When I look in the mirror
I dont see me
I see her.
The me I loved is gone and she is here
to stay.

Some people
Love you
For the way
You make
Them feel
About themselves.

I just simply love you.

Purple walls,
Waiting anxiously to be,
Blue,
Waiting desperately to be,
Fixed,
Holes and scars,
From you,
From me,
Writing on the wall,
Only from my insanity,
The floor is covered,
Laundry undone,
Old art projects,
Failed dreams,
And notebooks.

The bed,
Is where,
Where I like to rest,
However I'd sit there,
When I felt a pounding in my chest.
Stare at the ceiling till your eyes bleed,
Stare at the ceiling,
Till your demons flee,
The same room where,
I said my first i love you,
Where,
I meant my first I hate you,
Where friendships fell between the wall and the box spring,
And I,
Was too tired,
To retrieve them.

Hold on,
little girl

that car handle can
double as an anchor

your sanity can't fly out
the w
           i
                n
                      d
                           o
                                   w

if we can close it first

hold on
hold tight

the window is latched

safe?

yes.

hold there,
with all your might


keep holding on
to the door handle

because one day
it will open

I will always be too much for some people.
I will always be too emotional.
Too affectionate.
Too clingy.
Too needy.

I will always not be enough for some people.
I don't emote enough.
I don't display enough affection.
I don't touch enough.
I don't articulate enough.

I will always be too much.
Too damaged.
Too guarded.
Too cold.
Too paranoid.

I will always be too much.
Too strong.
Too opinionated.
Too passionate.
Too forgiving.

I will always be too much for some people,
But I'd like to think that maybe
For you,
I am just enough.

our friendship is always there
prone to love and prone to tear
but our friendship is always there
and time is not eternal.

How did I not realize?





How was it not clear?




If we dwell on the past, we repeat the past.
If we just sit in silence, the car radio isn't going to turn back on.




We have to reach a hand out to fix it, to help the music blare, to make sure it doesn't fade.
Within ourselves.


There is none who can fix a society- it takes a village to raise a child, so doesn't it fit?- but we can all fix ourselves.

Together.



We each have our own bubble. Though we can push each other's into unwanted territory, no one can pop our bubbles but ourselves.


I'm not about to let my bubble or anyone else's pop over the past.


Perhaps ours have to float a little farther from each other's than we would have liked. We can still wave hi from afar, as we are carried on different tempos through our journeys of life.


We cannot learn from the past if we are still living it.



We can only inflate our bubbles with music.



And never let it fade.

Last night, I sat on top of my radiator, the window cracked slightly open
So I could feel the wind brush my feet

And for only the third or so time,
the cold voice in my head whispered
suicide

It was not a want
More a playful experiment with ideas

The voice ran a quick calculation
Of how easy it would be just to
fall
Go into the bathroom, grab a razor and
answer some higher call

And I recoil from the thought
Not because I know it should seem
wrong
But because I'm scared of how easy it would be

I lean toward the egde of the radiator

The I pull down the shade of the window and walk away.