Giving (you) up

Sad songs have been my serenade for longer than it takes for a scab to fall off on its own.
I havent felt wind for a fortnight.
Obviously, the lamplight is a memory.
Risk a smile break a tie,
look up into blue green eyes.

Terms of Endearment

It is like sublimely stumbling through the woods at night;
The moon beams only shine straight into my irises every now and again.
Sometimes I shudder, I shatter as the cold air seeps through my veins and fills my lungs
Like balloons; it freezes my mind and I fall.
On the forest floor I grasp and pull at the ropes and roots and weeds for a glimpse
Of the water table, only to find myself
Up to an arm in gravel and mud.
But I do climb trees and see silhouettes and my knees do bend,
Sometimes.
Sometimes,
I think you are watching me, weaving through the branches that spark like synapses
Inside this forest of delusional dreams and nonsensical nostalgia; time is nonexistent here so stay.
I can see for miles and miles,
Over the hills and through the leaves,
But I can only sprint so far,
And my footsteps can barely begin to trace paths through the sparkle of spiders’ webs.

Made of Glass

Look me in the eye and know just how I feel because
I have broken and been broken alike.
Behind the shine of laughter and the crinkled nose
My eyes are mosaics and if you focus you can see your reflection
If you shatter these walls (they're only made of glass, you know)
I could be an ocean,
Or a parachute,
Or a deck of cards.
But hearts will be broken if you do as I ask.

Uncharted Places

I open up and shout
But no one turns around
And it's weird cuz I thought I was loud
He might not look you in the eye
But count yourself lucky if he's there to admire
Cuz I swear it's like a whisper in my ear
You were gone with a flicker and a flash and a fear
Of falling too hard
And breaking my heart
Beginning to start
And mapping uncharted palces
Uncharted places
The bottom of the ocean and the stars and the sand
Will never be explored until you're holding my hand
Love is a trick and life is a race
Inhibition is confusion and peace is a place
How can
You stand on
Broken shards of glass from your own two hands
How can
You stand on
Broken shards of glass from your own two hands
You don't even know
You pack up the show
Hurt me how you will
I know for a fact that you've been trained to kill.
The bottom of the ocean and the stars and the sand
Will never be explored until you're holding my hand
How can
You stand on
Broken shards of glass from your own two hands
Love is a trick and life is a race
Every hand holds a gun and peace is an uncharted place.

Ricochet

When I remember sitting in my best friends backyard, pretending we were brave sorceresses and carving words onto wood, it's easy to ignore the fact that not many people want to please me.
Few who smile do so because I am near and few who talk do so in the hope I will lend an ear.
I have learned to live with being honest with everyone,
and with tucking a stray hair back as the wind whips it loose.
I don't imagine myself imagining you watching me, anymore, really.
Because we're all just trying to get by here, right?
Every soul has a song, and even if spirits aren't real I have evidence of the music they reflect.
I'm going to tell you something true.
It's not fucking worth it to look over your shoulder, because you're only delaying the force that is going to overtake you sooner or later when your legs gets tired and your breath falls short of where your mind wants to take you.
And frankly, you just look like a fucking idiot.
Let it go and shout in front of people and kick a dandelion, for heaven's sake!
I like who I am, so don't say my name and cover your face and glance around you... haven't you ever stopped to wonder what it would be like to be who and how you wanted?
People can tell.
I can tell.
I can't make someone fall in love with me, and the most satisfying part of that is how they manage it anyway.

Shattering and Shuddering

The blur of a lamp
In the evening afterglow go

Satin and sashes and patterns
The gloves.

Tomorrow
Slip in the fingers and tug, tug, tug
On, on, on

Wool
She wraps

Into the boots go the toes
(Tug on.)

Crunch shoveling thing

The difference between the the scrape and the scrub can be found
in this place.

Shattering and shuddering,
We are,
Most sincerly,
stuttering.

A Very Random Post of Which There Shall Hopefully be More of in the Future.

So my house is full of smoke because my mom is making pork that has a alliterative title that I do not recall. The weather is being scary. And so I thought it would be nice to tell everyone about how I want to make this blog more snarky. Because, I mean, who doesn't love a snarky blogger? I recently discovered OH MY GOSH THE LIGHTNING IS LIKE A FREAKING CAMERA FLASH EVERY FIVE SECONDS I FEAR FOR MY LIFE. Ok so anyway I just discovered this freelance writer named Dan Bergstein. He does book reveiws and random posts for the SparkLife blog, affiliated with SparkNotes. And he's freaking hilarious. So google him. Yeah. And in case anyone cares my two favorite songs of the moment are Never Gonna Happen by Lily Allen and Beautifully by Jay Brannan. That is all. Unless you want me to tell you about how I spent my afternoon gluing random things to cardboard and listening to cheeky swear-a-lot Britpop. Which you probably don't. So bye.

