i told my mother
the other night about how
i've never really felt a sense of
accomplishment whenever i
really do accomplish something,
because i have this unending burdening
inside me that bids my brain, and other
extremities around me to be obligated to do such things,
and extraneous tasks at all costs.

or else.

and she just looked at me with
sad vacant eyes,  and then i said i also have
experienced very little joy in life, which
i think my father can relate to if he would
actually talk about it, or his feelings, or anything
at all, really.

i still find myself wondering if living with
myself has been punishment enough for the times
i have done wrong in the eyes of others. i don't want to but
then i go back to a place when i was just a girl, trying to be the
right amount of “just enough” for an approving
smile, or nodding gesture. it didn't stop there, obviously. it carried on, into my current chapter, i keep grasping the pages of each day and rip them from the spine of my own flawed
little life story just to keep it from
unraveling completely.

but that's how it's supposed to be, you
keep waking up, even when something truly
terrible happens. even when you are devalued,
drained of your former self, and possibly brainwashed,
maybe. strangers will say that they can't believe your
so-called strength, or whatever, while you exist in pure disgust and
shame that this is really happening. you want to manually
unhinge your own jaw and crack open your head about it. this is really happening.

in the meantime, i think forgiveness is a weapon.
however, it's best used against its perpetrator. at least that's
my take on the subject at hand. and i know it's not
the most karmic way of looking at it but my finger is
definitely on the trigger,

and all my friends and family are asking me

"for what?"

today i listened to music and cried
for the first time in
a really long time
it still hurts

i had a dream
and you were briefly in it
i woke up
and the room was
spinning
i put my glasses
on
and suddenly
the thought of you
was


gone

sitting on s cameron waiting for the
light to turn,
waking up for the morning commute
just like that indie electronica group
said i would. thinking about the various
ways i’ll allow myself get taken
advantage of today.
the city smells like ****
and desperation. to be honest,
i think i fit right in.

i cut up my apple then read a few
documents to sign my life away right
back where it came from,
notwithstanding the foregoing.

i am my own dog that
licks the peanut butter off the
spoon now.

i looked up what it meant to share
a traumatic bond and found myself in a
cyclical state between two resentful
mannequins strung against
time and other insatiable
responsibilities.

there was always an emptiness inside.

i put the knife down and think of
all the green onions i've minced in my entire life
to serve dinners in a home that felt like
a coffin.

we will have to try again later.

i'm swingin in slowly,
entirely and wholey
like my mother used to tell me
i'm just trying to figure out where i belong

i'm homesick for a home
i've never known
and a home is not a home
when you're on your own

i'm crawling in quietly,
softly and slightly
like my mother used to tell me
"you won't get far by just stringing yourself along"

you've got a lot to say
when you sigh
and you don't say anything
like:
you don't know what it's like
and:
you've too young to understand these things
you're being a fog that's settled at dawn
you're fighting the urge to lay down and yawn
you like to sleep
only for the hell of it
i like to sleep
so i can dream
dreams of sighs that say everything,
a glance that radiates what your thoughts sing
a moment where all things feel invincible
where it all comes into place
you don't say anything at all

"misery loves company"*
then why do i feel
so alone?

i had a dog once
i think he still loves me
i used to kiss his nose
and take him for walks

when he got scared i held him in my arms
i squeezed him when he shivered
i remember his soft ears and whiskers
i think he still loves me

he is a good boy and i told him
everyday

we look into houses at night
and tell ourselves, that will be us one day"
illuminated by the idea that "us" and "one day"
will remain eternal
this runs through
our high-strung,
heart-strung,
minds
our bodies,
sprawled out
like the conglomeration of constellations that  
we look up into the sky at night
it's because we're trying to find something inspiring,
something awe-striking and divine
but we already are
we are ***** and demanding
we are spiralling and spinning
into the universe that longs for us -
we are illuminated
by the light that spills from houses at night

it's ok

in the night i think i
am alive i think i am
swinging and swigging
from bottles and living
my life like it doesn't exist.

in the night i think i
am swimming in the
darkness. flinging on
a sad abysses. i think
i need to stop for a minute.

i just want to say
i have nothing to
say. i just want to
know how far it
takes to let my world
go. i want to be it
for you. in the night

i think i could be the right
one.

