its that moment you walked in with
scuffed shoes,
perfectly messy hair,
and that ******* old band t-shirt,
that i knew,
i was in deep

Maybe it was the way the sun caressed the land below it,
or the way the clouds danced together across the sky.

Maybe it was the way the wind whispered its greatest secrets,
or the way the flowers stretched their arms in the warm spring air.

Maybe it was the way he danced in the meadow;
so care-free and alive.

Maybe it was the way he looked at me;
like even God was blinded by my beauty.

Maybe it was the way he held me;
like someone was going to ****** me up at a moments notice.

Maybe it was the way he loved me;
strong and firm like an oak tree,
wild and free like the waves crashing against the shore,
loyal and passionate like a king fighting for his kingdom's safety,
soft and caring like a mother to her newborn child.

Maybe it was the way I loved him;
more than any words in any language could ever express,
more than any action could express.

Maybe it was the way these things made me feel happiness.

Maybe it was the way they made me feel okay.

c.r.k.

it hurt to hurt,
and watch them hurt,
but we had to hurt,
because if we didn't,
then the hurt wouldn't go away,
and if the hurt didn't go away,
then we'd never stop being hurt,
and it would be a never-ending cycle
of watching them hurt,
while i hurt too.

I wish to get lost in you,
the way you smell like smoke and mint,
the way your laugh resonates off every wall,
the way your eyes change from blue to green,
the way your smile only curves a little,
even the way you look when your sad.

I hope to get lost in you,
so make sure nobody gives me a map.

writers
block
is
the
worst
thing
imaginable.

doing what you want,
and what everyone
else wants is never
the same thing.

i believe bad things happen to good people because they will handle it with a calming sense of grace.

unlike the bad people,
who will destroy everything they touch.

thats just how it is.
the good people always get ******* over in the end.

i love it.

the pain,
the absolute torture,
of my heart ripping itself up,

at first i hated all it entailed,
but now i **** up for fun,
because the shockwaves of aching
is what keeps me up a night,

it livens my body,
i walk around in pieces,
yet i've learned to live with being unfinished,

and maybe it won't get better,
but at least i've learned to love the pain

it's funny how
all those years
of blowing away
eye lashes, and
dandelions, and
blowing out
birthday candles,
never really works.

it's easier to trip,
than it is to
catch yourself

just like it's
easier to fall
in love, than
fall out of it

i hate you.

i can't stand the lies behind your eyes,
and the fact that you can look at me like that.

like everything will be okay,
and that somewhere inside you care.

then, when i need you to look at me
and say i love you.

you look to each of your friends
and laugh in my face.

i will not love someone,
who is afraid to love me.

love is like pulling on a rope
you know is going to break

i think i might actually
be mentally ******* insane.

*****.

as the smoke traveled between our mouths in a sensual dance,
i knew he was the one i wanted to spend late nights,
and early mornings with,
huddled together under his cheap,
wool comforter,
his favorite flannel hung carelessly on my figure,
and my favorite perfume left forever attached to his pillows.

i shouted from rooftops,
i screamed across oceans,
i bellowed from the top of a mountain,
i made every sound i possibly could,
i yelled until my lungs burned,
yet, you still couldn't hear me say,

*"I'll love you, until my last days."

i've liked guys before, and i've thought that i was in love, but with you it's different. when i hear your name my stomach clenches so painfully, it needs a few minutes to recover. and sometimes i catch myself thinking of you, and how you seem to have the prettiest eyes i've ever seen. like i've always thought that green eyes were gorgeous, but yours are blue and god ****** they are ******* beautiful. i could stare at them all day. then there those times when i watch a movie and someone says something funny, i would think of how you'd laugh at it. you know, those laughs where you squeeze yours eyes shut tight, and open your mouth wide. those real, deep-bellied laughs that make me smile so ******* wide it hurts. sometimes during sad parts when the boy leaves the girl crying, i'd think of you holding me, allowing me to feel the warmth radiating off you. i hate you for this, i really do. i don't want to feel pathetic for pining over someone who will never love me, but no matter what i do, you always manage to creep right back up to the front of my mind. i wish love was easy, and i wish you loved me too. but i think thats what makes love so special. it teaches you to grow, and become a better person. it'll make you so ******* happy, and mind-numbingly sad, but then the other people you love will help to make it better. love is in everyone, and everything. and to me, you are my everyone and everything.

