I'll be the first to say
That i hate it.
It's so pointless to fight this.
Our defenses are on such a high intensity that we are stiff.
Nothing is comfortable anymore.
Even laying next to you is foreign
I feel as if something is pulling you away from within
We both say that we want to be together and don't want to lose each other,
But when we look back,
We see that we already resent the place we are in.
Always sneaking around
Meeting at parking garages just to get a kiss.
But it isn't just a quick one
We could kiss for hours if we had the time.
And we did one day
When we were together for ten hours.
But now we don't even have the time.
Different lives,
Different friends,
Different obligations.
We drink different coffee in the morning
And complain about how I can't just lay in your arms all day
Because we are running and
Hiding, lying,
Trying just to get a few moments alone with each other
But it is so hard
Because I am stuck in my superficial tower without a door
And no matter how many times you beg me to let down my hair
I can't.
They donated it to someone who actually deserved it.
I ask why you don't just go and find someone who deserves your love,
But you say, 
'Where's the fun in that, my dear?" 
You said,
"Love isn't supposed to be easy.
The harder you work for it, the more meaningful it is."
I just sit there and wonder how hard i have to work
Because I feel everything is starting to callus
Including my heart.
It's slowly turning into rock
And I don't mean for it to,
It's just every time I try I just can't be with you. 
You ask for all the reasons why and for your sake I make a list
But for my sake I take it and tear it apart so you don't worry
I don't want anything else affecting your life.
Especially me.
I'm just a girl that you'll think about in a couple of years and say,
"Oh her? I just knew her in high school.. I guess she was kinda cool."
But you
When I describe you, I'll be fighting back emotions
I'll say something along the lines of a boy who made a dent in my life
But in reality it wasn't a dent,
You took a lot from me, but in return you put stuff back. 
The void that was left empty before you
Was finally filled again with your kindness
But slowly it started to drain again
And when you tried to cover the holes it just made it worse.
You tried to be my nurse, but in reality you were my curse.
That savory poison that flows slowly through my veins
Sugar coating all the pain just to gain some recognition.
You just wanted me to need you.
And believe me.. oh I do

Neil Young singing now-
  you are like a hurricane
  there's calm in your eyes

r ~ 7/3/14

Maybe* Saturn and Jupiter
had a feud, and that is why
Jupiter has the majority
of moons. Maybe Saturn was
misunderstood, with her icy
rings, a difference too great,
causing the moons to tremble
in her presence, spin, rotate.
But, Jupiter could have been
teased, for being too big,
clumsily turning over words.
And Pluto, the spectator,
invisible — for being so small,
short-sighted, but watcher of all.

The solar system reminds us
mere mortals, of how small
our planet is. Yet, we remind
our galaxy that we have
the loudest voices, for our race
could populate the largest
of comets, the smallest suns.
We burn brighter than Venus'
lava, we scream to the velvet sky.

We, the human race,
*own the universe.

My little blue dress hangs in my closet now, and my black ribbon is around my wrist and not my hair. I've cut my long blonde hair shorter, and my childhood fantasies are a mere haunting that reach to me at night, reminding me of who I am.

I once dreamt of you as a wonderland, a place of fear and magic and horror that I would suffer a thousand lives to feel a moment of.

Then I grew older, and recognized that this wasn't a wonderland; or perhaps, it was, but not quite the wonderland I was thinking of. This wonderland had a name, a name that came with frightening connotations.

Bipolar.

Those fantastical moments in which I was flying, in which nothing but the flowers could sing with me as I danced in a purple field of wonder. Where the bluebells kissed my hands and the crochet was with hedgehogs and the pond behind my house was much more than it seemed.

Bipolar.

Each corner I turned in which a shadow hid behind, shadows I could only see and that chased me through the darkness unto the stairs and into my bed, holding me tight and strangling me until I woke up and realized everything was ok.

Bipolar.

Each friend I made as a child at night that wasn't tangible, though we shook hands and danced and read books together as if we were real. As if anything was real.

Bipolar.

It was a game I was playing that I didn't know was hardwired into my brain, that this wasn't just Grace and her wonderland, it was something darker, deeper. But alas, that's how it is as you age, isn't it?


Wonderland gets darker with each visit, and with each day it grows closer to me. Its terrifying how it may begin to affect others, others i love, but there's not much I can do, is there?

My one wish is that there will not be another blonde little girl, with my green eyes and my blue dress, finding herself stumbling into a wonderland that she cannot handle.

If it means I can never have the one thing I want more than anything, then I am willing to sacrifice everything to protect that little girl.

I will never lead another little girl into wonderland.

Never.