"I don't know. I could be anyone with the flick of a switch,"
I replied.

I thought by loving him,

I was loving him;

when in reality,

by loving me,

I am loving him.

The thing I've learned about demons inside
that you can't seem to ward off,

is that you shouldn't waste any more time
trying to fight them
or banish them.

They are quite stubborn and ruthless.
Instead, you should be aware that they exist,
and learn to accept them as a part of you.

Give them a small corner in your mind to live in,
know where they sit, but ignore them.
Let them sit alone in their dark room.

Eventually, they go pretty silent out of bordem.
Other times, they break through...
& when they start to come out, just yell:

"Go back to your room!"

This usually works for me. :)
Other times, I just exercise or write.


----------------------------------------------
DISCLAIMER: this does not mean ignore all your negative thoughts and bottle them up. Self-growth is one of the most powerful and enjoyable things in life; it's also very stressful. But sometimes there are things about ourselves we just have to accept. I have to accept that I have an addictive personality and that I sometimes make too many assumptions with my wild imagination. Whenever I get the urge to overuse, I say no, or I go hoop. Whenever I create scenarios in my head, I say nope, it's not true until I see it.

She couldn't decide who she wanted to be,
so she was everyone.

She couldn't decide what she wanted to do,
so she did everything.

This
was better than being no one;

This
was better than doing nothing,

as many are, and many do...

She
was not them.

She
was different.

We're not supposed to be the same.
We're supposed to be the world.

I tried to get all my love from one person.
I tried to make him give me everything.
I wanted something that didn't exist.
A clone of me: to go where I go,
And do what I do, and agree with what I say.
That doesn't exist.
I wanted him to be my answer to eveything.
No, it couldn't be.
I realized this was foolish.
One person can't do that.
There's a reason there is so many of us:
To play different parts.
Not be the same.
So I realized, I had to get certain things from others
And not him
And this was not a betrayal
Or a battle
This was letting go of what wasn't real.
What isn't real.
Finding others to love me the way he can't,
Just as he finds others to love him
The way I cant.
I am not invincible or all-knowing,
Though I like to think I'm close.
This lesson is just one more reason
To call me little
Oh how much more is hiding in the slits of my brain
I'd love to see, though it's painful
Knowing the truth
Knowing things you thought you loved
Don't even exist
The things you wanted
That you'll never have
But in hopes of gaining something in return I guess
Maybe not as full or tasteful
But it's something
And it's healthy, because it is a balance
So you learn to live with it
And let go
And enjoy the freedom of it
Because you were trapped before
And confused, certainly
Not anymore
You know the right from the wrong
And it's only a matter of execution at this point
A great start
A great beginning
Hello love
Hello world

As soon as you make something seem terrible,
it becomes
slightly terrible.

Someone could be using that very something in a good way,
but as soon as someone comes up with a bad way it could be used,
that thing becomes tainted by thought.

Those people ignore the good in that thing,
and imagine a bad future with it,
creating a taboo that is almost inescapable.

Our thoughts create our future.
Give things a chance.
Think positive.

The future is in our hands.
It is also in the hands of bad people.
We must coexist and cease blame on things.

s t o p
saying: "**** THE MAN",
& be The Man.

What if
our personalities
are just
our mother
and our father
fighting
inside of us?

I have been all of them...

So,
how could they shock me?
and
how could I not understand them?

They are me
from the past -
this is for certain,

but am I them
from the future?
This is unknown,

and most likely, unlikely.

If you are a rainbow,
show the world all of your colors,
not just one of them
for your entire lifetime,
when you have so much more to offer.

It is crazy to think about...
things
that will never happen again.
When I sit down to contemplate,
there are so many surprises
inside of me;
it startles me,
but then later on,
on the outside,
I am never surprised,
while others sit in wonder,
because they never took the time
to think
about things.

We are just arguing over semantics,
when we both know that
what I said is true.

I could have said it another way,
but that will not change what is important -
the truth.

Accept this,
or choose to judge the way I speak...
but I am correct.

Do not let emotion
cloud your judgement,
or anger douse what is real.

I may be mean,
while ignorance is bliss...
but I choose to remain above all this.

When people say capitalism is bad...

Well, no, capitalism is not bad. People are bad.
At least, they can be.
Capitalism is just one way of experiencing who we are as humans.

We have molded our system according to how we work together
as a species. This is who we are as a collective whole.
We could express it a different way,
but we would still get the same results:

Some people are good and some people are evil.
There will always be the lucky,
and there will always be those who run into misfortune.
But it still isn't so black & white, even then.

We cannot blame a system, or even an individual for actions.
We cannot blame a thing.
We cannot blame anything.

What happens, happens because of how
everything is webbed together as one -
both colliding and agreeing.

We will never all be the same,
until maybe we are robots, which makes us no longer human.

