As fast as ocean sweeps the bay
legs of crescent carry away
a sea of wonder won't reject
the sweetest moons you collect
in the palm of your hand soft as peach
slender spine strains to reach
the sun in the sky too far for advice
on speaking to creatures fragile as ice
because the sweetest girl, dear Josephine
shielded by blue instead of green
has a smile painted upon the wall
off the museum fortress she dare not fall
because the places you venture will seem
only to exist before in your dreams
never so lonesome as an unshared bed
cluttered with thoughts of remorse instead
slamming doors in the old broken home
cover the windows high with stones
when travels far and wide resume
remember your home is always the moon.
When I had friends,
They were in awe of me
And sulked like lesser beings
But in all truth,
I was just a little girl
Surprised to make it in
The big leagues.
So we are taught that the need for greed is greater than the need for nothing at all
and nothing at all is what kite flyers get when they let go of the string,
it's a hollow thing
when your stomach rings out the hour on the hour
and your power of locomotion was left in the pawn shop
the one stop
to top up your wallet or purse
could be worse
that packet of peas in the kitchen will please as you check book recipes for a pea dinner
on a winner or not
the day's still quite hot
so you save on the heating
you also save on the eating when you find that the mice have eaten all the peas
mice do just as they please.
I wish I was a mouse
paying no rent for my house
and eating dried peas.
So the scene's being set for a bet on the horses
the bingo's a no go
because the callers a know it all and he caught you cheating
that's why you would have been eating peas
if the mice hadn't of beaten you to the kitchen
understand that the balance of probability is out of your hands
as you hand in your wager
to the girl at the counter and she counts out your winnings
and you think that it's cricket and go in for one more innings and lose the whole wedge
We're on the edge and we're tipping as the whole world starts ripping us apart.
i am the girl
with questions in
i am the girl
i am the girl
with untouched love on
i am the girl
i am the girl
with whispers in
i am the girl
that shouts but
no one hears
i am the girl
with a song in
i am the girl
in a play
with no part
i am the girl
with lyrics on
i am the girl
who is not afraid
i will always associate back flips
with my first "boyfriend" in the third
grade who has probably now grown
up to be the type of guy who takes
pictures of himself shirtless in the bathroom
mirror and tells his girlfriend that she's pretty
but not quite as pretty as he is.
i will always associate playgrounds
with my elementary school sweetheart
and hearing my favorite love song and
him walking five steps behind and defending
me when he thought i needed it.
i will always associate the rain
with wet tables and standing up
and laughing with friends and talking
and being wrapped in someone's arms
for the very first time and hearing "i missed you."
i will always associate "almosts" with the guy
i never really realized i wanted until it was too late
and seeing him walk around holding the hand of the
girl who wanted him when i didn't and seeing him kiss
her the way he wanted to kiss me once upon a time
and with screwing up really really irreparably bad this time.
i will always associate short time periods with the two weeks
when i belonged to someone I never expected to want,
when he kissed me like i mattered,
when he held me as though he would never let go
and then told me we should "take a break" and
come back to us when the "time was right."
and i will always associate happiness with these times
when i was loved and wanted and needed for just a little while
and believing for just a moment that i was special.
and you know what else?
i will always associate failure with the entrance of something better
i will associate failure with a narrow escape because if it were meant
for me to have then i would have had it but it's not so i don't.
i will always associate life with beautiful complications.
There's a kind of silence
that you can only find
wide awake at 5am,
when you can look wistfully
at the girl laying next to you
and wish you had the ability
to crawl into bed with her
and wrap your arms around her waist.
I was no more than a small girl,
When a cat wondered to my front porch step.
A cat with jet black fur and
eyes like melted chocolate --
He was mystifying, interieging,
and I wanted him for my own.
I saved enough money so that:
Everyday, I put food out for him.
Everyday, I brought him toys to play with.
Everyday, we could talk for hours --
All on my front porch step.
One day, my dark eyed beauty spotted another.
She gave him better food.
She gave him fancy toys.
She offered more attention.
One day, he didn't come to my front porch step.
He was not mine to keep, so
I could not demand him back.
That day my mother taught me something:
"If you love something, let it go.
If it comes back, it was meant to be."
But he never came back.
He left me alone,
Alone on my front porch step.
I learned that day that love is selfish.
It demanded that I exclude myself to all but one.
I learned that love is cruel.
It's a drug that we're all addicted to.
I cried, all alone on my front porch step.
One day, when I awoke,
I remembered a nightmare I had that previous night.
I was at a school, a haunted school,
With a group of girls I didn't know.
They were there to release the spirits of three sisters
Who were trapped there by a mysterious phantom.
The first girl was named Clara,
She had hazelnut hair, hazelnut eyes,
A heart that could only be described as infinite.
She was the oldest of the three.
The second girl was named Nora,
She had a sense for adventure and heroics,
Her eyes only looked forward,
And would sacrifice herself to save her friends.
She was the middle of the three.
The third girl was named Mary,
She had a tame body and never really spoke up,
What she had in shyness she made up with her smile,
And she liked to sing and dance.
She was the youngest of the three.
We climbed up the fire escape behind the school,
The ladder was sticky,
We couldn't tell what it was because it was so dark
No one had thought to bring a flashlight.
We reached an unlocked door
That Nora keenly opened up.
Bella scolded her to be more careful,
But surprisingly Mary was the first to enter
And she hid behind the door to let us through.
