.. .. .. . . . . . . .

12:34am and we can't stop the cherry tears.

 May 30th and we already have frost slowing our pulse.

79 degrees Fahrenheit and we're turning into a heap of cold red.

Might be seasonal, 

But we're too sensitive.

12:43am and a trail of bloody sadness stains our faces.

Nine minutes and we're pumping slower each time.

Cried about lost chances to a boy who has been drowning since age 12.

drove us home because eyes don't have windshield wipers.

and his hands, he claimed to dirty for ours.

There's three other hearts in the car.

and all you hear is the one that stopped.

3:05pm and we're still here.

November 8th and our arteries are frozen.

47 degrees Fahrenheit and the blizzard spreads on.

Might be seasonal,

But it doesn't matter. 

It's too late to thaw the ice in our veins.

and it's only going to get colder.

3:50 and theres no sign of life in our eyes.

Forty five minutes and we're beating slower with each passing *pum bom*

Poured our soul to a man who let the cup tip over and spill into the thirsty earth.

We drove him home because he was to afraid to open his eyes.

You'd be wise to keep them shut.

and our hands are too cold for his.

and after hearing our song,

he knows it too.

There's seven thrumming hearts down stairs and 10 outside.

and we can't let theirs go.

Downgrade To Skinned Knees, Please.

"Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth." 

Psalms 46:10

Be still.

The world is moving so quickly.

Where did the skinned knees on every kid go?

Weren't those "in" when I was their age?

They're on the "Flappy Bird"

But dont worry,

When you press restart

it will be as if the bird never flew.

you will get a "fresh" avatar.

So, don't worry.

My childhood is gone.

I spend my time deliberating College essays.

Maybe,

 I don't know what the hardest thing I've gone through is.

Maybe,

I don't know how to cram that much emotion into a limited amount of words.

Maybe,

I'm too out of date for an update.

Maybe,

I'd like a down grade instead.

To that field I knew for 8 1/2 years.

To the barn We were going to run away too.

To my tree house with no walls or roof, but it had carpet.

To a sliver dog that could climb trees.

To the milk carton boats I raced.

To birds that didn't clip their own wings.

To my kitten Beanie Baby.

To hot air balloons every New years.

It's not like you can put your childhood on your college application anyway.

They don't care that the barn, 

Is gone.

The field,

Well, a big white house is there now.

The silver dog,

is dead.

All the races,

were lost.

That kitten Beanie Baby,

was left on a plane.

That my tree house,

was ripped out. down to the last root.

As for the hot air balloons,

 they never made it more than a few feet before all hope was lost.

and they were brought down.

Was it ever real? (I don't know how to define real.)

There is a boy calling from outside my bedroom window.

But, I don't hear him.

I can't.

Because the song that tripped me, is blasting lies into my skull.

I want. you.

I want. you.

I Want. You.

Why'd you play it?

Better yet, why did I feel inclined to listen.

Enlighten me, please.

What was is about my bruised heart that made you think it was okay to drop kick it to the moon? 

Well. 

It wasn't "okay".

But I'm there now.

On the moon.

"Love," you said, "I believe it's real". and I almost believed you.

 I am deaf due to the fact that I listened to the roar of lies you sang for me.

 I can see my CD of French music from up here.

  It's being crushed in your muddy palms,

that were my security only weeks before. . .

Deny the metallic pieces of my CD the resting place of a trash can.

Throw them up here. 

But aim at Mars on purpose.

(I'm on the moon remember.)

(your view)

(my view)

Let them fly like shooting stars.
  Too dull for the eyes of earth. 

I am not there.

(Like you are. you are there)

I see my shards of mute music amongst the stars,

and I know.

they were just terribly misplaced.

All of "us" is gone. 

but the after taste of you remains a resident in my mouth.
(Even though we never kissed, there is an after taste.)

An after taste of two elementary words.

P.S.

You spelled my name wrong.

Jump

Girls start to dance

and you can't help but wonder,

will this just fizzle out?

but it doesn't matter.

because,

TONIGHT. . .

He leads you down a dead-end corridor.

as you continue onward

with that same intense voice your mother said

was from God himself.

although you are feeling low,

This "one way" "dead-end" corridor is,

poisoned.

Too much carbon monoxide.  

from the heavy breathes of the walls

lined with ready to fire prison guards.

Yet,

despite the lack of windows

and absence of light,

You know you can jump,

to a bubble of quiet fresh air,

that is just 

on the other side of this cinder block wall.

Jump 

and drift to a place where your work speaks for itself.

TONIGHT.

Take that leap.

and because he is "kind" enough to lead you nowhere. . .

leave his grimy palms for the dust to consume.

Lets think about that.

and then,

I will meet you in our soapy bubble,

that need no words to keep it afloat.

Please.

I have my face pressed to the cement.

But

I need our silence to carry you and I,

away.

TONIGHT!

With you. . .

My dearest friend

who has not only carried my books,

but the heavy bricks I find along this path

that is. . .

going. . .

NOWHERE.

SIDE EFFECTS MAY INCLUDE LOSS OF YOU.

Begging: August 30th, 2011

TAKE ONE CAPSULE EVERY MORNING BY MOUTH.
DO NOT CHEW OR CRUSH.

