you are
friday night dinners and
red lip stained coffee cups
and family photos and skilled
sarcasm and twelve trips to
disney and your love for
avocados and adventure. you
are sunday morning bike rides
and hand written letters and
power outages with candlit ghost
stories and week long sleepovers and
summer dresses and worn out boots
and accident prone vacations and
themed birthday parties and forgetfulness
and gerbera daisies and singing too loudly
and too off key and GOOD mistakes and
better memories
you are constellations and sea glass and colliding galaxies
and sometimes the calander turns
like a lottery and once in a blue moon
you can find a girl with fractured
sapphires in her irises and a heart too
big for her ribcage and a spine as strong
as a lightning bolt
so thank you january twenty sixth,
for michele.

I close my eyes and lay my ear against your chest to hear the rapid, but somehow still steady beat of your heart and the sound of the blood rushing through your veins has always made me think of sun rises, of blindingly white light and pink hues in the skies. Hearing the blood course through your body reminds me of sunrises, of another beautiful day, another day to be grateful, like somehow your existence has a correlation with the heavens and maybe you're not even aware of it. Like every battle drum song echoing in your chest signifies another beautiful day awakening in a life that could be ours. And when I finally lift my head from your chest and I see your eyes looking heavy because they carry the weight of every sunset that you've sworn wouldn't be washed out by the vibrant crimson of the insides of your wrists. Like every time you blink you hold the power of every moon phase in that one simple movement, and isnt it funny how that one simple movement is so powerful, do you even realize how powerful you are even in your simplicity? But then again Mother Nature never stops to admire herself, but then again do we ever give her the chance? We always twist the beauty she gives us into acts against our humanity, we always turn the failing of our ozone layer into a crime instead of an act of loneliness. Mother Nature wants to show us all the warmth she has to offer, Mother Nature wants to shower us in the warmth that our kind has always been lacking. We always turn the rare colors of the sea into an act of violence, when all the waves wanted to do was show us how beautiful they are when they try to cleanse something so impure. They never meant to harm us, but my dear take a leaf from their book and do not ever forget, do not ever apologize for being so beautiful while still remaining so powerful.

love is like the night sky
stars upon stars
all out of order and no
sense of direction

it takes a skilled eye
and a reckless heart
to try to tame these things
to take form of something

but sometimes stars fall
but if love is a night sky
you are my north star
and i am the astronomer

pink lip stick, purple eyeliner, orange bracelets,
green hair, writing with black ink on white paper
blowing blue smoke rings into the air, with time the
walls turn yellow
everyone always compliments the pigmentation on my
face, they call them freckles, they're "cute"
everyone always wonders about my color choices, they think it's
funny, that there's too many vibrant color and they don't "match"
they think there is something wrong with my eyes, "maybe she's color
blind"
but that's not it at all, because all i see is colors, i do not see anyone as a person,
but as a color.
they wonder, they do not ask. they sit and stare or smile and nod.
if they did ask, they would realize,
to pigment means to color, and i am forever color in my existence
inside and outside the lines

Feb 6, 2014, 11:37 PM
i miss you and i dont know where you are or if you'll even get these i just really hope youre safe and that you know i love you

Feb 6, 2014, 11:39 PM
and i dont know i dont have anyone to talk to so i'll just write to you i hope you dont mind

Feb 6, 2014, 11:42 PM
the formal got rescheduled to next friday (valentines day, blech) and he texted my aunt and she was like "thats okay, that just means you'll have to take her out tomorrow" and i literally laid down on the floor

Feb 6, 2014, 11:45 PM
i miss you

Feb 7, 2014, 1:33 AM
why do people not care about things or other people i dont understand
i dont know
why do people ask questions if theyre not interested in the answer

Feb 7, 2014, 1:34 AM
i hope your night was okay, i really hope you're alright
i love you man, goodnight

Feb 7, 2014, 2:53 PM
so chris told rhea that the only reason he started dating her was so that he could make gabby jealous or something wow

Feb 7, 2014, 10:40 PM
we got chris in trouble i feel so bad and apparently his mom is an alcoholic and like god, i dont even know i just wanna pat him on the head you know

