i tried to write a poem
i wrote "this beautiful life"
the first line on the paper
said "it is all a lie"
i tried to paint a picture
explaining all i couldn't say
halfway down the canvas
i ran out of black paint
so instead i baked brownies
for a party of one
laced with something special
my entire body numb
lying on the floor
the poem and the paint
and an old abandoned body
who's last words were
"i want to escape"

the year i fell for summer
i fell in love with the smell of pine
camped out under the stars
and fell asleep to a country lullaby

the year i fell for summer
it was the year i first tasted wine
snuck into a few bars
and that was the year i let my childhood die

the year i fell for summer
your lips tasted like chocolate on mine
i learned to play guitar
and that was the summer i told you goodbye

Some people sit and watch and say nothing at all, and others say too much and miss everything and everyone around them.

In a way, a persons silence seems to give a looming of power the them over others. On the other hand, they are outspoken and have no control of any given situation. Is there gray area between the two? Can you be silent without being mysterious? And can you be silent without being disregarded?

Some people may find need to fill silence with sound, with their own voice. In my own experience, the people who do this tend to be overtly confident, but lacking in charisma. These people build themselves up past the point of admirable. They drive themselves off the cliff of confidence and into the sea of cockiness. Can one be an everspinning record without putting themselves on a pedestal?

Where is the inbetween? Can there be a constand buzz behind silence or is there only disregardable ringing and deafening quiet?

ive written about meeting him for a second time and where i thought we would stand and how i thought we would change and where i thought we would be in our lives. ive written about knowing each other only in passing and imagined learning about each other again.
its not like that though is it? i need to stop living in the future. i should have thought we are not together now. point blank. i should not expect nor dream or imagine but live in the present. because now we are us. then you were you and i was i. and before we were we.
i am okay with you being away now. and i was okay with not talking to you at all. but i am happy to be the person making you happy whether its miles or minutes away.
the space between us has changed us both. we went from the same page to very different books. even reading at different speeds, we have found that the spaces between words and lines and before paragraphs are universally the same size and that is where we stand for now.
i will gladly listen to your voice through all the in betweens.

the past eight months have been bumpy and ive stopped labeling things by events because theres too many
time in my head has changed from months and days to labels even though i still know the exact dates and exact events
the earliest time was easy and seemingly happy without knowing what happy was
the earliest time was before you
then there was you all four months of you you you and this was what outshone and outshines everything
you were everything
there was the worst which i label as the first week because the first week was significantly bad without you
we didnt need a first week because we just fell into place
separately though i counted hours and minutes and seconds without you
after the first week was the off week when things were fixed but not
the week that we tried but failed
then there was time and emptiness and general sadness
there was the second try but this time i broke it off
i was scared to lose you so i took you from myself
then there was the third try where things were almost okay but they werent
you were leaving
when you left there was a new first week and if i though the first was bad this first was worst
this first week was nothing because im nothing with you gone
i find that our story is easier told with time

ive never understood why people would do on again off again relationships but now that im put in a place of knowing what i want but not always having it i would be willing to go through anything to have it for any period of time

WHO WAS THE WINNER WHEN YOU GOT PLENTY OF HATE IN RETURN FOR MY HEART BREAK? THERE WERE TWO SORT ENDS TO THIS STICK WERENT THERE? AND THATS JUST THE NAME OF THIS GAME ISNT IT? BUT COULDNT WE HAVE MADE OUR OWN FATE?

AS I RECALL YOUR EYES ARE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL IVE EVER SEEN BUT I COULDNT MAKE MYSELF LOOK AT YOU LONG ENOUGH NOR COULD I REMEMBER YOU WELL ENOUGH TO DESCRIBE THEM NOW

i want to fall in love again but i dont want new and exciting i want i exactly like the first time. i want to fall in love with the same hands and cheekbones and jawline and i want to fall in love while tracing the same veins on the same forearms and i wouldnt mind falling in love in my parents living room watching basketball even though i hate it. id like to fall in love baking in your parents kitchen too and stealing kisses when no ones looking. but i think i really fell in love laying in my own bed with you and if it hadnt been for that maybe i wouldnt want to fall in love again at all but it happened and it was all so real for me. but if we did it all again could we skip the end because i know what happened after we fell asleep in my room and i know how i laid in the same sheets and cried the next night and almost every night for the past two months. and if i fell in love again, could i not do it alone?