They weren't even the right prescription.
But they "helped."

Every morning with a cold gulp of water, sliding like a snake down my throat.

It took about 30 minutes of freedom for the chains to enclose around my wandering mind.
and I always could tell when they started "working"

My hands would begin to tremble.
My heart would beat a little bit louder
and as it thudded like periodic bombs,
the voices would return along with their hate and disgust looming and clouding my impressionable mind.

and I believed them all.
As far as I knew,
There was no one who noticed.
and if there was, they didn't care.

I was completely alone.

SIDE EFFECTS MAY INCLUDE LOSS OF APPETITE.

Every mirror was proof that if I was. . .
skinnier. . .
and if my boobs where a size B. . .
He would love me.

It was so EASY!
I knew I wasn't good enough.
And The pills made it too easy to starve.
I was close to what I wanted.
Just a little bit smaller
and he will love me.

and for a while it worked.
with every skipped meal.

my waist was smaller. . .
and with a thinner mid-section,
the contrast between my torso and my breasts seemed more prominent.

What does it matter if every night I wept
because,
I wanted God to pluck me from this earth and take me
HOME.

I was so tiny and still getting smaller.

Middle: October 15th, 2011

Dance with me so I can forget.
Dance with me.
Dance in purple dance in black.
Dance with me.
Dance eye to eye in a room of chest to chest.
Dance with me.
Dance in blue vans with dirty laces.
Dance with me.
Dance to learn our finger prints and foot steps.
Dance with me.

Twirl me into you to hear my laugh.
Dance with me.
Keep my hands tight in yours.
Dance with me.
Dip me and feel my weight,
Dance with me.
Smile to my unheard words
and then just..
Dance with me.

You felt my weight,
and saw my height.

I know you knew.
and you just kept. . .
Dancing with me.
To a song I still listen to.

Thank you for your time.
Thank you for making me want mine back.


My grades began to take the tole,
of the liberty You
planted in my heart that night.
But the blind fold was lifted from my eyes when you looked into them.

I  Stopped 
The daily routine of learning with a medicated mind.
I was so far gone,
it took me 2 years
for The Pain of the past to leave.

and. . .
Not the end, but Now:

I wake up every morning and know that I am enough.
Now I see that the pills were taking away what I now hold close. . .
ME.

And I Want It.

I don't know what love is.

I don't know how to let someone "love" me.

I know what it is like to "love" someone.

But "to be loved" is a phrase that I can never manage to hear in time.

maybe I am supposed to feel it instead..

but how can I feel it when my hands have been tied for years?

love is this emotion that is meant to open your eyes and knock you off you feet,

send you hurdling into a dreamy whirlwind of rose petals and Ooey gooey lips.

I want that stupid whirlwind everyone talks about.

 it swirls up with patterns of sparkling gold flakes hinted with this pinky sunset color that lures every fiber of my heart.

It looks to delicious and free.

But I am standing on a peak of isolation... and regret.

Watching that tornado spin all over the baby blue valley of happy smiles and perfect dance moves.

its come my way once




And.
I.
Wanted.
It.
But.
I.
Was.
To.
Afraid.
So.
I.
Ran.





For a moment it chased after me.

and I guess... thats how I got up here.

on this grayish green mountain

wrists bound by cords of morning glory and piano music.


It's partially ironic and somewhat idiotic...

but I'm OBSESSED with...

LOVE.

The idea of it fills my veins with it's cancerous idea that one day I could experience the joy
of loving someone who loves me completely.

When I find my way down this rocky ledge,

I imagine the sappy whirlwind we call love will contain..

honey sweet lips.

Sweaty palms on a saturday night.

Smokey campfire kisses.

Slow dancing to French music whose words we don't know but emotion we mirror.

Leisurely hiking to magical places just so you can kiss me with no ones eyes
 lingering on our misjudged figures.

CD exchanging

Gas wasting up the canyon so I can hold your hand while we drive under a night of ancient stars


Lazy library days where we sit back to back and read other peoples imaginations.

Bike rides to the land where no one knows our names and no one cares because
 they are also incased in the same whirlwind as us.

Keeping the windows rolled down when it rains so we can touch droplets that fell from the same cloud that loomed over me while I stood bound by my own hands... and drowning in my blood on that crumbling peak of despair.

I wouldn't mind being sucked into that vortex.

So..

 I Love, love.

Even though I ran

and even though I don't understand a single thread of it.

and it scares me more than death...

I love it.

Maybe some day



I

will
come
down
from
this
peak
but
If
I
jumped
it
would
be....
                                                                                               

       

Suicide.

let me take my time.

                                         

                                                                                                                  

kisses are gross..but..

I want your lips to press against mine.

Whisper words only silence hears...
you're safe.

To calm their trembles with the truth.

Pull my skeleton from it's grave...
and into you.

And I will weep.

You have saved me.
I never want you to stop saving me.

I always want your glorious words to bleed and stain my very being

Exhale your fears..
Breathe me in..

Oh, how I crave
how I wait.

For our kiss that gives us more than a shallow buzz of lust.

For the kiss that means we, you, me, us, ours...
safe.

What a world it would be, if people kissed with all they are.
If every kiss cried; I love you.