Feb 8, 2014, 3:21 AM
**** i really miss you i hope you come back soon

Feb 8, 2014, 3:34 AM
i think i dont believe in love anymore
like in the way that i can see other people loving something or being in love with someone and that's perfectly okay and i can LOVE people and things but not well enough and i cant be IN love with anyone and i just i dont know anymore i cant tell if im the headfuck or if everyone else is

Feb 8, 2014 3:44 AM
but i love you

Feb 8, 2014 3:44 AM
whether it's me or you or both of us that's a headfuck and even if i dont really know how to be a good friend to you

Feb 8, 2014, 3:46 AM
i love you

Feb 8, 2014, 3:47 AM
always

Feb 8, 2014, 3:48 AM*
i hope one day you're happy

STOP TRYING TO FIT PEOPLE INTO BOXES OUR ATOMS LOOK LIKE TINY UNIVERSES FOR A REASON WE ARE CONSTANTLY GROWING WE WILL DEVOUR YOUR IDEALS OF WHAT WE SHOULD BE LIKE BLACKHOLES SWALLOW LIGHT AND AND SPIT YOU OUT INTO INFINITE NOTHINGNESS

i know it's been 8 years and i know
the skin replenishes every 27 days and
i know that every molecule and every atom
that was present when you took my freedom
from me and replaced it with guilt does not exist
anymore but somehow through all the showers so
hot that satan would hiss at the contact and scrubbing
so hard at my skin that it's raw and bleeding, i can still feel
your sinful hands ripping the only thing i ever believed in straight
from me without even breathing
a word.

and sometimes,
at 3 a.m. when the
memories come flooding
in, when i can't cry because
i am not sad, i am angry
i wonder why if my bones
and my liver and my
stomach and every atom
and every molecule and every
bit of my body can be renewed
at least every 5 years, why can't my
memories change too?

YOU ARE NOT WHO YOU WERE FIVE YEARS AGO YOU ARE NOT WHO YOU WERE SEVEN SECONDS AGO YOUR PAST SELVES ARE BURRIED DEEP IN THE CEMETERIES BETWEEN YOUR RIBS YOU ARE BORN AGAIN IN THE SPACES SEPERATING YOUR KNUCKLES

today my best friend,
who lives 2,000 miles
away (on the other side
of the country to be exact)
messaged me at 2 am
telling me that she was
really really sad and that
no one was up. later when i
woke up i wrote back asking
what was wrong

she told me she drank antifreeze
and that she messaged her old friend
who ****** her over last year
and that all he did was tell her to
call an ambulance and then blocked her
and wrote a post about how he couldn't
sleep, when the girl who used to love him
was intoxicated and vomiting and sad and
dying. and she just kept laughing, like it was
the funniest thing she'd ever heard

and i couldn't stop telling her "i'm sorry"
i'm sorry i didn't have my phone
i'm sorry i was asleep
i'm sorry you live so far
i'm sorry you're unhappy
i'm sorry i can't do anything
i'm sorry i'm being selfish
i'm sorry i'm making you live
when it's the last thing you want
to do.

and she just kept telling me
it's okay, it's okay, it's okay
i'm okay, it's fine, i'll be good
and i didn't have the heart to
tell her that i knew she was
lying.

i'm sorry i love you too much to let you go.

you always said everything was
black and white so why do your
words bleed orange sunsets in
to my black lungs
my dad used to crash his cars
for fun, he used to have competitions
to see how many times he could
roll his car, and it's been years
since he's been in an accident
but sometimes i can still see him
speed up and i wonder if he misses
the thrill or if he just can't break
the habit.
when we do things long enough
we can never really get rid of them
even when we're not thinking
about it, our subconcious does all
the work
that's what it's like to love you
i dont even have to remember to
i just do
you are the last three seconds of
a sunset frozen in forever,
you are in my veins.

i am the last seconds of the sunset you tried to take a picture of
but couldn't quite capture it quickly enough
i'm sorry that i can't be in love with you
or anything really
i'm sorry that i'm always moving so fast that i'm nothing but a blurry figure
in your peripheral vision
i'm sorry that i won't even bother to ask you to keep up
just because i know you can't. because no one ever has.
and i'm sorry that when i leave (and i will)
you will remember why storms are named after people

i am
drunk texts and
broken bones
and shattered glasses
and red and blue lights
with sirens blaring
and cracked ceilings
with raindrops falling into
buckets on the floor
and car crashes
and raging wildfires
burning down the only
thing that ever loved it
and black lungs
breathing in
air that reeks of whiskey
and lost causes and
lyrics written with
all the hatred of a
collapsing soul
i am
a gun pointed straight
at your heart
with a smile still etched
on your face
and you will never
know why i am these
things, but you should know
this: things that are bad
always taste nice.

