Somedays I wish





you and I




would get caught alone

in a life and death situation where nothing matters anymore and any responsibilities or complications that used to exist have faded because we are going to die anyway so I could find out what is really on your mind, so I could tell you everything, because why not at that point? So I could tell you everything I've done, how I really feel and why I did so many things, everything that has happened to me, and hope that maybe, in our last moments of life, you would understand.

I don't write for pity,
or attention or friends.
I write for myself,
I write instead of bleeding.
My poems are personal,
Not written for others.
I share them because
I want to touch someone.
Maybe we can all stop being alone.

I don't like good dreams because when I wake up I realize how impossible what my mind just made up really is.

MY MOTHER AND I IN THE CAR:

Mom: What ever happened to that boy you told me about?

Me: Oh, we kind of just stopped talking.

WHAT EACH OF US REALLY MEANT:

Mom: So, are you in some kind of secret relationship I don't know about? Are you meeting people without me hearing about it? Are you sneaking out at night to drink and do drugs and strip and sleep with boys? Do you have a love life? Tell me about everything so I can know every little detail of your life, freak out about it, obsess over it and lock you in a tower so you never ever date anyone ever or have any kind of a life because I am worried about you and I don't trust you but I love you so I am going to be as overprotective as physically possible.

Me: He turned out to be someone different than who I thought he was.
And also I don't trust you we have a terrible mother-daughter relationship and I will never confide in you because you would never understand that emotions are not logical and you are not always right mom. I love you, but I could never put my faith in you or count on you to carry me when I am broken.

I think I'd like to have a British accent that sometimes randomly morphs into a Russian one.

I was dancing
With him
I didn't even know him until I was in his arms
Handsome, though I hardly care
Charming, but because of his soul, not his words
And warm, in a way that wasn't physical
He held me like he knew what he was doing
Like I would be safe with him
Like a promise
In the most beautiful white dress
And I was beautiful
The most beautiful girl there
Everyone wanted to dance with him
But he chose me
And I couldn't believe it
We danced all night
And of course
I messed up the steps
Tripping over myself
Clumsily, as usual
But Lord I was beautiful still
And he just smiled and somehow found it lovely, that I was imperfect
He whispered to me
And we danced and danced
And I was beautiful
**Then I woke up