I wish there was a hint of want in me to tell you
That all of this is because I’m exhausted
Instead I rather see you fight the days you miss me
Because it makes me feel important
So, when you’re fed up and wiping tears away
Just remember that I was honest
If I told the truth about nothing else,
At least I was honest about being dishonest.
Friday, April 13, 2012
April 12, 2012
Everything started off in less than vivid shades of black, grey, and white. Sunsets were beautiful because they were natural phenomena, but colorless ones that didn’t seem bland until I met you. Staring at stars was a nightly ritual for me. The stars were magical and because of that they were beautiful. I didn’t know then that I hadn’t known real beauty. Then, I met you. The sea had always been a vast wonder, but I didn’t know the deepness of it’s colors. I only knew that when I looked down upon it I could see my reflection and when I looked out at it’s lengths I would feel so small.
People told me that the texture of money and the reflective property of gold were the characteristics of the only things that make happiness real. I had seen sunsets, star-filled night skies, and the sea, the seemingly endless sea, but I still believed their theory of real happiness. Then, I met you.
You were glowing lavender and I instantly fell in love with color. In the first moment, like the medieval, I declared that you were etheric; the composition of everything I had ever seen and known. You filled up all of the space in between the stars and made them. You made up the moon, the sun, and earth for me. I could now see the sunset in all of it’s radiant colors and the contrast of the sparkling stars against the midnight sky, but now your lavender aura preceded the beauty of the world. Even the blues and greens I could finally see that flowed and crashed against the unforgiving sand in foamy white wonder wasn’t enough for me. All because when I looked down on the sea’s glass-like surface I could no longer see the reflection of myself. I could only see the reflection of you staring back at me. It’s lengths were no longer enough to make me feel small because meeting you made me feel so enormously full of love.
Meeting you showed me that those people were oblivious. There was no way they had ever experienced true love because all I had to do was meet you to know the characteristics of what actually makes happiness real.
People told me that the texture of money and the reflective property of gold were the characteristics of the only things that make happiness real. I had seen sunsets, star-filled night skies, and the sea, the seemingly endless sea, but I still believed their theory of real happiness. Then, I met you.
You were glowing lavender and I instantly fell in love with color. In the first moment, like the medieval, I declared that you were etheric; the composition of everything I had ever seen and known. You filled up all of the space in between the stars and made them. You made up the moon, the sun, and earth for me. I could now see the sunset in all of it’s radiant colors and the contrast of the sparkling stars against the midnight sky, but now your lavender aura preceded the beauty of the world. Even the blues and greens I could finally see that flowed and crashed against the unforgiving sand in foamy white wonder wasn’t enough for me. All because when I looked down on the sea’s glass-like surface I could no longer see the reflection of myself. I could only see the reflection of you staring back at me. It’s lengths were no longer enough to make me feel small because meeting you made me feel so enormously full of love.
Meeting you showed me that those people were oblivious. There was no way they had ever experienced true love because all I had to do was meet you to know the characteristics of what actually makes happiness real.
April 12, 2012
I wrote today and it was the worst writing I’ve done in a while. I’m rusty and washed up. I need motivation and a muse. Being alone and happy doesn’t help fuel my writing whatsoever. It’s as if I forget all of the pain and happiness brought to me by different people. I simply move on with my life and leave it all behind. Does this mean that no one resonates with me? Or that I have been blocking everyone out to save myself the head or heart aches that come along with emotions and emotional attachment, and in turn jeopardized my creative abilities?
I’ll blame it on being tired and distracted either way, but I think I’m slowly figuring myself out. I think I use people for self satisfaction. The attention, affection, moments, and everything in between are things I desire because they move me. Otherwise, I feel unaffected by life. In a sense I feel numb most of the time and people make me feel, momentarily anyway. That seems to be all I want anymore. I want the moments and their emotions for me, but not the person. I never want the person. How selfish of me to be cruel enough to use someone for their attention and emotions knowing that I, most likely, will not actually want the person in the end.
I’m selfishly feeding my ego by draining it out of other people. The transparent “happiness” that I derive from that is worthless in the end. It escapes me.
I have got a lot to work on and figure out about myself. I’d be less of a bitch if I could drop my ego and my need to feed it. Back to where this started off, I think I’d be more creative because I wouldn’t need a single motivation or muse as much. I’d be driven by everything around me that I hadn’t noticed before.
I’ll blame it on being tired and distracted either way, but I think I’m slowly figuring myself out. I think I use people for self satisfaction. The attention, affection, moments, and everything in between are things I desire because they move me. Otherwise, I feel unaffected by life. In a sense I feel numb most of the time and people make me feel, momentarily anyway. That seems to be all I want anymore. I want the moments and their emotions for me, but not the person. I never want the person. How selfish of me to be cruel enough to use someone for their attention and emotions knowing that I, most likely, will not actually want the person in the end.
I’m selfishly feeding my ego by draining it out of other people. The transparent “happiness” that I derive from that is worthless in the end. It escapes me.
