It had watched
her grow in a way
that a horticulturist
watched its own
creation sprout
and blossomed.
She had grown
like a rose; filled
with her own
thorns upon herself
that only came
to hurt others that
got too close but
in her own way,
beautiful.

Before every sunrise
It had opened its eyes
with a clank, like a coin
rattling inside a coin-
filled purse.
It was there to provide
the ambience of peak-
hour traffic; "Get off the
******* road you
******* lunatic. Where'd
you learn to ******* drive?"
would be the sound
that she woke up to every
morning. She has had
guests comment on its
vulgarity; but she defended
that it soothed her every
morning, and though
it was a recording
projected from speakers;
guests and visitors,
would denounce 'it'
as well as refute their
acceptance of 'it'.
She would gently tell it;
you're the best alarm,
and if she did not get up;
it would pull on her arm,
so she was always
moving in accordance to
her schedule.

She had been an orphan;
She still exists and lives,
as an orphan with her
orphan blood running
through her bloodstream;
and those who never
could understand what
it was like to be an orphan
would mutter "so you don't-
have a mum or dad, so what
it's not a big ******* deal;
it ain't like you're going to
be successful even if you did".
So came every night, though
the moon glowed upon her
pretty little face, she had
tears stream down her cheeks
that would reflect the moon's
gentle glow against her.
In a hollow home, nay!
In a hollow house, she
felt as though her sanity
was only stored by the whirring,
the buzzing, the sound that
mimicked a refrigerator from a
time before refrigerators were
considered 'in need of perfecting'.
On every night, it would read to her,
'as a mommy and daddy would'; she'd
use to say. Though it never had
an exciting tone and only ever
spoke in a monotonous way, she said
it had the mechanisms of being
the perfect parent a parent should
pursue to be.
It would read, every night 'Goldilocks
and the three bears' and though she had
grown up and grown old, it would
continue to read the same book and edition
as she had wanted. To her, listening to a
story was less to do with the story but
more to do with the comfort and reminder
that there is normalcy in her life that
mimics those of the child she had envied
at school. It would always after the
monotonous reading of 'Goldilocks
and the three bears', would include
a joke; "Do you wonder why the bears
had beds? I bet they bearly slept on them",
and though the joke was told a couple
thousand times, she had always giggled
at it's little joke. In the night, It would
close it's eyes, clank.

On one evening, she had invited a
male friend over for the night, it
would stand steadily still, inoperable
until commanded by her. It never
understood her connection to the
male friend, but it wasn't built to
understand. It watched as her mouth
connected to the male friend, it was
built with a action deciphering sequence,
so it determined that she was giving
him Cardiopulmonary resuscitation in a
standing position due to her lack of training.
It continued to let off its whirring sound,
an ordinary day ambient to her ears, but not
so much for her male friend. Her male friend,
in a quick procession of pushing her lips away to
saying "YOU'RE A FREAK. why do you have a
killing machine in your house?" He stormed out
before she even had a chance to explain its role
in her life.

In a stern and loud voice she screamed
'I want you to die!' and it responded in a gentle
voice, "what colour did you want to dye it?",
"******* and die!" she shouted with a flaring red face.
It did what it always does, responded to every command;
"There is no king here. That is an impossible request. Do
you have any other queries?" it had said in the most gentle
and softest voice that seemed almost like a whisper had it
not been monotonous. She shouted once again,
"DIE!" and as routine, it responded "A die is a cube
fitted with numbers to arrange a probability situation.
The sample space of a die is one to six".

She, tired of hearing it, muttered the words that
her late billionaire parents and maids regarded
as taboo; "PERMANENT TERMINATION!
EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY! I don't need you,
I have a cell phone, it does all that you do."

'My job is done'
Said the android
As it closed its eyes
One final time.
**Clank

It wasn't the common kind of sadness.
It was dark,
engulfing,
consuming.

It was a vast and dark ocean,
and I was nothing
but a tiny rock
thrown in it.

I sank hard,
I sank fast.
There at the bottom,
I stayed.

Never seeing.
Never leaving.

I thought I was over you.
But I still check my messages at two in the morning,
hoping your name will magically appear.
Asking me how my day went,
how I spent my afternoon.
Telling me you missed me.
I'm hoping.
I don't know why, but I still am.

