Bored

wanting so much more from this life, but encountering obstacles at every turn and seeing no way around, under, or over them

Books

So many fucking books.
All over my sanctuary.

I'm trying to hide them. Find places to keep them. Away from other's eyes.
But mostly away from my own.

Sicklove

Being in love with you is like having a chronic illness.

You're fine, you're dandy, you're living you see him and then suddenly...
Your world has changed directions and you're sicker than you've ever been before.
And you stay so very sick for so very long.
And you spend so many nights sitting along at home wishing you were better
Wishing you could heal.
There are of course points of light.
That first hug, that night under the stars, every breath you take in his presence.
Is like have waves of healing washed over you.
But then the next morning, when you wake up
And wonder if it was just a particularly vivid dream
And you can still hear his voice in your head
You feel sickness well up inside you like a flood
And you feel lower than you ever have before.

Time passes. And, like they say, time heals.
Reason intervenes. Spending all this time being sick is a waste.
So you pick up and move on and 'be friends.'
You live life again.
And you're changed, and you hope it's for the better.

But there are relapses.
And they're terrible.
The moment you get home from sleeping in his arms.
As 'friends.'
And you realize how very perfect he is
And suddenly you're sick and dying all over again.

The moment you realize that sweater you threw on his floor
Smells of him.
And you bury your face in it and inhale the scent of death and disease.
And tears come to your eyes because you don't fucking want to live this way anymore.

The thing about chronic illnesses, though
Is that you either get better
Or you die.

Really Weird Dreams

Two drawings. One happy face, one sad face. Taped to the bars.
"Who did this? Who was it?"
No answer.
Trying to remember. Previous conversation. Asked me to pick.
:(? :)?
Walking away. The boy walks up to me. I ask if it was him.
"No, but you should pick :)"
Confused as hell, but since I like him, maybe I'll pick :)
But then the other boy comes up to me.
"I made the :( drawing. You should pick it. I'll give you my hat."
"Okay."
I wear the big black hat. It covers all my hair.
I feel bad.
But it feels good.

Strain

If you're on my side, get off my effing case.
Seriously, things with him are difficult as it is.
And you make it so much worse.

But if he doesn't want to be friends with me because of my parents, then that's his prerogative.
Because as long as I lived under this roof, I have to choose them first.

Even if I don't want to.

Season's Greetings

Merry Christmas
To the frustrating friend who broke my heart for the thousandth time and healed it again in less than twenty-four hours
Merry Christmas
To the former best friend who can still occasionally be fantastic
Merry Christmas
To the oldest text-obsessed friend who is pretty much always fantastic
Merry Christmas
To the emotionless friend whom I will one day soften up
Merry Christmas
To the friend who should know everything about me, and now does.
Merry Christmas
To the new friend whom I will no longer be awkward with
Merry Christmas
To the far-away friend that I'm still in love with on occasion
Merry Christmas
To the friend whom I already miss and can't wait to show my new iPod to
Merry Christmas
To the almost-friend I really want to fall in love with this year.
And have him fall back in love
With me.

Let Me Know When You Melt

It's December 23rd
And I don't know what to do
Cause you don't care
But, all I want is you

You're five seconds away
But it's never seemed so far
Now that the snow's been
Piled in my heart

And I look back
And I see you
And you're silent

Maybe I'm imagining things,
But weren't we real good friends?
Talked about, well, everything
Together til the end?
But dude, you know it's Christmas
And you're frozen again
So when you
Feel like
Growin' up
Please just tell me when.

It's December 24th
And I'm skatin' on thin ice
Cause I'm thinkin' it's my fault
I haven't exactly been nice

Perhaps it's just the fact
I'm not exciting enough to know
Nah, I'm thinking it's cause your
Head is full of snow

And I'm checking
And I'm waiting
But you don't call

Maybe I'm imagining things
But weren't we real good friends?
I never thought that I
Would have to do this all again
But dude, you know it's Christmas
And you're frozen again
So if you ever
Feel like
Growin' up
Maybe tell me when.

And I feel like whenever we get close
Something screws it up
And I know I should forget you
But I really
Don't know
How

It's Christmas mornin'
And I really need you here
But you know, that might
Confirm my greatest fear

That I imagined all those things
We were never real good friends
Maybe we talked about everything
But never til the end
And yeah, I know it's Christmas
And you would be frozen again
So if you
Ever
Feel like
Growin' up
Ever
Feel like
Growin' up
Ever feel like growin' up...
You could tell me when

Tell me when
Dah dah dah dah
Yeah, you could tell me
You know, if you wanted to.

Mouse

i am small
so very small
sometimes i'm really scared of living

Fucking Weather

All my fantastic plans have been buried in a two foot pile of snow.

The Puppet

tying her goddamn strings to me
making me dance
over and over and over
and when i try to escape
she gets mad
and she pulls harder

then she gets mad i won't dance on my own
how am i supposed to
when i've never been given the chance to practice on my own?

dumb strings
one day, i'll set 'em on fire

Two Years, Three Months, and Seventeen Days

You would fucking deserve it if I left this second and never came back.
You would.
You tell me I don't have life experience to deal with things, yet you never give me the chance to make my own decisions and learn from my own mistakes and GAIN life experience.
You are the main cause of pain and drama in my life. So I avoid you.
Then you wonder why I hate you so much.
You are just a storm of contradictions and I am so done with being your fucking daughter.