I have got a lot to work on and figure out about myself. I’d be less of a bitch if I could drop my ego and my need to feed it. Back to where this started off, I think I’d be more creative because I wouldn’t need a single motivation or muse as much. I’d be driven by everything around me that I hadn’t noticed before.
March 5, 2012
That feeling, that wonderful and terrible feeling of being tightly wound in your arms and pushing your hair back knowing that I may be the one to hurt you because I’m too shallow. I’m a puddle trying to be an ocean for you. It will take me a long time to accumulate enough depth to be able to accept you for everything you are and everything you are not. I grew up an asshole in a asshole place and no you aren’t perfect enough to fit into the mold I’m trying to place you in so others will accept you, too. I still care about what other people think and I’m an asshole for that. I’m not perfect enough to take you for the good and the bad. I’ll give up like I always do. The only thing I wonder is why I don’t just give up on you now before I hurt you. Yes, I’m that selfish. Yes, I’m that shallow. I keep holding you here without enough depth to submerge you in me. I keep pretending I’m an ocean for you, but I know soon enough you’ll stand up and realize the feet I promised you were only inches. I keep trying, but I don’t know if I can give you more that even though I feel for you so deeply.
February 26, 2012
Even if I disappear because I know you won’t let me come back, I won’t forget the way the birthmarks on your back feel under my fingertips. The way I can tell you like me to push your hair back and kiss your forehead. The way you like to hold my hand especially when you’re driving. The way you have to hop to keep up with me because you’re so small, but the way you also make me feel small in a good way. The way you pronounce your words in such a way that no one could ever mistake you for a brash New Yorker. The way you are so damn rough and not smooth at all. The way you never judge me so it reminds me to work on not judging you for anything (physically/mentally) or anyone. The way I’ve never wanted to talk to someone all the time the way I do with you and how you brought back me loving to talk on the phone for hours. The way you look in your uniform and the way it brings out your blue eyes. The way you look in your bathroom with your blonde hair down because it’s always wrapped up. The way you make me so happy that I’ve finally found someone I can have an intelligent conversation with. The way you are so completely different from anyone I’ve ever spent my time seeing. The way you love your job even when you hate it and the way you open me up to it. The way you open every door, always pick me up, and refuse to let me pay for anything. I can’t keep going without sounding like I’m in love and I’m not in love, but I appreciate you. I notice you and all the little things that make you. I want to keep you, but I’m a realist.
October 21, 2011
The lies are like toxins that never leave your body,
You know nothing about redemption.
You kiss like you’re up to no good,
You hold like nothing is permanent,
And your eyes say that you’re used to getting your way.
You know nothing about redemption.
You kiss like you’re up to no good,
You hold like nothing is permanent,
And your eyes say that you’re used to getting your way.
November 5, 2011
At the very tip of my spine
I can feel the wretched scrunching of my hope
Right before it reaches my skull
My brain can’t even sip it.
My shoulders have no rest,
They rise to my ears in scrutiny of the life before me.
They say, “you should of, could of”
And I say, “I would of”
To no avail, they stay lifted to the sky in pain. I feel like a puppet now.
I could say I hadn’t a clue of what would come or what could of came if I ignored it all, but I knew.
I acknowledged laziness, and the world spun around me like moments seized with no work and all play.
Now, that time has caught up to me.
I’m so stern, so uninviting, and all of the pent up anger seeps out through my pores.
Everyone can smell it on me.
So, some push farther away and some inch and leap forward on top of me.
You would think that my attempt to become equidistant from everyone would prevail.
But everyone wants to know and everyone has something to say and no one understands, but they’re all looking in on the show.
And, mostly, I just wish I was mute
Because to explain a story is to ruin it
And all of the pieces don’t yet fit.
No matter how much I keep hoping for an alternate ending,
I keep pushing in the opposite direction,
Opposing myself in the most forceful way,
Thinking I’m taking the path of least resistance,
But there is no relief here.
I can feel the wretched scrunching of my hope
Right before it reaches my skull
My brain can’t even sip it.
My shoulders have no rest,
They rise to my ears in scrutiny of the life before me.
They say, “you should of, could of”
And I say, “I would of”
To no avail, they stay lifted to the sky in pain. I feel like a puppet now.
I could say I hadn’t a clue of what would come or what could of came if I ignored it all, but I knew.
I acknowledged laziness, and the world spun around me like moments seized with no work and all play.
Now, that time has caught up to me.
I’m so stern, so uninviting, and all of the pent up anger seeps out through my pores.
Everyone can smell it on me.
So, some push farther away and some inch and leap forward on top of me.
You would think that my attempt to become equidistant from everyone would prevail.
But everyone wants to know and everyone has something to say and no one understands, but they’re all looking in on the show.
And, mostly, I just wish I was mute
Because to explain a story is to ruin it
And all of the pieces don’t yet fit.
No matter how much I keep hoping for an alternate ending,
I keep pushing in the opposite direction,
Opposing myself in the most forceful way,
Thinking I’m taking the path of least resistance,
But there is no relief here.
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