love has no limitations
or rules to abide by,
no age limit,
no gender specifics,
no culture restrictions,
and no expiration date,
love is simply love

I etched your name into my skin with a cigarette.
I filled your empty space with liquid poison.
I deluded your image with vivid dreams.
I forgot your scent with unwavering time.
Despite all this though, I never actually forgot you.

brought down,
in need of fixing

i'm always too little
i'm always too much
all i ever wanted,
was to be just enough

the feeling slowly creeps up my spine,
shocks my finger tips,
and edges into the inner workings of mind.

"try to distract yourself."
"you'll be okay."

i don't want words of wisdom,
i want the feeling of gut-wrenching relief,
that heinous piece of medal would give me.

all i'd have to do is sneak away,
and drag it across my flesh,
whilst thinking of all my inner and outer tormentors.

i'd finally have that feeling where everything stops,
and the only thing my mind would register is the pain.

you all say i'm better than that,
i'm worth more than my demons say.

but maybe i'm not,
maybe i'm perfectly content with not being okay.

If I were perfect would you love me?

If my waist was pencil thin would you spare me a glance?
If my hair was long, and flowing would I have a chance?
If I could look like an angel with no make up at all,
would you catch me when I fall.

Sadly I know that you won't.
You like perfect girls.

I'm far from perfect,
we both know that.

c.r.k.

one day i'm scared
i'll dig too deep
and get buried underground

for once in my life,
can i be the girl who finally gets the guy?

you left the lights on,
but they weren't for me,

you left dinner out,
but it wasn't mine,

you left the t.v. on,
but it wasn't playing my shows,

you left piles of clothes on the front porch,
but those were definitely mine

you were beethoven,
i was the piano and it's keys,
it's a travesty really,
how easy it was for you to play me

i'm getting dizzy from
spinning in circles
with you

stop coloring inside the lines,
and paint the whole **** page.

vendors shouting prices for the goods they can't afford,
birds singing painful tunes in tribute to the sun,
mothers yelling at their restless children,
still tired from fighting with dad last night,
steam blowing from cracks in the old brick buildings,
stoners taking hits and sharing pipes with kicks,
shooting poison in their veins
and killing their chances of waking up in the morning,
food sizzling and boiling, grilling, cooking , and even broiling,
smells from old shoes, garbage, day-old chinese take out,
dwelling helplessly in the dark abyss also known as the alleyway,
high class women walking proudly in heels,
with cellphones to their ears,
partygoers stumbling in huddles down the street,
reminiscing about last nights rave,
alcohol still in their veins
the sun hasn't yet come up,
but the city never sleeps,
and neither should we

January 21, 2014.

One day this will just be another date.
And 2014 will just be another year on a long timeline.

And the music we thought was cool; will be old.
And the music before today's generation; will be ancient.
And the generations before that; will be unheard of.

All the movies we thought were amazing, will be nothing but *"classics" to them.
All the books that Hemingway and Jane Austen wrote will cause them to have to think about where they've heard those names before.

Time is not manipulative.
You can not pause it.
You can not rewind it, nor fast forward it.

Yet, you can live in it.

So, live for now, not then.

c.r.k.

If I think about you even for a moment, all of it comes back.

The tears running down your face, staining your porcelain skin,

the screaming that left your throat raw and bleeding,

the late nights trying to convince you that it'll be okay,

but all that was for nothing,

your gone now,

and I'm free from it all,

but I'm also numb.

Numb all over.

c.r.k.

time has no limit,
but youth does.

i'm scared of
drowning in too much space

you may bend me to break me,
but all you create is another fold,
and another reason to hate you

why do the people we love,
want to love other people?

a broken heart is like
suffocating in air

as much as i tell myself i don't want you,
and that i hate you,
or that we'll never work out,
there's that part of me that's shouting,
"You love him!" on the sidelines.

i keep telling myself that i don't want you,
and that you'd never want me,
but once i finally move on,
i see your face and it's all over.