you can give me all the
red roses you want but
there will always be
black weeds in my failing
lungs and thorns in my
sworn off heart and
constellations that i cant
quite make sense of in my
head.

and i'm sorry that i cant
apologize for not loving
you as much as you loved
me.

you can pin all the flowers
you want on me and tattoo
your memories on me and
burn your love into my skin

but i will always have black
weeds and dying stars inside
of me and  n  o  t  h  i  n  g
will ever be able to wash the
black ink from my hands

you do not
get to slice
at my neck
when there
are already
knives in
my words

i dont believe in
love
and god, i know
how awful that
sounds
i mean i know
that i'm only
a teenager and
that i have my
whole life left to
find someone to
settle down with
but love is an excuse
to hurt and to be hurt
right?
well i do not find pleasure
in hurting other people
and i hope to god no one
ever wants to hurt me
it is a disaster waiting to
happen
what i mean is
i believe in love
i just do not believe
that i can be in love
or that anyone can be
in love with me
and if they think they
are
i have no problem with
walking away from them
because i might hurt them
but not as much as i could
have
i'm trying to protect you
please understand
god i hope you understand
because i dont have time to
explain it to you
im sorry

i know i'm good at not
talking loud enough and
averting my eyes and
fidgeting with my fingers
and forgetting to tell people
that i love them and sleeping
too much and not eating and
crying over stupid things

i am so worried that you are
going to find a better girl with
prettier eyes and a better memory
and more confidence and people
skills but i know you will because
i am not worth keeping nevermind
fighting for so i'll draw our goodbye
out and stay as long as i can and i will
not kiss you goodbye but i'll put my lips
to better use and swallow down the pills
and the ***** so that maybe i can forget
whatever made me hurt so much in the
first place

SOMEONE TOLD ME ONCE THAT MY WORDS SET FIRES IN PEOPLES CHESTS THAT IT CONSUMES EVERYTHING IN ITS WAKE AND THE MORE THAT IS TURNED INTO ASH THE MORE BEAUTIFUL AND ******* TERRIFYING IT IS AND ITS FUNNY BECAUSE THATS EXACTLY HOW I FEEL WHEN I LOOK INTO YOUR EYES AND IT DOESNT MATTER HOW MANY TIMES I TELL PEOPLE I WILL LET THE PAGES AROUND MY NECK DROWN ME BEFORE I LET THE FIRE GET TO ME BUT THERE WILL NEVER BE ENOUGH WATER TO DOUSE THE FLAME THAT IS IN YOUR EYES OR MAYBE THATS JUST A REFLECTION OF THE ONE YOU SET IN MINE

it's a good thing i love
the stars as much as i do
because they live in your
eyes and no matter how
much i try to look away
i cant
because it is **** near
impossible to look away
from beautiful things
when they are dying

too many strangers have called this body of mine home
what they don't realize is that under the pretty painted
walls and the beautiful chandeliers, the entire foundation
is crumbling to pieces and this home was not built out of
love and to preserve life, it is full of lies and confusion and
hurt. they see the dried up paint that ran down the sides of
the shutters when it rained and they think that just a new
coat of white will cover it up, they don't know that the runs
are the cuts to form over old scars, they confuse paint with
blood. i beg of you, please get an  inspector to look at me
before you buy into this tragedy, not that you would last
long, the ghosts that wander these halls will scare you out
before you can unpack the first box.

"you can not make homes out of human beings.
someone should have already told you that by now."

i can't be your home when i don't even feel at home
in my own skin.

I HAVENT SLEPT IN WEEKS I HAVENT DREAMT IN YEARS EVEN THE NIGHTMARES HAVE GOTTEN TIRED OF SEEING MY FACE

who you loved does not matter when you're dead, what you did for them does. energy cannot be destroyed or created. so use your energy to do something for someone, no matter how big or small, because that's the **** that will last.

today it rained and
thundered so loudly that
the whole house shook
when it roared and
the lighting so bright
i had to blink
several times before i
could see straight again.
and i cried. and
i wondered if you
thought about me.