I'm trying to balance the wrong and the right in my life.
I am running out of ways to say "I love you" and " thanks for not leaving me all alone when I'm an *******"

I find myself pushing people away just so I can continue to travel down the road less traveled.
Following the path that has monsters hiding in the trees and demons waiting to pounce from the shadows.
I am wandering. I am exploring.
I have become one with the nomadic spirit that lives inside my heart.
But I cannot remember how it feels to truly LIVE.

He left a long time ago and my friends have picked me up more times than I can count on one hand.
I left myself a long time ago- and my family has picked me up more times than I can count on one hand.

I can't remember what's worse.
The feeling of falling in love or the feeling of losing the one you love.
Because in both situations...

I have lost someone.

I like to speak in riddles when you're around.
I like to bring you up just to pull you down.
I am afraid to commit to someone at the current moment.
But I'm even more afraid of letting this guy in when we just met.

I found love in the back of a pick up truck in a small country town.
He picked me up, tore my dress off, and laid me down.
He spoke in a pretty country accent and told me I was the best he ever seen.
I remember thinking learn to speak properly- but that would have been mean.

You left me running from town to town and bed to bed.
I can't let go of the awful things you once said.
I try to race time by running as far away as I can.
But all this running is leaving me cold and without a back up plan.

They like to keep me up night--
creeping around, haunting sounds, and pale figures in doorways I can barely make out.

They like to keep me on my toes--
Small phrases that make it sounds like they care and then they turn around and stab in me the back.

They try to remind me how to move forward--
but all they do is hold me back and keep me trapped between getting out and staying there.

These ghosts aren't the ones who haunt my hallways at night.
They are not the ones you can banish with some spell or some pretty knick knack you find at the store.

No, these are the ghosts of my mind.
They are the ones who remind me everyday I am in the same place.
They are the people who forgot me.
They are the loves I have lost.

The ghosts I cannot hide from.

I wanted to marry you -- which is something I have never wanted.
You're talking to a --
"Independent
Don't need no
Stupid Man to make
me feel whole"
type of girl.

I wanted to have your kids-- which I always found terrifying.
You're talking to a --
"Those kids are
Real Cute
When I can
Give them back"
type of girl.

I wanted to runaway with you -- I never used to run from my problems.
You're talking to a --
"Face
Those Demons
Head on
And they will
Leave you
the **** alone"
type of girl.

Now I want to marry someone who actually loves me--
I don't want to talk to the--
"Wants to get
Married
because he's 28
And Life is  almost
Over"
type of boy.

Now If I have kids it will be with someone who will be there--
I don't want to have them with the--
"I'll be the best
Dad
Ever if you have kids
When I want them
only"
type of boy.

Now If i want to run away -- I'll run away with myself--
I don't want to run with the--
"Come to my
side of the country
Because I
Refuse
to come to your
State
Ever again"
Type of boy.

You're selfish.
I'm going to do me.

I'm typing in lowercase letters but dreaming in capitals.

i'm swallowing pills and alcohol to numb the pain hoping for solitude in a bottle.
you're cute, i think?
sitting over there at the bar staring at me like i could be someone you want to get to know.
you're cute, i think?
but baby, i'm just a drunk girl at a bar taking too many drugs to even care about what your name is so please stop talking.

you slide over a glass of scotch, neat and cold, disgusting as i drink it down.  
you keep talking about how pretty my eyes are and how cute my hair is and where'd i get that nice dress and why is a cute girl like you at a bar all alone.
please... stop talking.

your hand is creeping up my thigh, and I'm too numb to stop you
the pills are kicking in and you are starting to look like him...
If i drink a little more maybe i can stomach going home with you and drowning my pain with lust.
but for the love of god, please stop talking.

he left three months ago, took his clothes and a toothbrush and headed out.
he kissed my cheek... he said he'd be on the next train home as soon as he could and left with no explanation.
he's married now.
his kids are cute.
he named one after me... which is disgusting and i wonder if his wife knows.

you are still there... wonderful.
i take one last swig of liquor and grab your hand; stumbling from the bar and slurring my words.
i laugh, because it's cute when girls laugh right?
you smile -- and i really can't tell are you ugly or not?
who ******* cares.

i'm typing in lowercase letters dreaming in capitals.
i'm going to go home with this man and pretend he's you.

cheers to drowning out the noise in lust and liquor.

I saw Blue-- Blue skies and blue eyes.
Blueberries and Blue sheets.

I saw Red-- Red cheeks and Red lips.
Red shirts and bright Red Strawberries.

I saw Brown-- Brown Sand and Brown hair.
Brown shoes and that Brown carpet.

I remember thinking-- "I am more than this one night...I am more than his eyes all over me."
I remember thinking-- "I don't care... His lips taste sweet and his hair is so soft through my fingers."
I remember saying -- " Come with me to your bed where we can roll in the blue sheets as though were swimming in the sea."

I ripped off that Red shirt.
I fell slowly, naked, against his cold, Blue sheets.
And  I ran my fingers through his dark Brown hair-- thinking this... this is what love should feel like.