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528 · Aug 2015
Artificial Fear
I want to compose fear.
I want to put the feeling into words.
   into thoughts.
      into emotions.
I want the readers to know what it's like.
I want them to feel their hearts drop from their bony cages.
   like a plane into concrete.
      like the tears of your father.
August 2nd, 2015 10:19p.m.
I saw myself falling and falling
Getting hung up on every little tree branch
Every bump in the road
And I realized it was time to cut the excess
I drew my knife and sliced at all that was holding me back
   feeling the sinew tear at the blade
I lightened my load to the bare bones and ran
I ran towards all that I dreamt of
I have never needed all those things holding me back
I needed myself
The security blankets wrapped so heavily around me were nothing but
The security I needed is in my mind
August 2nd, 2015 12:41a.m.
I want the stars to whisper to me without words all the things they've seen and heard and follow me everywhere I go.

Little gossiping flickers all buzzing about my head.

When the stars are with me every step I take I'm never alone.

And if I can't see them through the fiery haze of the daylight I know they are still there, only unseen, and I'll be able to whisper endless conversations with them without uttering a single word when night falls back down like the curtains on an unrehearsed play.

I would wait through the longest melodrama like the protagonist whose soliloquy was left backstage with his courage knowing the stars are waiting to discuss all that has happened while we couldn't converse.

As they go on and on about how delightful you were at tea that day I'm so caught up in watching you sleep soundly, tucked in a blanket of black night air, that their babbling all becomes twinkling white noise.

My feet carry me toward your sleeping state on their own accord; my hands scattering the whispering stars like the brooms of cleaning housewives. I stand over you in awe and your sleeping eyes drift open to mine.

My eyes witness a new night sky flowing from yours and the existence that once held so tightly to the solid ground it found in the every-day night sky has taken flight into a new galaxy
May 3rd, 2015; 11:49p.m.
I think
The best metaphor for you
Is my little Honda that barely functions.
I poured time and money
Oil and sweat and passion
Into machinery nearly as old as i am
Just to get it to run.
Every time it breaks down
I instantly show up ready to fix it,
Pouring all my energy into it.
The thing is,
I spend more energy on it
Than the amount of joy or convenience it ever gives back.
We have a few good times every once in a while.
But then it’s another broken valve.
Another communication
vehicular breakdown.

-C.R.H. 3:03p.m. 2/27/15
C.R.H. 3:03p.m. 2/27/15
426 · Mar 2015
Steering Wheel
I myself cannot change the position of the heavens; it is a task a bit too taxing for a creature bound by the confines of its own mind. But in the confines of my own mind I can change. By changing my direction- my point of view- to the heavens may I ever change their position. Don’t believe I have contradicted myself. You see, in this change of perception comes a steering wheel on the runaway-vehicle-like facade of life. Changing our perception can change the position of the moon and stars for the better or worse and who controls that is simply the beholder of this knowledge. I am at the helm of my life’s ship and with the willpower to survive, I will change my perception to horizons enamored with success.
C.R.H. December 24th, 2014 9:15p.m.
The way you smiled at him is still painted on me like burn marks

The image twists itself in favor of my pessimistic mind each time it surfaces like an ugly drawn out slideshow about the progression of lost hope

-your eyes getting softer, chasing your lips-

-his hand getting closer to your hips-

If I could control everything in this world I would lose my mind but if it would ease this troubled mind I would make every decision in your favor

I sat in the drivers seat waiting

waiting for a passenger

I knew if the gear shift ever left neutral without a life worth protecting seated carefully in one of the four seats that the tiny, two door, import sports car was going to find itself unmoving for an eternity and still in fifth gear.

in a ditch, against a wall, around a tree, the first thing I would have seen once that tiny, two door, import sports car and I reached one hundred and eleven miles per hour
C.R.H. November 27th, 2014 1:22a.m.
He said, "It must be nice, to sleep in and nap all day"
He said, "I'd like to try it some time"
And in my head the monologue began:
"It's all that I'm good for"
"It's all I can do without ******* it all up"
"But even that's a lie"
"Because I can't even sleep anymore"
She said, "What's bothering you"
I let out a 'nothing is bothering me'
And it was true.
She said, "If you need to talk you know we're here"
And I thought, "I wish it were something I could do"
July 21st, 2015 8:45p.m.
410 · May 2015
The Texts I Never Sent
"I SAW ALL THE PEOPLE I SUNK ALL MY TIME INTO AND HOW HAPPY THEY WERE WHEN THEY'D WALK AWAY AND I DECIDED MAYBE I WANTED TO BE HAPPY TOO"

"BUT NOW IM ALL ALONE AND USELESS BECAUSE I DECIDED TO STICK UP FOR MYSELF AND STOP BEING USED"
May 21, 2015 11:58p.m.
384 · Mar 2015
Untitled
I'm a ratty haired mess

I'm floundering in ice skates

I long for your arms
C.R.H. (date unknown)
371 · May 2015
Eyes Like "Darling"
Explain why you do this to me.

Explain why I'm left with my heart racing.

Every time you leave me with a "darling"

I fall another hundred feet for you.

The way your eyes pierce with skepticism;

The way they soften in realization and lighten with your smile;

It will do my head in, I swear.
May 5th, 2015; 1:13p.m.
359 · Mar 2015
Strewn Out Tissue Pieces
You’re right about me tearing myself apart
I tear myself apart. I do it a lot.
Like the tissues that I pull apart in my hand while I cry in unison with my mother in her arms because neither of us can take the fact that I can’t keep myself together.
Like the skin on my hands and knees when I’m out with my friends acting like fools in the street.
What do you expect—we’re still just kids.
It’s what kids do.
Whether it’s hearts, society, or the walls we’ve built around ourselves, we
tear things apart.
C.R.H. December 4th, 2014 4:53p.m.
~As the car crested the hill side drive at 10:03p.m. I witnessed lightning prance along the skyline like fawns and for a split second I lifted from my glazed over state and felt moved.
~Now it's Midnight all I can think of is you and how I might convince you to stay with me for a while and, Dear, quite frankly, I'm at a loss save this one particular idea.
~I may not be able to give you forever and I **** well won't promise it to you because we both know right now it's preposterous to say something so everlasting when our mortal bodies are so limited.
~But I can give you the nights together that we still have to experience.
~I can promise to never leave your side emotionally because, obviously, we're not as blessed as the lovers who live next door to each other thus being around each other physically is a plain challenge.
~As the looming shadow of a higher education chills me I know this much:
  -there are hands to be held
  -sweet nothings to be told
  -and there are nights meant to be spent together.
~There is only one person I can stand to give my time to at this point and at the same time I'm dying to soak up all of theirs.
~And that person is you.
C.R.H. May 10th, 2015; 12:45a.m.
292 · May 2015
A Conversation
C: "._. I hate this"

A:"why?"

C:"It's like having to wear a coat that's several sizes too big and everyone can see how awkwardly you're standing there but you can't take off the coat because you know you'll freeze to death"

A:"hey but big coats are in fashion"
A:"it's all good"

C:"Even when the sleeves are hanging over your hands?"

A:"but it's okay bc you'd look great in that coat"

C:"But would I do that coat justice"

A:"yes"
May 4th, 2015; 10:31a.m.
282 · Mar 2015
Untitled
Let me hear your lies

Weigh down my cries for the sake

Of calming the storm
C.R.H. (date unknown)
249 · Mar 2015
Untitled
I am astonished

To give and not receive is

No sort of romance
C.R.H. January 7th, 2015

— The End —