gabrielle boltz

gabrielle boltz Jun 2013

at fourteen she thought she knew what love was,
but I guess she thought she knew all kinds of things then.
she was one of those teenagers who didn't
hear when she was wrong, ever,
even when she knew it in the first place.

she would argue herself blue in the face
'til her mom's voice crackled
go to your room -

punishment for my loud mouth
and stubborn nature.

and at fifteen
that stubborn nature seemed to crumble
at the sound of his voice,
the soft scent of his skin -
because
she thought she knew what she was doing.
because she always thought she knew what she was doing,
reality was very much different from
the world she wove in her head,
but she still thought she knew what love was,
so she gave in.

at sixteen she looked back on some of those
choices she had made.
saw them in their most transparent form,
by the effects that they had on herself;
on how she saw herself.
learning things she should have
learned at 20, or 25 -
but (of course) she thought
she knew what she was doing.

she didn't.

i still don't know if that part matters though.

he's been gone a long time -
so many years to move on,
and i have more new memories
than old ones.

i dont miss him.
but i miss the version of me that he still remembers,
i miss the girl who thought she knew everything.
i miss her unwavering confidence in
choosing the wrong path for the umpteenth time,
and the strength and naivety she had
to get up and pick again
the next day.

because now
i've got no clue what love is,
and if i could just ask her,
maybe she could remind me.

gabrielle boltz Jun 2013

slow down, or you'll miss it

Always going going going
but you never know where you're headed.
Why is that?
Why can't you pick somewhere
instead of running running running
around in my head in circles circles circles
that never seem to end?
But I guess that's the point
of circles anyway,
isn't it?
That they go on and on and on?
I think the real problem is the
uncertainty.
Not the circles or the continuity,
but the uncertainty that you
exude like it's your aura.
If I were a psychic
I wouldn't see a color
surrounding you,
I would see a speed,
and that speed would be fast
because you don't stop but

do you remember where you started?

have you ever just been

still

in the quiet of a star-lit night,

adapting that silent, empty speed to be full of

starlight and

beauty and

uncomplicated questions about

why you don't know where you're going -

is it because you don't know who you are?

because you don't want to know where you've been?

does it matter?

you need to learn to understand that

stillness isn't stagnation,

silence isn't empty,

and having a purpose doesn't diminish the importance of the journey,

it magnifies it.

let the quiet remind you of who you are,

and absorb that stillness

as if you are a sponge

that appreciates time spent

in careful thought

more than the water that fills you

slowly

and drips from your edges.

because you can't go that fast forever,
and
*I'm tired of trying to keep up.

gabrielle boltz Jun 2013

inhale your selfish advice with your $5 cigarettes

I've never met a smoker
who didn't tell me not to smoke,

they look at you, and take a drag,
saying, "back then I didn't know."

There's a part of me that wonders
what they really mean by that.

After all, a world with one less smoker
is a world with one more pack.

Like how a world with one less ******
is a world with one more hit,

And a world with one less pill head,
one more vicodin to give.

So I say "I bet."
with that sweet sour smoke
just spinning around my head,

thinking to myself,
inhale your selfish advice
with your pack of marlboro reds.

But who knows -
maybe they are just
trying to help you make
the best decisions that you can -

because they did such a
good job with that
themselves.

gabrielle boltz Jun 2013

a promise? (10w)

if you protected me from
everything,

*I
would
never
live.

a promise, or a curse...

gabrielle boltz Jun 2013

Once upon a time

the hint of summer on your breath
is calming still -
it lingers in the air in front of me
follows down the empty halls
fills my room

that sweetness in your voice
is calming still -
the sound rings in my ears
smoothes the ripples of my thoughts
to the rhythm of your heartbeat

and as I breathe in the
cliché of your intoxicating scent
I forget to exhale
because air seems endlessly satisfying
with that shadow of you.

I wake up, surprised
that there's light
outside my window.
The light breeze floats
something of you towards me,
and before my mind breaks
through the haze of the morning,

it's as if you never left.

gabrielle boltz Jun 2013

Eachother

And in the middle of a moment,
I open my eyes to see him
**** his head to one side,
making that face that
after so long is still indescribable,
and hear him say carefully -

And I'm just thinking about how much you are made for me.

I smile a wiggly little smile -
the kind without any teeth,
the kind with eyebrows
pushed together because of
the sweetness of a thought,
while a blush spreads across my cheeks.

Because in the split second
before my eyes dove into his,
I was thinking the same thing.

And I can't get it out of my head! Not that I'm complaining or anything...

gabrielle boltz Jun 2013

to find someone (un)like you.

"It's like catching lightening, to find someone like you."*

i read that somewhere.

i don't know who they were talking about,

but i wouldn't want to catch lightening.

kind of sounds like it would hurt...