Not the kind that requires
Repentance.
Or 20 hail Mary's.

I feel like Oliver Tate
From Submarine.
You're Jordanna,
Reading through
The pages of my diary.

I want you to know
My innermost workings.

Would it hurt you somehow
If I were to say it?
Is it selfish of me to want to?

Tell me it's unconventional.

I know.

But so is breathing fire
And having a three legged dog.
And both make for a great story.

Our story would make for a great
Indie romance.
The kind where you don't cry
Until the very end.

Is the distance enough to soften the blow?

I would liken you
To a night without stars
Were it not for your eyes.
I would liken you
To a sleep without dreams
Were it not for your songs.

he is Peter Pan
never aging.
the boyish upwards curvature of his mouth
is electric
and causes my skin cells to prickle.
he thinks my underwear is fun.
funderwear.
he's perfected the art of making insults seem charming.
and when we lie on the floor in the hallway,
our hair sprawled out on the carpet
his strands getting all tangled up in mine
I feel perfectly beautiful.
our hearts sync
as our noses touch.
Eskimo kisses.
He's a bottomless bag of peanut m&ms;
all green.
Wine stained lips
and a bitter tasting tongue.

The fast lane is too **** slow
Stop signs never turn to go
The geniuses just do not know
The fast lane is too **** slow

I'm tired of nothingness
Monotonous, lonely, stupid ****
Careful kids and reckless authority
Empty, broken, stupid conformity

The fast lane of moving assembly lines
The same **** action every time
"Gimme, gimme, it's all mine!"
Conveyor belts and assembly lines

I'm gonna go against the majority
Redefining your priority
Careful kids and reckless authority
Empty, broken, stupid conformity.

I keep telling myself that I can do better,
While wondering why I don't.

It’s a common saying that time heals all wounds;
but some scabs we can’t help but to pick at.
I didn’t want this wound to heal.
At least not fully.

If it healed then the scab would thin and the scar would fade
and then I’d forget.
As painful as it was to remember at times,
I didn’t want to forget.

I wanted to remember every moment in vivid detail.
I didn’t want to forget or be forgotten.
Even if we never saw each other again,
I convinced myself that I could manage living the rest of my life
in restless contentment if I knew
he’d remember.

The roof quaked and the sky cracked.
Thunder rang through the misty atmosphere,
and rain plummeted from the overcast sky.
I could hear the drops thrumming rhythmically on the windows,
and the splashing of the cars that meandered down the soggy roads.

Lightening shot down and splintered the heavens,
followed as always by the roaring of the dark night.
I felt the house shuddering
as torrents of rain were cast forward,
and gales of wind crashed around it like waves on the rocky shore.

Through the dripping glass panes,
I saw fog gathering in the dense, stormy air,
shrouding the leafless trees and neat fences in mystic obscurity.

The persistent booming of the heavens did not cease,
and the pounding of the raindrops soldiered on,
but in all the noise, the clamor, the chaos,
the only thing I could hear
was calm.

I put you together with a song
the shape, the sound, the length
two months before you were gone.

You didn't really feel that far away
because I still thought of you
as that close,
hand beneath my head above the pillow,
pictures on the nightstand,
kissing you in my dreams.
You were still that close to me.

You didn't really feel that far away
until you got far away.
Until the distance wasn't a number
it was me not calling every hour
it was me not tracing all your steps
it was me starting to
not forget
but just
push past it.

You feel really far away from me now.
Like it wouldn't be just a plane ride.
It would take a lot more than an old photo in a frame
or a backwards hat memory
of something we loved when you were here
and you were mine.

You feel really far away from me now.

you're a really nice guy,
but our conversations lack depth.
when I talk to you,
I feel like I'm drowning



*in the kiddie pool.