Five seconds
The amount of time it takes for you to hide the way you feel
Five seconds
How long it takes for me to believe your feelings are real
Six seconds
Hiding the feelings that you just let slip through
Because after those five seconds are up
You leave me feeling hopelessly confused
And I’ll admit that ever since,
My mind hasn’t stopped thinking
About you.
[That’s what a mere five seconds will do.]

you haven't talk to me since that night.
no text
no like, or comment.
cause I guess that's how things are now.

I still have your vacuum.
your expensive, high-tech vacuum.
but I haven't used it since you left.

I know it was me who initiated things.
I'm the one who told you to go.
We cried and hugged and kissed and it felt too beautiful to be it.
Too beautiful to be a break up.

it was your birthday.
and I want you to know I didn't forget.
I felt it creeping up on me like coming to the end of a roll of tape.

when will you call me?
will you ever?
I still have all all your things; too big to put in a box to hide.

you still had Sarah's bed frame in your garage and I wondered.
I wondered if this is what it'd be like.
But- you talked to her.
Does that make me stronger?
For not caving?

you said you needed space and I listened.
but I don't want to listen to myself.
I want to break the stitches and gush to you.
I want to break the silence and talk to you.
But I respect you too much to put that on you.

I made the decision to be alone,
but now I realize that I don't want to be.

so I'm looking for someone.
But I don't want serious.

but then what do I want?

It makes me fill with something.
some gas, or thing
maybe not jealousy
but something close to it
when I see that you care about astrology
now
though you thought it was stupid

you wanted to teach me
I didn't want to be taught
but you loved me so I sat through your lessons plan your rambling facts on things I don't care one bit about filing up my mental real estate like krisp, klean, kondos in the North end- but you understand that now.

maybe I taught you?
I'm not sure either of us would admit to that.

why did I find it so hard to create with you beside me. Like my energy was being ****** up from me turning to sloth when my whole life I've been hungry, absolutely insatiable but now so full I could barely move.

is that love? did your love steal my magic?

and I wouldn't say steal. more like weighed on. more like dampened. but you held me so tightly I love you I lvoe you I love you sweet boy I still love you even if I need to be alone right now.

I don't want to feel like I need to be alone forever.

I had so many conversations with so many people. You know about Hannah, but there were so many. They all told me to leave. But- I don't know if this is any better. I don't know if me sitting and listening and being idle is worse than this spouting, plunging, hole.

but you never opened up, did you?
things you said we'd talk about- therapy sessions you said you'd go to.

I wonder if you'll be shiny, sparkling clean for the next one.

all "fixed" and open and unrobotic and ready to share without tantrums and fast driving and me being scared for my life. I try to forget those parts. They seem like a different person. Someone who could **** me. Someone who could **** you.

my therapist once told me that she didn't think I would go through with it. But when I saw you like that, I believed you could. I think that scared me the most.

Flippant. Uncaring. But- you were everything. I saw everything in you- the devious aggressor and the gentle pathetic victim. but there was no spark. there. I said it. There was no spark. But I cannot deny that it was a slow flame- and it lulled me into a soft sleep.

I'm not asleep. but I want to be now.

Patrick always said that I wasn't really there. I know what he means now. I don't know if I have the energy to be. I used to be so full of life and zest and now I feel like a sponge so full of the fuckery of it all without a way to ring it out.

and I guess that's why I'm writing again. Because I don't know if I want to talk. I don't want people to look at me like I'm ******. I know I'm ******.

so you're into astrology now.

we met at a dance from the back of the auditorium alone you were there
caressed your hand with my glove as a maiden flower that you were
crisp clear day until the rain came then she was beside herself
engulfed from the tender memories of when she was but a little child
honey bees with the melting of the blowing of the breeze hearts next to me
she grew sad now that the rain came down with her velvet eyes crying with tears of remorse
hopless said she in her land of make believe filled up her dreams
life is but a mystery draped across the tapestry of sullen apathy
a challenge to be free was a question of time she yawned in disbelief
now filled with sorrow se could help but feel sorrow then the tears flowed again lest i refrain
simple pleasure with simpler times with a plate of chesse a some store bought wine
billows fell beneath the squeeky wheel exposed to the very mere notion of laughter
tears became a mountain filled with pillows of desolation thoughts of her jewelry box
a wooden drawer with socks amids the moth ***** for this humble no it all
she is gone now in passing she sometimes comes to me in a dream with beautiful flowers
sweet perfumed personifications laced with white ivory emblems to taunt
then I awake to nothingness keeps me in great suspense until now that I'm old
let the truth be told of decorations in the parlor with grey cat sitting on a wooven mat
for I remember the place and will remember the time I held her in my arms to embrace

