He could only described her as a girl of everywhere and nowhere. She was clearly the light of the party, as she swayed her hips to the booming music and laughed foolishly with her friends. The trophy girlfriend to the promising quarterback with her classy style and lopsided grin that was nothing but cute. And she knew it too. She was never- could never- be oblivious to the eyes that followed her every move. But she didn't care either. Why should she? Everything she did was perfectly glorious, and when she slipped up, she laughed, throwing her head back and apologizing in between blushes. How could anybody hate that?
He had seen her, one night, as he was driving home from the convenience store, in the 1 am blues with nothing to keep him company but a pack of ramen noodles. She was walking home with a flock of her friends, all of them high on each other and the cold night sky. It was intoxicating, to say the least.
Her smiles filled up every shadow and raided every spare thought, but she was hardly any more than the girl every guy wanted, and the girl people wanted to be. She knew it herself- after high school she would be an nobody. A shining star could only last so long. In the depths of the night, after the giddy of it all wore away, she was just another girl, counting the days until it all went away.
Grab my hand and hold it tight
Don't let go, my heart depends on you
Let me treat you with the respect you deserve
I trust you
Do you trust me?
We'll fall into tomorrow
my poeticness is fading
I am the stars, the mountain tops, the rivers, and bays.
My hand touches yours even 3,000 miles away.
I share the pains of ever dying stars and fading dream.
I mourn the London hope that deems impossible.
I come from a family too broken that I can't pinpoint where is all went wrong. My memory is too blurred to tell the beginning from the end. Your words were a trap that lured my too young body, my too naïve mind into a realm of darkness. Into a universe of supernovas and explosions. And yet still, I pity you. I fight for your name and defend the honor that shattered my own.
My cosmos, my being, my will is not mine anymore, but a figment of your influence. When mother dear left me all alone with father, I was another girl living in a world not ready for her.
I am a beautiful whirlwind or pain, hope, sorrow, and birth.
I am a girl equally divided between the stars and scars.
let me be your girl
and all the inbetween
ill be the the moon, the sun
the stars and the seas
ill be the rain, the snow
the hail, and the heat
i could tell you all i know
and all youll ever feel
ill be your crash course
the cause of your all-nighters
ill be your wake up call
and the whisper in your dreams
ill be everything i could ever be
ill be yours
i could be yours.
Your being is like an elephant in the room sitting in the dry air. Our conversations are spoken through the dead pauses and flailing topics.
I'm trying. I really am.
But I don't understand us. I don't understand the way your eyes flicker left to right when you're nervous, or how your fingers pull on the bottom of your pants when you're irritated. I can't understand the face that your laughter sounds like a million symphonies playing at the same time, or how your jokes fall flat. Not because they aren't funny, but because you want them to **** a mood.
These past few months have been more liberating than I care to admit. I found my own routine in the disorder and I'm slowly rising to where I want to be. But it's like I've hit a brick wall with a door but no key. I am left breathless and confused after every day.
I'm talking to the moon because nobody else is listening. Nobody else will ever understand me except me...and I want to keep it that way.
just random thoughts that don't exactly flow and aren't very poetic
I am born from one million dreams, a farmer, and a Laos flag- well, half of one anyways. I talk about London not only as a dream, but as a part of me that I can never achieve. Because it has been 3 years since I have seen your smiling face not within a memory...so it goes.
My mother was a glowing ball of light in my life. If she was the sun, everyone is just a planet, revolving around her glow. And I'm a star, never measuring up to her beaming light. She was the sun, a sun that exploded into a million pieces, never to return again.
I live in the New York City hustle. My nightlight is the traffic and my lullaby is Time Square mania. I feel like I'm constantly run over by the cars, a roadblock at every turn.
Five more years Four more years
I'm counting every. single. day. Another day closer to my London fantasy, to leaving my life in the ditch, to reinventing myself however I choose to be.
I catch light and throw it back to the universe trembling; falling
as I once did now 17 years ago
Energy within my core...I am filled with unpracticed elegance, a girl unafraid of pause
Unafraid to bend and to rise
My mind is restless, flying, soaring above the clouds
My hair gleams of silver
My heart of filth, blood, and terror
I radiate passion: eyes a deep glorious boundless void
Happy Birthday to me