Figures

It took two and a half shots, eight centimetres of snow and a few minutes in a dark basement for me to realize I was probably still in love with you.
And I broke down.

Because my heart was already broken, and I don't know how to protect it anymore.

Negotiations

Why can't you be perfect?
Is that too much to ask?

No, wait, not even perfect.
You have to be more like him.
More reserved, kinder, warmer
And no more drugs

It wouldn't be that hard
I could help you
I really like you, you know
We could be really cute together
There are just a few things you need to improve on
Which I have mentioned above

I'll fix myself up too, if you want
I'll care less about school, I'll be a bit wilder
I'll even try to be hot
Although, I'm not sure how easily that can be done
You might have to settle for cute?
How about
If you settle for cute, I'll settle for you being a little callous at times
Sounds good?
I think so.

Well, Yeah

I guess you could say a best friendship is 100% finished when you get to the point where you no longer feel compelled to tell the person every single detail of your day.
Because she wasn't there.
And if she really was your best friend, she would've been.

And in fact, you really can't be bother to explain it all again.

Acceptance

I like how things are comfortable
I like how you think of me often
I like not worrying about what you'll think
I like being over you
I like loving you, and having you love me back

I don't miss knowing I'd never have a chance
I don't miss hiding things from you
I don't miss the incessant jealousy
I don't miss the awkwardness

But I miss the nights I'd go home needing to scream with joy
I miss the nights I'd lie in bed unable to sleep because of you
I miss how every song suited you
I miss how every moment with you seemed like a miracle
I miss the roller coaster rush
I miss the beautiful moments we had together
I miss how in love I was

The truth is, a few years ago, someone like you would've only existed in my fantasies.
But here you are, and you taught me how much I could feel.

If I'm a hundred percent honest, I miss being in love with you.

Dust

Morning
Class
Walk
Boiler Room

Sigh
Dusty
Old
Memories

Laugh
Smile
Touch
Sort through

See
Stop
Stare
Can't breathe

It's her dress.
The one she wore.
So very long ago.
The one that touched her beautiful skin.
The one that occasionally fell open.
The one that was HERS.
With her name still perfectly attached.
Preserved perfectly.
Like a terrible, horrible, wonderful memory.

The scream is so hard to contain.

Week Thoughts

When I awake and the world is frozen and silent, and my breath comes in clouds, I watch the sun rise like a wildfire and I know that somewhere, somehow, something really special is happening.

She's a dream character, that's what she is. I know because these days I only see her when I fall asleep, and I wake up with tears in my eyes and the perfect song in my head and this throbbing in my heart.

I think we should make more times for naps such as these, because it is so easy to feel at peace when your body is surrounded by such an important person and you can feel them breathing and assure yourself they're very much alive and existing.

Playing piano is sort of like transferring the music of my soul out into sounds. And usually I'm not quite sure what my soul sounds like, because it's changing a lot and, well, I'm still learning about it, so sometimes I find other people's music that seems to fit pretty well, and play it to be at peace with the world.

Why is winter so dark all the time, someone asked me once. I don't remember my answer, but if I had been thinking straight that day, it would probably be: to remind you how wonderful the light is.

Sometimes I ask myself why I spend so much time writing, and I think it's probably because things don't make sense in my head until I put them somewhere.

I think I always sort of assumed I was shy and would never get any braver, but then I kissed his cheek and remembered what a big deal that was four years ago, and suddenly I realized just exactly how far I've come.

I've noticed that most songs these days are love songs, and that seems reasonable to me because I don't think there could possibly be anything as big and monumental and incredible as love in the whole entire universe, and sometimes, if I'm lucky, I can see a tiny bit of it in your eyes.

I've decided the most important things in the world these days are relationships, love, music and inner peace.
...Knowing me, that'll have changed by tomorrow.

I've noticed I keep saying 'I' a lot. One might think that makes me selfish, but I say, who do I know better or spend more time with than myself?

Mute Girl

There's a girl who lives here
And she has a sickness
And she can't speak
And she opens her mouth but all that comes out is the breath
And that's the breath that's keeping her diseased life running
And so it's an endless cycle, you see
Breath. Silence. Breath. Silence.

The girl's lonely
And lonely as she stares at her reflection in the glass lake water
And lonely as the sun sets on her head once again
And setting her mind on fire
And she kneels in the dirt
And she doesn't cry because she's too quiet for that
It gives too much away

Sometimes people wander by her
And she's desperate for them
And desperate for them to fix her disease
And the disease that tingles in her mouth
And decomposes in her heart
And no one stays long enough
They aren't ready to repair something like that

She sees the boy sometimes
And she wants him to come
And wrap his eternal arms
And his boundless love
And surround her
And for once she doesn't have to love
And the voice will surge up from inside her
Like an ocean

Words Out

Walking.
Normal.
Her.
Close friends.
"I-"

Tell.
Say.
Open.
Words together.
"--'m"

Panic.
Scary.
Awkward.
Can't do it.
"Nevermind."

Time

Sometimes it washes over me like an ocean, when I'm not quite expecting it.
"You're alive."
And then the worries crawl in like bugs...
amidoingitrightshitwhydidntiomgwhatifinevershitshitshitimnotgoodenoughandimgonnafailitsinevitable

Makes for a good song, though.