I wish I could live in a bubble.
Not quite like those kids with diseases
but more of a bubble in the sense that a bubble is safe.

I wish I could live without judgement.
Both my own and that of others
so that my decisions could be pure.

I wish I could live in a dream.
Where everything is irrational
but oh so rational all at once.

I wish I could live in the future.
So I could know what will come
and not always be wondering what is after my next step.

I said I would be gone for a few minutes
thirty at the most
probably less.
Then an hour has passed
because there is no service
in this tiny metal box.
There is nothing
but the white paper
and black ink
that tells me how to make noise
that is so much more than noise.
The white and black keys
underneath my clicking fingernails
that pull me in
and I cannot leave
because this is my home
when I am six hundred miles away
and everything is too much
this is my home.

Today I chose
to leave my childhood.
One would think that that decision is made for you
but its not.
YOU have to be the one to let things go.
And some people don't
they just continue on the same way
in the same place
doing the same thing.
And I used to look at them with scorn.

Why would you want to stay
in the same place
and time
with the same people
for the rest of eternity?
It seems, to be frank,
too safe.

But really maybe moving on is what's overrated.
What is the point
of sharing
and loving
and living a life with people
if you are going to move
so far,
too far,
away.

Maybe you should stay
and grow big and tall like an oak.
They don't need to move.
So why should we?

But I'm too far away now,
and all I want to do is go back.

I have fallen in love with foreign places
places I have only spent a moment
or a day or a month
and places I have only read about
or seen
In stories and pictures and books
And places I have dreamed.

The places I love, are nothing like here
They are strange and different
and beautiful and challenging.
They are the places I want to call home.

But no one else shares my love,
my wish for a foreign life.
So this place that I call home,
may be the most foreign one of all.

How can you know
just in a few seconds
whether someone is going to be important
or just another someone?

You just know.

And when you know in only a second
then that person is going to be on your mind
and in your heart
and that can be amazing
and the best thing in the world
if you are in his heart too.

But when you know you aren't
and he doesn't even say hi,
even if you deserve it,
thinking about him
every day
(every single day)
suddenly is more of a burden
than a comfort

And when you carry around too many
of those people in your heart
it can get crowded
and you can feel weighed down
and its too hard
so very hard
to find room for another.

So you go
around and around
in circles.
Forever.

I've been floating
on a cloud
of denial
and happiness
and like
and maybe love.
But today I had to realize
the cold hard truth
that you shoved in my face
because I needed to see it.

To go from smiling at every sound
to cringing at every word
is a fall as far as the depths of the sea.
But I needed to see
just what I was
and what we were
so I could understand my life
and take off the rose colored lenses.

Friends are the people that see you for who you are.
I had to find out;
I needed to know that I was never going to be
the person I wanted to be.
At least as far as he is concerned.
At least this time.

So breakfast tomorrow will be painful,
because I know a secret
that you have no inkling of.
That this can only end badly.

I love to hold magnets in my hands
and feel them pull toward each other.
It is such a force of nature
that I don't really understand,
but without fail
those two magnets will always want to be together.

But what happens when there is a brick in the way
or a room
or even a tiny piece of paper.
When there is space between them
or something blocking their way,
do the magnets forget about each other?

But even if that paper is there
once it is taken away
the magnet doesn't change its desires
or listen to those who tell it not to want
what it wants.
Not like people,
not like me.

Wouldn't it be great if we all were just like magnets?
But maybe we are,
attracted to one magnet,
until another one comes along.

You are not allowed to need.
You must never reach out
to anyone
and ask for help.

You are not allowed to need.
You must always be the one
to hold it all together
and make everything ok.

You are not allowed to need.
You must only be there for others
and never have anyone
be there for you.

You are not allowed to need.
You must hold it together
even when you are falling apart
because no one wants to hear about you.

I am not allowed to need.
Who would care to fulfill the needs
of a useless being
like me?

I hate you.
You are awkward
and a nerd
and obnoxious
and theatrical
and you always are singing
and judging me.
You are short
and ugly
and weak
and lame
and look like the geek you are.
I am embarrassed to show you to my friends
and embarrassed that I care so much.
and I hate you.
For making me fall for you.
because this is when I should use my youth
to snag the hotties.
Not settle for the nerds.
But its not settling
because you know me
better than the **** ever could
without even trying.
I hate you.
No,
I hate me
for liking you.

Sometimes
when people show you their worst sides
and kick you when you're down
and act like you don't matter
and smash you to the ground
just because
they can't see you care
because you don't wear your emotions on your sleeves.
The people who are worth it
the freakin awesome ones
shine through and pull you out of the ****.

Then maybe you have less people
but you only got the ones that matter.
Who needs the others anyway?

In the back of Mama's closet
before it was remodeled
were those pictures
from a hundred years ago
with smiling faces that I didn't know
that had some how been so important
before i was even thought of.

That weird wood thing
with those shapes I didn't understand
and the funny hair and costumes
and the timeless faces that never change.

But none of it was frozen
because each has a memory
and a story
to be told
and heard
and thought about
by a little girl.

A fairy tale set on the plains
of sweet sisters
and laughter
and silly things that I hoped I would see one day.

Oh I found many friends
many "sisters" you could say
who made me into a lady
the woman I barely recognize.
But I sat with bated breath for years
waiting for my time to come
for that real life fairy tale to begin.
So I could live out those pictures too.

I always knew I would wear letters
and bows
and a big bright smile
because of those pictures in the closet.

But I didn't know
that I would be dreaming
about telling my little girl
the very same tale I heard
once upon a time.

When look to my right
and see that pile of books,
all the same odd yellow color
with that orderly green writing,
I remember something.
Remember isn't the word,
its more of a stirring in my soul
something regaining purpose
that had been lost
or forgotten
or put in a box
and shoved in a closet.

To spite you I stopped.
Froze it in time
because it wasn't "practical"
or useful
or going to help me with my future goals.
Really I wanted you to know
that you didn't control me
that I didn't value what you said
even when deep down I know you are right
I know I am wasting away
without this thing
that I thought was worthless.

I walk
almost run
down the stairs and out the doors
past the lake
and the chain link fence
impatiently open my door
because the key is too slow.
I throw the shackles of my creativity,
the books that keep me grounded,
to the ground and reach for those others
up on the highest shelf.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Not anymore.

I look into windows
down all the hallways
looking for and empty room
just one
thats all I need.
Finally,
the worst one
but it will do
yes
so long as I can play
play the piano
it will do.

I will always do.

I can't describe
how much I love
the stupid text
that is bound in those books.
But I do love it
so deeply that sometimes it hurts
hurts my soul
hurts because I can't go there
into the print.
But it is inside of me
and that is not fair.

I accept it though
because what am I
if I am not a part of this generation.

Después de mi ventana
lives a world I have not known.
Hay un hombre y lo conozco
but only for a while.

I left in such a hurry
quise a viajar en todo el mundo.
Pero, ahora pienso que me olvide
what used to make me smile.

Enseño muchas cosas nuevas
but I've lost the most important thing.