Now shallow peaks align the ridge where I treasured a red rose that was plucked a time ago
nestled bellow near the cobblestone a wooden structure with a broken hand let the reader understand...
thoughts of pop rocks with loli pops filter through my fragile egg shelled mind I'm going blind
ave a sip of coffee and give my foot a push,
Remembering simpler times with crazy door bell chimes with nursey rhymes
it has become customary for me to stare at the barren wall with long ago bullet holes to enhance my imaginative thought pattern
braided hair she used to wear with a touch of blush for make up when she was in a rush
yet now I awake to what ?

And I'm so ******* stupid to lose a girl like you. What was I thinking? Being a **** boy and then growing up without you here with me?

"Why are you afraid?"
That's what they always say.
It's always in sequence every day.

They ask me what's wrong.
They ask me how long.
Tell me to bottle it and just be strong.

Don't pull my trigger, trigger, trigger.
I'm falling apart into a million sparks.
Don't pull my trigger, trigger, trigger.
When the fear sounds alarm, I fall into the dark.

I have always prayed,
But the fear always stays.
Even with all the times I've tried to change.

They poke and they prong,
We'll never get along.
I guess I'll just go and write another song.

Don't pull my trigger, trigger, trigger.
I'm falling apart into a million sparks.
Don't pull my trigger, trigger, trigger.
When the fear sounds alarm, I fall into the dark.

Needle in your arm,
Why are you alarmed?
It's not like a seizure can cause you harm.

Bugs in your hair,
Fall in love if you dare,
Seems like triggers are everywhere.

Don't pull my trigger, trigger, trigger.
I'm falling apart into a million sparks.
Don't pull my trigger, trigger, trigger.
When the fear sounds alarm, I fall into the dark.

When her slippers don’t make
the sound she knows so well
on the scuffed, yellowed linoleum kitchen.

When the telly tells her
a boy that looks like her grandson
was out breaking windows last night.

When the kettle misses its turn
When there are no car horns
When her boy has not called since Wednesday.

When ice wraps the fading window
When her ears turn the colour of autumn
When she can’t find her glasses on her head.

When weather reporters don’t smile
When Stewart does not come home
When she remembers he will never be home

she worries.

Psychic spies from China
Try to steal your mind's elation
And little girls from Sweden
Dreams of silver screen quotation
And if you want these kind of dreams
It's Californication

It's the edge of the world
And all of western civilization
The sun may rise in the East
At least it settles in the final location
It's understood that Hollywood
Sells Californication

Pay your surgeon very well
To break the spell of aging
Celebrity skin is this your chin
Or is that war your waging

First born unicorn
******* soft ****
Dream of Californication
Dream of Californication

Marry me girl be my fairy to the world
Be my very own constellation
A teenage bride with a baby inside
Getting high on information
And buy me a star on the boulevard
It's Californication

Space may be the final frontier
But it's made in a Hollywood basement
Cobain can you hear the spheres
Singing songs off station to station
And Alderaan's not far away
It's Californication

Born and raised by those who praise
Control of population everybody's been there and
I don't mean on vacation

First born unicorn
******* soft ****
Dream of Californication
Dream of Californication

Destruction leads to a very rough road
But it also breeds creation
And earthquakes are to a girl's guitar
They're just another good vibration
And tidal waves couldn't save the world
From Californication

Pay your surgeon very well
To break the spell of aging
Sicker than the rest
There is no test
But this is what you're craving

First born unicorn
******* soft ****
Dream of Californication
Dream of Californication


By Anthony Kiedis / Michael Balzary / John Anthony Frusciante / Chad Smith
Californication lyrics © MoeBeToBlame

“Just another girl”
With a broken heart,
With trust issues,
With a victim label.

A broken heart at 19,
But **** it hurts like it was just yesterday,
Damage so severe I can barely find a heartbeat.

Trust issues rooted deep at the age of 3 hours old,
Abandoned by the “unconditional love” a mother has,
Afraid I would be just like my ****** ***** donor.

Labeled a victim sophomore year of high school,
Years of recovering and years to go,
Blamed and humiliated as if there were bright orange caution signs all around him.

“Just another girl” an unfair label as if we all hurt and feel the exact same.
You aren't “just another girl”
You are a beautiful soul that has been thrown around and can recover.