it started with goodnights seeming too much like goodbye and now i cant even remember the last goodnight but everything is screaming goodbye but even with every sign and signal i still probably wont get a real goodbye and just thinking about you leaving hurts but you leaving without a single word seems so so much worse

I PROBABLY SKIP FAR MORE MEALS THAN I SHOULD AND SPEND MORE TIME SLEEPING THAN MOST PEOPLE. I CRY TOO OFTEN AND TOO HARD AND FOR FAR TOO LONG. I FIND MYSELF WAKING UP COUNTLESS TIMES THROUGHOUT THE NIGHT OR NOT SLEEPING AT ALL. I BURY MYSELF IN BOOKS WITH STORIES OF TEENAGERS WHOSE LIVES I WOULD TRADE FOR MY OWN. I LET BOYS BREAK MY HEART AND I LET MYSELF BE BROKEN DOWN BY GIRLS WITH PRETTIER EYES AND HAIR AND FACES AND BODIES. I DONT WEIGH MYSELF IN FEAR THAT I MIGHT STOP EATING ALTOGETHER AGAIN AND I LAY ENOUGH MAKEUP ON MY FACE EACH MORNING TO BE COMPLIMENTED ON MY LOOKS. I AM A GIRL WHO WILL PROBABLY ALWAYS NEED REASSURANCE BUT WILL PROBABLY NEVER BE ABLE TO KEEP SOMEONE WHO IS WILLING TO GIVE IT. I AM FULL OF SELF LOATHING AND I ENCOURAGE EVERYONE TO BE NOTHING LIKE ME. (r.r)

you said you loved the sea
so i drained it from the deep end
you told me you loved summer
so i froze it with a cold heat
you said you loved flowers
so i drenched them with **** killer
you told me you loved me
so i left and drew defeat

the world didnt stop spinning
it seemed awfully close
men got away with ******
i left my heart with someones ghost
did you question your sanity as i did mine
or cut your veins, inhale fine lines
i ate less and  feared more
2013, another closed door

i want twigs and leaves for hair
and oak for skin
i want moss at my feet
and dirt beneath me
i want to surround myself
with nature

i want your blood in my veins
and your tongue in my mouth
i want your ribs in my chest
and your cologne on my skin
i want to surround myself
with you

No one is speaking, but the voices are loud.
The voices are screaming but still there's no sound.
I need to get out. Get out I tell them. GET OUT.
The voices are prominent and ringing.
And I can't get out, I can't get out.
I'm screaming for help. Screaming out loud.
But just like the voices there is no sound.
I can't get out and I can't make a sound.
And the ringing voices are getting far too loud.
But still, there is no sound.

the fourth thursday in november
should not be the only day we give thanks
it should not be the only day
a blessing is said at the dinner table

if youre going to give thanks
give them daily to people who surround you
with good vibes and better conversation
be thankful for things that others may not have

be thankful for the air you breathe
for the songs you sing in the shower
for the showers you are lucky enough to have
be thankful you were blessed with a purpose

be thankful for your purpose
be grateful of  everyone and everything
surround yourself with meaning
add fulfillment where you've never searched for it

why are virginities this huge thing?
like, have my ***** and along with it you can take all of my innocence and every ounce of purity???
and after that every other man holds no significance?
but why is my virginity such a big thing?

how often do you do things for yourself
do you clean your room for yourself or for your parents
do you do your homework for yourself or for your teachers
do you force a smile for yourself or for society
what have you done to make yourself happy
what have you done for yourself

i found meaning
standing on cliffs
looking down into darkness
with my life on the line

i found myself
searching for direction
looking for more
between church pews

i found god
on the tip tops of buildings
with the wind against my wings
and the city beneath my feet

i found you waiting
at the tips of cliffs
in the local church
on the edges of buildings
for me