Dare (surprise, another song)

Dig through the mess and the dirt and the dress of the night
Search through the multitude no one is nowhere in sight
Push past the people don’t listen you don’t have the right
Flare up the flame and get ready to burn out the light.
No one is spared
Everyone’s there
Life isn’t fair
Don’t ever dare.
Dress up your wounds like you dress up your words and fight back
If you do not sleep again no one will ever attack
Ashes have fallen they stuck so now everything’s black
Hike up your bag put your foot down and start down the tracks
No one is spared
Everyone’s there
Life isn’t fair
Don’t ever dare.
This was no accident
This was His game
To be played
And we played
Don’t ever dare
Don’t ever dare
No one is spared

Verse 2 and choral reprise of the aforeaforementioned song, which by the way is called threads and strings and secret things

My dear little secret
please stay in the corner
ill feed you with fear
and secure you with mortar
ill hollow a cave
if youll only behave
dont take any more
than the core that i gave
the threads at my fingers
and the strings on my soul
insist they must linger
and blacken like coal
((repeat chorus))
this is the oldest that youve ever been
something is ticking beneath your skin
eyes upon you and they hold back a grin
this game is not obe that you can win.

Chorus to the aforeposted verse one

Somebody knows that you dont blend in
Every encounter is paper thin
Flip through the pages and take it all in
Each stamp of ink is original sin.

Slam it or sing it? I want feedback :)

We try and we die in the
bliss of a lullaby
We hum soft and low to the
secrets below
We cannot forego
No matter the time
The itch of the ticking
The twelve o'clock chime
The threads at my fingers
And strings on my soul
Insist they must linger
And blacken like coal

Paper Patterns

I know that you know this
But what can I do?
It's the same words again,
With a different tune.
You can hum, along,
You've heard this before,
But the melody's wrong
So you'd better be sure
That you know what you're doing
Just take a step away
From the edge, take a breath,
Now you're starting to sway
I could try, to catch you,
But what could I do?
It's the same words again,
With a different tune.
<><><>>>><><>><>>>>><><><>>>
You
had to walk
Away
Through the rain
<><>><><><><>< The lamplight shone on your hair, Just an angel causing pain <<><><><><<><>
Did you know that you drew
your
dagger did you know, you took aim?
<><><<><<><<><>< Did you know that the blow That you struck Drained the blood From my vains <><><><><><>><>< My eyes are wide open, but my mouth is like ice <><><><><><><><>< My eyes are wide open but my mouth is like ice <><><<><><<><><>
It's only the middle of September and I've already paid
The price.

One for the camera

You're picking off the scabs that stitch the memories to your skin
You're waiting for the day the blood beneath won't come again
But every story's ending holds a secret you're keeping in
The words that should resolve themselves cease to come to an end
Shut the cabinet,
Tape the mirror closed,
And shut your mouth for once in your life
I'm waiting for the words to come but they won't write
Themselves on the page
Let's watch for rain, let's wait in vain
For things to fall from the sky
And when they always almost do we'll always almost say goodbye
<>><><>><><><>><><><>>><><><<><><>><><<><><>><><
You put the pen to paper, write your name, and cross it out
You want to rip it all away but you know you'd couldn't do without
But every time you write a different word it's not allowed
And sometimes to be heard you have to spill the ink and shout.
Snuff the candle, lock the room and walk, and trust yourself for once in your life
Keep waiting for the words to come cause you can write them down on the page
Keep watching for rain, you're not watching in vain, cause things have fallen from the sky
Before
And when they finally do you'll have the strength to say goodbye
Say goodbye
Say goodbye

hm...

This a poem I wrote with someone who I met on compassion pit :) I kind of ended the conversation suddenly but it was a good conversation. Sorry, Sean. :)

Forever is nothing but an ink stain
On the flower of life
Like a stricken vein it .....
oh i can't remember the rest. but it was really good. And then it went something like...
can't see past the platform it sits and frets upon silky ignorance.
it knows nothing of its own kind
and then i forget.... and then something like
Stench or scent, what is its.... someting and then..
Is it dripping in sweet or drenched in truth
but like a newborn flame
the naive blue cannot stay... something something something
Until.... uh i forget this part too
And then something about the ember-laden charcoal beneath and temptation. And then
Till finally it ends in a big bang
And the forever becomes everything.
And there is nothing.

Well as you can see i forgot to copy and paste the poem and that was kind of a fail from memory but it was a really good poem. And yeah if a certain someone remembers what i left out feel free to fill it in.