i wonder 
if it’s like de ja vú

listening to the same ****** music

in the same ****** car

on the same ****** road 

i wonder 
if you glance over while going 60 in a 25

and wish you’d spontaneously combust

when the person beside you 
isn’t me

because i do every night

this life i've orchestrated
is left dangling in these
unwashed hands of mine
the waves of time
are swimming in sorrow
and the waves of time
are running out
it's like i'm missing the punchline
to the joke
and the punchline is
that you aren't coming back
when will we realize that we
aren't really here
for a reason?
we are only here to exist
we are like god's paper dolls:
getting dressed up to impress no one
getting depressed to appeal to no one
when you are too busy falling in love to
comprehend this,
the lines become blurred
the universe becomes intrusive,
and you are immersed in mercy
smeared in the sanity
that you can't even grasp
then suddenly
the waves of time
knock your feet
right from underneath you
and you



drown.

i can tell you how i feel later
i know you only want to hear about
the happy stuff -
sugar-coated lies always taste better anyway

I WANT:
to visit history musems
and make our own.
i want to take walks
down old beaten paths,
and see sunsets in unfamiliar places
I WANT:
to breathe in your sigh
while looking at the harvest moon,
hold your weary face in the morning
and murmur,
"everything will be alright"
I WANT:
to transcend my happiness
into your chest
I WANT:
to believe that
cold winter nights
aren't just the memories
only you love,
I WANT:
what we *aren't

i would write about you
but i don't want to share you
i would say:
"our lips were carved perfectly for one another's to fit"
(and more ******* like that)
i would say:
"my heart feels like a shaken up bottle of coke every time you look at me
and when you press your mouth against the can, i explode
i would say:
"my name sounds like music when it dances on your tounge"
i would say:
"isn't it funny that all of this -
and i still can't love you?"

i write the best
when i am sitting alone in my room
and thinking of you
i write best
when you are the footsteps
inside my head
traveling the spiralling staircase of my consciousness
and you are about to
jump
i write best
when i am spinning and marveling, and just sighing your name
into an empty room
i fill it up with your essense
i bottle you up
then i spit you out
through words on a piece of paper,
i evacuate every other thought in my head
and i,
breathe you in
i write best when i am alone in my room
and
i feel best when i am alone in my room
with you

i like it when you look at me
except
i just don't think
you really look at me
maybe it's because  
i'm not the one you wanted to see
or maybe it's because
i'm looking for
an unspoken apology

i'm really happy
i swear i'm happy
i smile 'til my
face screams
and everyone asks,
"how are you, addie?"

i like it when you think about me
except
i just don't think
you really think about me
maybe it's  because
you don't even know me
or maybe it's because
you see right through me

i'm really okay
i swear i'm okay
i shrug my shoulders
and i sigh all day
and nobody ever asks
"are you sure you're okay?"

everything is temporary
i think to myself momentarily
as i stand and watch the river's flow
like the blood
in my veins
but no longer yous
and i ask myself
"where do we go?"
but i sigh in relief
and smile to myself
because for you,
there is no more pain

there's nothing wrong with a little inspiration
put the blindfold on
and you're off to your new destination
you close your eyes and feel the vibrations
when you're on your knees and need a little motivation
baby let me be it

there's nothing wrong with a little medication
they send you home with a bottle
and you try to escape the depression
when you're alone in bed and want the temptation -
baby let me be it

there's nothing wrong with a little obsession
turn the lights out and let me give you some affection
attention, attention,
all you need is some protection -
baby let me be it

let me crack open your already fractured skull,
and clean up the mess inside
these nimble fingers of mine
ache to be laced within yours
and i let me tear
the pages of a broken childhood
from your family photo albums
so we can write a new story
of kissing all the boo boos
and searching for the monsters under your bed
we can take the flashlights
out behind the rows of pine trees at night
and let me make shadow puppets of a life reimagined  
there's a breeze that flows
through the familiarity of this feeling
you can find it in the kitchen sink,
this shattered old bathroom mirror,
and a living room that never really felt alive
they don't matter anymore
and it's as if you never even lived here at all
and the boy stands in front of me
in the shadows of a second life
with a fractured skull and menthol breath
stringed with words that roll off his tongue
like barbed wire
because you don't even know yourself
and you're a fighting for a chance
at a life worth living
but these things will pass -
in and out of a melancholy mind of yours
while i remain on the bedroom floor
of the house you spent years trying to escape
cleaning up the mess inside your head

