beauty are the same, and all i ever wanted was to make something beautiful.
but then you left.
now there is a hole in the universe shaped like you.
with time, it's grown very small and i think of it seldom anymore.
it just aches a little sometimes. like a phantom limb.
when it rains outside, and i am drawn to think of the past.
but that's ok.
these things only serve to make you stronger in the end.
though i think we all know i'd rather have you back.
i tried so hard to make something beautiful.
and let me tell you, sad is not beautiful. sad is sad.
night is night and day is day.
it's too bad we can't read each others minds.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
looking back.
cold breeze, scattered conversations. my afternoons are seldom exciting. i always notice you though, feel your prescence, almost. I know when you're near, i know the sound of your foot steps, and i can feel the weight of your breath. You never look at me anymore, so i can stare all i please, because your eyes never wander my way. your deep, brown eyes. on the rare occasion our gaze meets, you look right through me, as if i'm not even there. i just want you to see me. i wish i had something to say to you, but i never do. our conversations (initiated only by me) never last more than a couple minutes, and we don't connect on a higher level like we used to. the flame has stopped sparking, and the fires about to burn out. this is my last chance.
i need you, so much. im almost surprised that i have the strength to see you every day, when all i want is to hold you, touch you, hear your voice, see you laugh. my bones are collapsing. this is my last chance.
i go through my day, every day, wandering in a daze. a half-awakened state where nothing seems real, nothing feels real. they say i'm coming on too strong, but it's all i have left. i cant just sit around anymore and watch you. watch. watch. watch. it's all i do. i don't know if you notice, i don't know if they notice, but i'm always watching you. from the corner of my eye, i see you talk to that girl who's so much prettier and more charismatic than i am. i could see you dating her, from the way she acts and smiles and undresses you with her eyes. maybe the sleep deprivation is driving me insane, but i don't see you opening up emotionally to these girls.
we hung out a few days ago. it was awkward, the good kind, and maybe even a little of the bad kind. i just wanted to kiss you and hug you and tell you how much i've missed you and how i've stayed up three, four nights in a row crying and how my ribs ache, and my bones shake without you. but.. instead i politely smile and ask you about your day, and how you've been. i already know everything you're going to say.
i've tried, i really have, no matter how much i didn't want to, i have tried. i've walked, and thought and wrote and painted. my walks ended up in me running home in tears, my thoughts are a mess, my writing is empty, and my paintings are shit. i still have so much of nothing, because so much of something has always been you.
i have attacks every now and then, and i really feel like i'm going to die. my bones rattle, my hands shake, my stomach churns, i puke and cry, and feel empty. and you know, the friends, they worry, i think sometimes. and they ask me if i'm alright, and they tell me to talk about how i feel. but i can see it in their eyes, and i can hear it in their tone, they're sick of hearing me talk about the same thing. so i just smile, and say im fine, and i laugh and make a joke.
and everything's okay for a little while.
i need you, so much. im almost surprised that i have the strength to see you every day, when all i want is to hold you, touch you, hear your voice, see you laugh. my bones are collapsing. this is my last chance.
i go through my day, every day, wandering in a daze. a half-awakened state where nothing seems real, nothing feels real. they say i'm coming on too strong, but it's all i have left. i cant just sit around anymore and watch you. watch. watch. watch. it's all i do. i don't know if you notice, i don't know if they notice, but i'm always watching you. from the corner of my eye, i see you talk to that girl who's so much prettier and more charismatic than i am. i could see you dating her, from the way she acts and smiles and undresses you with her eyes. maybe the sleep deprivation is driving me insane, but i don't see you opening up emotionally to these girls.
we hung out a few days ago. it was awkward, the good kind, and maybe even a little of the bad kind. i just wanted to kiss you and hug you and tell you how much i've missed you and how i've stayed up three, four nights in a row crying and how my ribs ache, and my bones shake without you. but.. instead i politely smile and ask you about your day, and how you've been. i already know everything you're going to say.
i've tried, i really have, no matter how much i didn't want to, i have tried. i've walked, and thought and wrote and painted. my walks ended up in me running home in tears, my thoughts are a mess, my writing is empty, and my paintings are shit. i still have so much of nothing, because so much of something has always been you.