Knock Knock

Hook snag pull drag from the back its hardly even visible but you can

Taste it on your tongue the numb is wearing

Hard on you it floods floods floods

Fold, crumple, scrape away, hide away, don’t let

It come to the front of your mind it has resistance

Why did you pull tug it had to

Swim through shit to find your present, past, and future

Rolled out on a flat surface unfurled finger jab

Boom

Slip

Burn

Tear

Knock,

knock

Who’s

There.

Butterfly Poem

Well today I saw the most beautiful thing
I saw Nikes pressing pedals and i imagined my own blue toes right there helping along.
And I saw a
girl
*almost*
press a
boy
up against a swingset and feel his heartbeat in his eyes and clean his lips of doubt.
I saw a blonde flipping off...
the deep end
(uh-oh)
And that wasn't so beautiful but life is a destroyer.
I saw wet hair falling in the faces of two confused sailors
And I watched them forget about everything and wear stripes instead.
I watched the mirror become confused and I witnessed the grass on the lawn
And I watched the whole time the window slammed shut
And I stifled the lamplight until it was gone.

Drawing Circles

This ball and chain paperweight back-stab almost ballerina makes
Anything Possible
And like a yearly tide ebb flow spiderweb mess-up, we are human.
By the time the spring wasn't early we'd forrgotten the late-come winter
And were bound to our decision with nothing more breakable and less bendable than anything else.

A New Poet?

This is a poem my 6 year old cousin Mira wrote! I'm super proud of her because she's starting to get really into writing and she's written a bunch of poems according to her mom, but this was the only one I saw :) I edited some spelling mistakes so it would be easier to read, but other than that this is word for word! Enjoy:)

Rain
by: Mira

It's raining in my window
The rain is on the hills
All I know is that rain is preciptation
I like the droplets
I know,
I know.

The kind of purple-red bruise cut that you only get from being cut by metal

This ink drips through the clenched fists of the universe and we call the resulting blackness forever; an insurmountable difference between open space and circles.
Well I think there are edges.
I don't think forever is even a concept because it doesn't make sense, just like reflections in the mirror don't make sense and science doesn't make sense and god doesn't make sense and nothing makes sense, except for when you pay with a five and get three quarters back.
I can't put numbers into words because numbers aren't words. I don't understand how a 2 is a T-W-O. I see it as a 2.
The rash of lights littering the blackness- I think it's a result of scratching, I really do. It's like a base of yellow fading to England gray, although I don't really think it's like that at all. I make shit up constantly and just because it looks nice in print I believe it and I live by it but you can't live by anything but life because then you cater your beliefs to a outline that is pre-made, and I know I said there were edges before but I am the most inconsistent person you will probably ever meet so please just tune me out.

Heap

You were awoken
You were destroyed
Meaningless token
Favorite toy

Dead Silence

Once I found a thread made of pure silver joy.
I followed it.
It led through some grassy fields and into the air and I followed it all the way up to the place where the sky stays blue all through the night
I am not going to say what went down up there.
All I know is that in time my sharp pain cut through the thread and sent me freefalling back to the ground.
If I remember correctly, I landed in the middle of a highway.
And they expected me to walk home and eat dinner with my family and take a shower and get some sleep because I looked like I needed it.

Gust

As soon as that....
melody hit my ears it was like I was standing right there again on the concrete in the wind and everyone was walking I could see my shoes in the dark of the door they glowed silver just like the moon slivers in your irises I took one last step and then I crumbled to the ground except everyone else was, too so it didn't look like it meant anything but it did because I would've even if they didn't I can hardly keep the traces of the Atlantic from my eyes as I recall the darkness and the sweetness and the foreshadowing looming over my head but I just thought it was a heavy storm cloud set to let loose on saturday morning, but the next day no rain fell.

If I ever get Alzheimer's I'm screwed cuz I'm addicted to remembering.
//

Annual

Sometimes I wish I was a mouse living inside the walls of a house and everything was insulation and foil and sawdust.
And maybe if I was I wouldn't feel all the layers of the atmosphere pressing down on me as much as I do; like everything is just a candle that someone is desperately trying to blow out.
If I meet your eye know that I am afraid and that I am unsure.

If you are thinking
What I am thinking then you are a very
vain
person
But every mountain only goes so high.
If I could mail you a calendar I'd place the peak at the beginning of April and I would watch you climb.

Feathers

I play the computer keyboard like a piano and I pound out my feelings either way
I leave it all on stage or in my lap but when I stand up it falls so I don't have to worry about brushing it off.
Tears run down your face and thoughts run through your mind
we run and we run but we're always behind
The having's got to do with the getting and forgetting
my backpack in the other room but it leads me to a truth so raw I can't compute the letters it takes to overtake myself I help,
I need,
I want
to
be
freed

Words of Wisdom from a five-year old

If I were a puzzle, I would scream when people took me apart.

...

