I've decided that should anyone
years from now
discover my body
I want them to find me blind-
not from grief and sadness that I saw
but from the beauty my eyes beheld.
I want them to find
the disks in my neck worn-
not from lifting my nose at the inferiority of this place
but rather due to the fact that I was constantly gazing up
simply to remind myself that I get to be a piece in it all.
I want my lips to have trembled, smiled, spoken, gaped
my ears to have listened, to have listened, to have heard
my wrinkles to be evidence of laughter, evidence of worrying
my hands to have been held,
to have fought, grasped
and most importantly to have let go.
When they find me
I want my piercings to be evidence of my interest in pain
and the calm that follows.
I want my body to be riddled in love
agape, philias, eros, storge
I want my scars to be testaments to
my fearlessness, my carelessness,
my courageousness, and my curiosity.
Should they find my spirit gone
should they find my body dead
I want them to know
I want them to know I lived.
What have I done?
What did I get myself into?
What did I create?
There are so many complications with the little situation.
So I’ll just tell you the story.
there was a girl who fell for a boy
(isn’t that always how it goes?).
She fell for him in the spring.
She fell for his friendship.
Then his smile
and she learned how to make him laugh.
What a reward that was.
She fell for TV marathons,
and fort building.
She fell for brown hair, blue eyes, and freckles.
She fell for nerdy adorable.
She’s never been able to get over that type.
In the summer it continued.
She fell for their rhythm and sass.
In the fall it strengthened.
She fell for the idea of him.
That very idea kept her alive through stress and tears;
bitterness masked by sarcasm.
In the winter it faded.
That boy went
and turned his life to shit.
He drowned any pain or stress with copious amounts of
drinks and drugs.
He drowned the scent of those drugs with copious amounts of
In the spring he was the same.
And she knew better than to change him.
In the summer…
Oh in the summer it all crashed down.
In the summer she saw her chance.
In the summer he made a choice
and she would be there to make sure he kept his promise.
She tried so desperately to help him.
She spent her time and effort to wake him up to the reality that
fun can be had without the life he tried to leave behind.
Instead of taking the summer for a much needed cooling period,
she smothered herself with his dirtiest depths.
The ones he had only confessed to three people before.
And she felt honored to be the fourth.
She didn’t judge,
because she too had made mistakes.
Why judge somene for a past they are leaving behind?
No, she didn’t judge.
Instead, she fell even harder for that boy
and his scars.
She fell for evolved hide and seek in the dark
and last minute volleyball in the sand.
She fell for Saturday night board games.
She fell for healing.
She told herself that he could be healed
and it could be by her.
She read stories of heroes
and now was her time to be one.
In this story, her story,
for once in her life,
she was not the damsel.
She was there for him through his own low points,
and his friends darkest hour
that cast swinging shadows across his life.
Her boy shouldn’t have had to deal with that alone.
No one should.
But she did,
She dealt with everything alone.
He pestered her for those moments of truth.
She’ll tell you now that he was only trying to dig up her dirt,
because she knew so much of his.
She will tell you this because she can’t bear to acknowledge that
maybe he really did care,
but still left.
He had sent her songs that she ‘just had to hear.’
Introduced her to new movies and shows, videos and music.
They had learned from each other in such different ways.
Each had their strengths
and oh too many weaknesses.
But they had complemented each other.
He wanted to hang out at all times.
Of course only to distract himself from the cravings.
And of course she gave in every time.
But he never wanted her,
he only wanted a crutch.
And when that crutch left,
he couldn’t stand alone.
But that’s not her fault,
He never really needed her.
He was only under an illusion.
And illusions are made to be broken.
False mirrors that will eventually shatter,
good things she never believed in bad luck.
From the full hearted laugh,
to the bittersweet smile, to the tears in her eyes,
to the rage that now fills her voice,
on might even say she fell in love that over those seasons.
And she took far too long to fall out of it.
Instead she ripped herself apart.
She tore out the pieces that reminded her of him.
But she was unwise.
Instead of throwing those far, far away like she should have,
she kept them close to her chest.
She held them tight and crushed the life out of them.
When she finally threw them out,
they were crushed to ash.
Nothing left but the marks of destruction
because that was all that was left of her.
In physics it is said that a comet traveling
At over 10000 miles an hour the
Size of Mt. Everest would be an
E.L.E. or extinction level event.
Nothing would survive.
If these physisist could figure this our,
Why is there no mathematical computation
That could , at least in theory , have
Prepared me for the impact that is
It's not our fault that we don't make good choices
It's not our fault that we hate each other
It's not our that we get angry for no reason
It's not our fault that we are never happy
It's not our fault that we say things we weren't supposed to say
It's not our fault that we make many mistakes
It's just human nature
What if I told you I found the sweet spot, the perfect combination of want, desire and satisfaction, the perfect balance of risk and thrill, the best adrenaline rush.
I'll share it with you.
Are you ready?
Can you enjoy the dark and lovely, that beautiful spinning moment, the freedom?
It's mine, it can be yours too, breathe it in, suck it down, devour every taste and color, savor it, it won't last forever. Revel in it, drown in it, wicked laughter and twisted minds, wannabe gangsters and the real thing. A sea of crazy and delight
Who are you?
What are you?
I'll show you the art of spinning out of control. Time to unwind and unravel.
This is my dream, my wild unbound satisfaction.
The writing on your face.
Its all mine, and I soak it up relentlessly.
Cocky yet humble,
Yelling at a mumble.
just another contradiction,
Self destructive predilection.
Smart enough to know better,
Yet too dumb to care whether,
I'm dead inside and rotting out,
Or simply just living with doubt.
So the story goes,
Only heaven knows
Why I do the things I do.
I just wish I knew.
Tall, small build,
Not strong willed.
yet willing to finish the mission.
Watch my plans reach their fruition.
Stuff four friends in a white panel van,
Keep them on the road as long as I can.
So we can fit our piece in the puzzle plan.
Cause I'm nothing, simply nothing without any fans.
So my hair, it grows,
And the wind it blows,
Hopefully in the right direction.
To the next intersection.
Evil, yet good,
Idle hands, busy mind
Produce horrific crimes.
Play with emotions to sway
People's affections swing my way.
Yet never carry out the dirty deed at hand.
I'll call it a conscience, say never again, but I'm just a man.
My eyes wander,
Will's getting stronger.
But it's just too hard not to see
Or adequately appreciate beauty.
Calm and enthusiastic,
Dull but charismatic,
Maybe a dash of eccentricity.
Throw in Some single minded duplicity,
Add in a heaping helping of guilt to top it off.
Let cool for twenty years and let the odor waft,
Then you get a blue eyed, brown haired douche bag.
Who wants nothing more than his childhood back.
So much for growing up.
So much for no regrets.
I wouldn't mind staying young,
But time just won't relent.