It was me, then Nora, then Clara
As we entered a brightly lit hallway
With a door all the way at the end.
And so we walked.
Nora jumped ahead of me,
While Clara stayed behind with Mary
Who regretted her jump start.
So we walked down the hall quietly
With Nora making giggles here and there,
I would look over my shoulder every now and then
To make sure Mary and Clara were fine.
Mary held her hands behind her back
And was looking at her feet,
Clara was looking ahead with her hands together in front
She titled her head, and smiled.
For someone whose sister is lost
She seemed quite content with the people she was with.
Eventually, we reached the door
Which looked like a plain old door,
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary about it.
Nora haphazardly opened it only ajar
Because Mary shouted to stop.
Nora looked back with a questioned stare.
Clara took it upon herself to slowly open the door
And make sure everything was safe.
I just stood there breathless.
Clara called us over one by one
To the strangest wooded area.
A wooded area in a school
It was covered with black trees, dead orange grass,
And a purple sky with a yellow full moon.
There were no visible creatures,
Yet I felt like we were being watched.
We walked through the crusty grass
Whispering where we should go.
Nora pointed her finger to the distance.
Clara, Nora, and Mary marched ahead of me
All determined to move forward,
Although Mary let Nora and Clara walk in front of her.
At this point I realized
I was like a ghost to these girls,
I seemed more like a wish
And more and more
Like a wish to save them.
We entered a clearing
And saw the large faceless dark phantom
Breathing cold air.
The girls and I stood stiff
And the phantom took it upon himself
To come to us.
He stood in front of the girls,
All three of them were crying bloody tears.
The phantoms pat the girls on the head,
Comforting them genuinely.
He took them into his darkness,
And they disappeared from my sight.
Why must they beg, make me want to kill them?
Down on their knees, and I am the villian?
They are weak, scum, shit beneath my boot.
A .45 from my backside, I point. Shoot.
My inner demon cackles, her eery whisper no more.
And I cry out, dropping to the blood covered floor.
Eyes wide, twinkling with wetness, I look at what I have done.
Did I... did I really just have fun?
I want to scoop the poor girl up, go outside and run.
I want save your life, but it was my gun.
I still have yet to move a muscle, my mind is reeling.
Tell me what is real, what the fuck am I feeling?
Someone else is in control as I pick myself up,
Is that you? yup.
I'm tripping over my own feet
As I run like I've been beat.
Fucking never ending hallway
I scream for my NIGHTMARE TO GO AWAY
But she has me in her arms, alive or not
I remove my .45, point it at my brain..
take one last shot.
Found someone new and I lost the old me.
I miss that little girl that's locked up screaming to be free.
Find that little girl and hug her tight.
She's weeping, trying to keep her head up high.
HA HA HA. HAHA.
Those laughter rang in her ears since she was five, when the kids in kindergarten called her ugly.
Until now, it still haunts her.
Those words slowly became the monsters that she have came to love.
Because they become her shield.
How can she love herself when she loves the monsters in her head more?
When she can't bring herself to run away from them.
When she listens to them and shut out the ones she holds dear to.
And these people who actually LOVES. HER. BACK.
And before she can love another, she needs to love herself. FIRST.
She. Is me. I, am her.
I have been mourning for these monsters for a while now.
I realized I need to kill them before they kill me.
Before they make me kill that little girl that is crying but is trying to fight her way back.
These monsters have been a part of me that I have been holding on.
I used to hide behind them whenever I feel insecure.
They helped me build a wall to cower and cry behind.
They helped me disconnect myself from the world.
So that the rest of the world can feel comfortable.
Being disconnected gives you time to think.
Loneliness breeds thoughts.
Guess the fuck what?
No more of that bullshit.
My impression is here so stay.
My footprints will forever be marked behind me,
whether I like it or not.
And I think that I need a small spot for my footprints.
I crave for understanding and support.
I crave for genuine embraces.
I will explore.
And maybe you,
someday, one day.
My thirst for genuine affections
are driving me insane
but is inhibited my angst.
How do I explain to my mother that her only daughter,
her only child is one confused mess.
I like girls. I like boys.
I might not like girls. I might not like boys.
Maybe I like both.
Maybe I am just blind…to gender.
One way or another, I have come to accept that it doesn't really matter. Whichever way, I go, it's okay.
I want to stop apologizing for cussin’ around.
Because to me they are motherfucking appropriate.
I am fucking tired of having to be sorry for being me.
I am fucking tired of having to be censored.
Just because some people think that
my orientation is an abomination to the population,
blaming people like me for the demoralization of the institution just because they are the ones without proper education.
But fuck that, this is my identification.
I will never know when the time is right,
so I'm putting the hourglass into someone else’s hand.
I guess I will let time do its job.
For now, I am happy with our
awkward little conversations.
You deserve to know that I am just flattered of your existence.
And y’know what?
I think you do a fucking good job at that.
I want you to exist beside me.
To hold my hand in public
and not care about offending anyone by doing so because it shouldn't.
For now, I am holding on to the hope
that maybe you will accept me one day.
I feel things that I don’t understand when I’m with you.
Fucking kiss me out in the streets.
When our eyes met,
fireworks lit up in my chest but at night
those monsters put them out like rain
I trip over these feelings but hold them back because
of my fear of rejection.
Because I want to be good at being good to you.
Taking out these monsters may all need a lot work but I got time.