i wanna smell like
cigarettes
i wanna smell like
gloom
i wanna smell like
cigarettes
i wanna smell like you

i don't wanna be a little girl
i wanna be unseen
i  don't wanna be in between
i just wanna be your dream

something tells me
not to do it
when your eye are in my view
so instead just watch me pass
right on
through

your limbs will break
faster than the construct
of reality if you can
just hold me for the rest
of this
song

i'm sorry i thought
that you could be this
strong

maybe it's the
distance between
our fingers -

or maybe
it's the distance between
each day

i just remember singing along
like i knew all of the words

i try to feel safer about my whereabouts
whenever i'm alone
ever since the security guard at the club
stopped me and asked me not once,
not twice, but four or five times
if i was carrying mace on me
and was astonished every time i
repeated the phrase “no!”
anxiously while he was checking my bag
upon entry.

because it's heavily implied that women can't exist
without some choice of weapon
against the type of men who want to ask
why we're not already defending ourselves
against them when they've established
their weird *** interest while conducting
a security check. i guess.

i think if i did in fact
have mace on me,
his face would have been the first
i'd  have maced.

so like, what flavor mace should i get, guys?

geometry is hard to do

1+2= i like you

let's go read a book, instead

sometimes it feels like
the air's escaped my lungs
or a symphony of synchronized sighs or maybe even a free fall into the fog at night
i know that it's been a while
even though it still ****** like a pinwheel spinning in gusts of wind going 90 mph
or maybe like the air's been ****** out of my lungs
or maybe like a river runs out of my crying eyes
or maybe
i'm just...
being
******* dramatic

sticky and sweet
synthetic acai
slips off my tongue.
driving home in
oblivion,
but always ready for bed.
thank you for being my
favorite friend.

let's take a trip down memory lane:
endless alleys of admiration
capture the moments we took for granted
these loveless sidewalks
radiate desperation
as we watched the little things
slip our attention

let's take a trip down memory lane:
the city streets pulsate your name
and embody the countless emotions
that we both possessed
but can you  tell me -
do you feel this boundless
corrosion found inside my chest?

ok
this is the part
where i say
"i am mismatched
like a pair of socks"

ok
this is the part
where you say
"that's ok,
i never wore matching socks
anyway."

i'll probably end up  between
somewhere and nowhere
between the middle and the end
i'll probably just float away
and you'll all think I'm dead

mortality -
it's what means we are all
alive
mortality -
it's what means that we will all
die

i'll probably end up between
here and there
between the bottom and the top
i'll probably just fade away
and I just can't wait til it stops

my inspiration
lies in the palms
of your calloused hands,
drips from them like
wine onto
the floor -
into my mouth

my words are going to hit you.
so hard,
you forget your first name.
the paintings etched on your skin
will now be our story
and i want your
cigarette-stained fingertips
to burn holes into
my skin -
set me on fire.
my words are going to stay with you
while you're not
holding your breath
on bridges,
tunnels,
elevators,
traintracks...
and while my face would be turning blue,
with lack of oxygen.
my words are
so precisely
and concisely
constructed into sentences,
that are never spoken,
never whispered,
uttered,
or murmured;
but they are written down
for you to read.
so please -
touch my face
tell me you love me
then *set me on fire.

and there's one thing i can't tell:
if it's you
or this winter weather
that's got me feeling so
blue

i've never loved a pair of blue eyes
just seas of green and everything in between

i've never been a part of something larger
just floating around in an endless harbor

i've never laughed with such conviction
accompanied with the feeling of a bare existence

i've never chosen to be loved so easily
but with you it comes so peacefully

november screamed
breaking at the seams
waiting to be free
aching to be relieved
october was you and me
october danced
felt like flying above the world
and made the real-life problems
look like ants
october breathed,
october was you
and me

slow motion and we're walking in the sand
it sounds stupid but its not
every little sound that's comin from your mouth
goes right through my ears
right through my fingertips
right to the smile on my lips

i wish we were
walking in the rain
on the beach in
october
i wish
we were talking
in the rain
on the beach in
october

i wouldn't care about
my hair
in the rain on the beach
in october
in the rain
on the beach in
october

i wish we were
walking together
in this rainy weather
in october
on the beach in october
in the rain

Peter Pan had nothing on you
truely a Lost Boy,
Sad but charming
no direction
but only a destination
Off to Never-Neverland
don't like Metallica
but sure do like you.