I wish when I opened up my heart, my secrets, I could pour them into an opaque, air-tight container and keep them all for myself. I wish when I opened up my heart I could file my feelings and place them in a box. Tape, stamp, address, I'd mail them off to a faraway place (but I'd always make sure I could find them again). I wish when I opened up my heart the beating turned on default mute and the blush on my cheeks stopped below my skin. I wish when I opened up my heart I could stop the loud music.
But instead, when I open up my heart, my secrets flow from it; liquid, silver, tantalizing. My feelings shout and make themsleves known. They find their way into my eyes, my lips, the way my nose crinkles, but there's nothing I can do my feelings are not shy. When I open up my heart music flows from the core the beat in the background steady and quick.
When I open up my heart things happen faster than I can keep track of and every second's another memory. My heart does not hide from anything no matter what chains hold me back my heart will always be free.

(Can anyone tell me if this feeling ever goes away?)

(It's okay)
to be humble
(and also)
to stumble
(to swoon as you read)
and cry as you need
That one
you lost
so long long ago
(And yet it seems like yesterday when he said)
I would love to skydive
(and)
He spilled his juice
(and)
Smile and tears and
(He stared at you a bit longer than usual when you got your braces off, you know it was not just your imagination)
And it was yesterday and the beginning when
(he smiled in that way that communicated something along the lines of i know i am gorgeous and i think you are worthy of my gorgeous and ridiculously arrogant smile)
And
The candles were
(blown out)
And
(you didn't even know he was standing there)
always
(watching)
(I remember what you wore on September 19th.)
(you know, the day on my calendar with a sad face in the corner*bitterly*)

(khaki pants)

(orange and red striped shirt)

(Blue polyester hoodie)

shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit
whywhywhywhwywhywhywhwywhywhwywhywhwywhy

Attic Doll

Fast forward the song at the link below to about 1:00 and then read on.:)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-fPT8ojGU10&feature=related


This room has been empty for

Quite a long time

Dusty glass corners and

Musicbox chime

Broken old golden things

Glitter and shine

Drenched in the air lies

A memory of mine.

If Looks Could Kill

Acting like we're one big happy family only works when it's true
But glares across the room
Glances and smirks
Eye rolls
Will you show me how it really is?

Undertow

The year passed slow
We watched a flower
Grow then die and wither.
Fence; slowly opens wide but
they walk right past because they know better now.
But that little girl-
she doesn't. And they don't warn her because,
well, nobody warned them.
In another, cleaner, meaner town
Headphones get popped in and
lawns get mowed and
shoes get wiped and
somewhere, a bomb goes off
in someone's mind and they think
Enough.
And that is the beginning of
The End

Just Like the Movies

Hi, my name is ______________________ and I try to be as nice as possible to everybody. Sometimes I succeed and most of the time I do not but I'm guessing it's the effort that counts so I'm not too worried about my soul. I hold back a lot and half the time- well, more than half - I am not at all myself. Being myself is a rather high set bar, as I have no idea who I actually am. Sometimes I try to be witty and end up offending various people, mostly guys, who don't seem to take well to that sort of thing. Usually they say mean things to me and then I insult them more and curse at them in my head and vent through poetry and then I cry because I was always taught that if you're nice to everyone and you're smart and independent then the world would be in the palm of your hand but it's really not like that at all. You can tell that I really like a movie if I'm eating my popcorn at lightning speed. Yesterday an 96 year old man read me an Emily Dickinson poem and then gave me amazing advice on life. When I tried to reply he couldn't hear me. I do really like my life a lot in general but I really feel like there's something missing. And I am not a flirt and I don't want to be.
Thank you for your time

Disfigurement

They figured out that if you put the lamp too close to the ceiling,
the house could burn.
And the soap-shiny skin in the sink is feeling like maybe it will nver be clean
because secrets can't be fought by chemistry
Or anything, really.
The only way you can get rid of a secret is by telling it
The soap won't help.
They figured out that if you make the supports better, you can have bigger windows.
Let in more light. Talk to the birds. Smell the air. Watch the rain. See the rain when there is no rain. Hear the thunder. By this time the windows have gotten quite large..
They can see more of the world, and if they don't like it, they can jump
If the lamp does cause the fire, they have an option.
"If we waited 90 days I could get it to happen, definitely."
Fake. You disgust me.
I just want another Arabian subcontinent conversation.
Parachutes couldn't save me then and I didn't really care.
The ground was far enough away.
What if we're all falling?
We are all falling.
The choices we make increase our speed, or slow us down. Some times they bring the ground closer.
And when we fall faster or fall back we meet other people we wouldn't have otherwise. If you want to find your other half, make every choice.
Of course, you will probably hit the ground sooner, I guess.
But what the hell. To the organized mind, death is just another great adventure.