i have attacks every now and then, and i really feel like i'm going to die. my bones rattle, my hands shake, my stomach churns, i puke and cry, and feel empty. and you know, the friends, they worry, i think sometimes. and they ask me if i'm alright, and they tell me to talk about how i feel. but i can see it in their eyes, and i can hear it in their tone, they're sick of hearing me talk about the same thing. so i just smile, and say im fine, and i laugh and make a joke.
and everything's okay for a little while.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
spring was...
awful.
it's such a shame how time flies. my head is empty, and my thoughts are non-sensical.
non-sensical nonsense for thoughts, joy. this city's a mess and i just want to get out. you hold me back, and even though in my heart i feel that nothing will ever become of us, of this. i want to stay, just to be near you. be close to you. the other one is telling me something about his past, and his old, trouble-some ways, and i'm on the brink of tearing up, but i hold it in. 'oh' i say. i send a little heart, it's the only emotion i have left. a little pixelated less than three.
'don't, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger.' he says
fucking weak. thats how that makes me feel. im swallowing the vomit back again. this is the fifth day i've tasted puke in my mouth, and the in five days, i've already thrown up twice. i hate myself sometime, i really do. how i look, my teeth, my skin, my wirey hair, my face, the arches of my back, and the tilt of my hips. i hate my knobly knees, the way my nails never grow because i bite them before they have a chance too. i hate the curve of my toes, and the way my belly button is neither an innie, or an outie. i hate the sound of my voice, or how my eyes droop down at the sides. i loathe myself everyday, because i can't stand the person i am, and i don't know how to change. i need to get out of the house, even though it's quite becoming.
our song plays. fuck you itunes shuffle. next.
this room, this prison, these four walls are where i am and where i will stay. objects collecting dust, and i collect with them. i take a break because the bile in my mouth won't go back down, and i force it with water. i lost my colours. i'm not the cute, intelligent, shy and curious child i once was. i've started sneaking cancer sticks from my mom, she buys them in packs of 5. a pack is gone, i don't know where. i buy a pack from the candy store, in a few days its non-existant. i'm always showering, trying to wash the dirt, and guilt of my body. i spent the night in some other town you know, a while back? and he was always on my mind. nothing happened, almost.
wash the dirt and guilt, but it's funny how the stains just won't go.
it's such a shame how time flies. my head is empty, and my thoughts are non-sensical.
non-sensical nonsense for thoughts, joy. this city's a mess and i just want to get out. you hold me back, and even though in my heart i feel that nothing will ever become of us, of this. i want to stay, just to be near you. be close to you. the other one is telling me something about his past, and his old, trouble-some ways, and i'm on the brink of tearing up, but i hold it in. 'oh' i say. i send a little heart, it's the only emotion i have left. a little pixelated less than three.
'don't, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger.' he says
fucking weak. thats how that makes me feel. im swallowing the vomit back again. this is the fifth day i've tasted puke in my mouth, and the in five days, i've already thrown up twice. i hate myself sometime, i really do. how i look, my teeth, my skin, my wirey hair, my face, the arches of my back, and the tilt of my hips. i hate my knobly knees, the way my nails never grow because i bite them before they have a chance too. i hate the curve of my toes, and the way my belly button is neither an innie, or an outie. i hate the sound of my voice, or how my eyes droop down at the sides. i loathe myself everyday, because i can't stand the person i am, and i don't know how to change. i need to get out of the house, even though it's quite becoming.
our song plays. fuck you itunes shuffle. next.
this room, this prison, these four walls are where i am and where i will stay. objects collecting dust, and i collect with them. i take a break because the bile in my mouth won't go back down, and i force it with water. i lost my colours. i'm not the cute, intelligent, shy and curious child i once was. i've started sneaking cancer sticks from my mom, she buys them in packs of 5. a pack is gone, i don't know where. i buy a pack from the candy store, in a few days its non-existant. i'm always showering, trying to wash the dirt, and guilt of my body. i spent the night in some other town you know, a while back? and he was always on my mind. nothing happened, almost.
wash the dirt and guilt, but it's funny how the stains just won't go.
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