I'm hoping you'll come back,
say sorry that you left me hanging.
I'd probably say it's okay,
that I didn't mind.
That we were both busy at that time,
and didn't really notice the silence slowly devouring us.
But I did and it hurt.
It hurt a lot.
But that's okay because it's you.
I could never be mad at you.

I'll always come back to you.

I saw you the other day
but you didn't notice me
when life becomes more
then you thought it was

Into and through your eyes
weaving in and out
all eyes on the road you said
all eyes on the road again

I couldn't imagine ever going at it
all alone without you
and now my numbers are down to one
face your fears you said,  stand tall
STAND TALL

We can all just smile now
the figure head has gone
temper and relief
in dreamland

I choose the unknown
I'll walk the path with blind eye
my love, my love
I left you to the void
I left you for dead
Now it is i
I am dead inside
I am sorry
it means little to nothing
but I am so very sorry

i couldn't stop looking at this girl. i glanced down at my black leather jacket, black v-neck, ripped blue jeans, and black boots with the buckles on the side. i popped my collar and set out to find the girl i'd just found. i noticed the lights of this weird indie club i'd somehow ended up in. this music isn't normal "club" music. it's all arctic monkeys. the lyrics of these songs empowered me, i felt as though i had to continue my search for this soul.  despite the darkness, i slid on my aviators to protect myself from those blinding lights, and also to give me a hint of mysteriousness. girls love that.
and then there she was.
sipping on what appeared to be a bottle of coke, but i couldn't tell because of the ******* sunglasses i was wearing. she was standing laughing with one of her friends. she had such a different aura to her. i couldn't help but watch as she pulled out one of her organic cigarettes.
"i wanna make her mine." i thought to myself.
the lights reflected off the sweat on the walls as i tried to keep my cool, strutting my way over to her, hoping to get her eyes to lock onto mine. from what i finally saw of her in plain sight, she had love in her eyes and perfect lighting over her; like a camera plus filter. she took drags of that cigarette like some kind of goddess, causing me to get weak at the knees and form a lump in my throat, which i soon managed to somehow swallow. i had to find out who she was. i wanted her more than i'd ever wanted anything, or at least so i recall. i played out the scene in my head - we'd dance, and numerous guys would approach her. it was hard not to. i'd overpower them. "she's with me.", i'd say cooly.
i didn't realize all this fantasizing about my mystery girl had taken me so little time, because by the time i was finished my train of thought, i was standing right in front of her. god, i wanted her so bad. i swear, if i looked at her long enough, she'd steal my soul. the love in her eyes was contradicted by the incredibly **** sparkle in her iris.
"hello there beautiful. you seem to be having a lovely time. you're absolutely breathtaking, i'm forced to believe you are a certified mind blower. what's your name, milady?"
with a turn of her head, a bat of her lashes, and a flash of her perfect smile, she answered me in the most angelic voice i've ever heard.
"arabella."

i’m seeing the 1975 tonight without you and i am thinking of all the times we talked about this, how i’d buy you a concert ticket if you bought a plane ticket and you said ‘you don’t understand how perfect that would be’ but i do i ******* do and now i have to trust myself not to get lost in the cheering crowd of the mosh pit without your arms there to pull me to safety.

He told me that I'm achingly silent
That it torments him
He stares, he waits
But no answer
Just watered black eyes gazing back at him

I said
That's because we don't mean anything we say to each other, anymore

Why can't you
be as
hopelessly in love
with me
as I am
with you?

Will you ever be,
or am I
a rock waiting
for the sun
to make
me a star?

A circle.

We were sitting in a circle together playing a game of tag with our eyes, trying to steal the thoughts and actions of the other when you looked at me in that way.

I talked to you all the time just like I did everyone else, and then I realized how I really saw you.

"you smell nice." and "that was cute." made things more genuine when they passed from your lips.

I mentally winked at myself like you did at me the first day.

fingers intertwined as you made jokes about holding my hand, you tried to make it less awkward by only making things a bright red color.

leaving was like standing up through a sunroof at full speed, so breath-taking that you don't realize how easy it is to slip until you lift your hands high.

(j.a.r.)