So, no, I refuse to agree that capitalism is bad.
It is a tool which can be misused,
like anything else in this world.

Just remember that we are all one whole collective consciousness,
so when you blame one person, you are blaming part of who you are,
though you may not see it that way.

All we can do is love and try to be pure,
in hopes that others will follow,
but mathematically speaking,
all will never follow one whole-heartedly.

sometimes, it is not about loving yourself

sometimes, it is about loving the other:
the one right in front of you, waiting to be loved;
waiting desperately,
not knowing how to make it happen,
because they've never been truly loved before - 100%.

sometimes, it is your turn to be selfless,
not selfish - and maybe even suffer a little bit,
because maybe you have been loved before 100%
and you know how AMAZING that feels,
and you want it more than anything from this ONE person,

but they just don't know how to give it to you;
they can't,
because they've never seen it before,
never felt it before,
& don't even know how to begin.

sometimes,

all you can do is show them the way,
instead of getting frustrated,
or angry,
or dissatisfied;
you show them the way,
by loving them 100%, always, whenever you are able,
and sometimes when it is far too difficult.

maybe our story hasn't finished yet
maybe it hasn't even started
because i know when i look at the cracks in the sidewalk
i still think of you
and when i get home, i hope your scent is still there
even after hours or days

maybe this is our strange beginning
we are both very strange, after all

Is love logical?
Is it topical?
I beat the tree and nothing falls.

Is it random?
Is it fandom?
I'm your biggest fan, so please sign!

Is it something?
Is it nothing?
How do we understand it all all?

Is it wishing?
Is it kissing?
You've got yours, so where is mine?

Is it easy?
Is it greasy?
Like driving a car down the highway.

Is it crazy?
Is it hazey?
Where does this road take us?

Is it fate?
Is it dates?
Let's do your way, then my way.

Is it make believe?
Is it what we conceive?
I don't think anything could shake us.

Is it ***?
Is it a hex?
Hypnosis at its finest.

Is it a look?
Is it the books?
Are our ideas the same?

Is it math?
Is it a craft?
Times. Divide. Add. Minus.

Is it art?
Is it open farts?
Could you never be ashamed?

Is it true?
Is it you?
I'm not sure, but this time: us.

Is is tame?
Is it lame?
We'll  never know if we don't try.

Is it perfection?
Retrospection?
I remember a time when we were happy.

Is it doused?
Is it when you buy a house?
Things are getting dry.

Is it news?
Is it confused?
I just want something sappy.

Is it the cat?
Is it the rat?
Which one did it?

Is it pride?
Is it a ride?
Rollercoasters are for kids.

Is it soul mates?
Is it sulfate?
Which one is it?

Is it fun?
Is it like the sun?
I just want to close the lid.

I'm in love with your mystery .

Maybe I don't deserve to be loved back . . .

I'm not very mysterious .

I am an open book .

It makes no sense ;

I want you to be open ,

but I am in love with your mystery .

What do I do ?

This is a catch 22 . . .

A dark mist settled on her lips,
and as soon as she opened her mouth,
the mist morphed into a magical shade of pink;
warmed by her angel-breath,
like falling frost in the eye, it froze her,
and everything around her went still...
She spoke sweet words of sorries and plays,
hoping to born a new day -
with new tales
and new times;
It was only then she realized,
the darkness remained,
no one heard her,
& that all this time,
she only chose to view a different shade,
from behind the curtains of a moth's wing,
posing as a rustic butterfly.
She wouldn't let the words roam now;
she would reel them back in -
like a hurt fish, like a dead wish,
she would tie them up like a bow,
and throw them in the trash,
along with Christmas Eve and the New Year
that she had imagined.
She would leave that photo behind,
and those carved things
that always looked nice on her shelf.
She finally knew
that it was time to go.

Unfortunately, opposites do attract,
& I had to learn this the hard way, five different times,
before I realized,
I need what I do not want,
& I must learn to want just that -- what I need,
or happiness will never follow fluidly;
only lust and tears
& many late nights and stomach aches.

As women,
we can learn to love anyone --
taking them in as our children,
but to fall into love is another matter
that involves not a mother's choice,
but a man's wisdom:
to love himself,
to care for his woman,
and to plan for his future,
rather than to be the child of his woman
who must sweat each day away
with the worries of his worship.
All a woman yearns for is his affection,
which a man is most hesitant to give
at times when he must show strength
in place of grace,
and anger in place of empathy.
Even as these things roll off his shoulder,
a woman may continue to love tenderly,
for that is what a woman is;
born into life to comfort those in need --
whether child or man, monster or husband,
she cannot resist
to allow one evil spirit to leave this world swiftly,
untouched by the hands of an angel.

We ******, but we never kissed. You took me to dinner, but we never kissed. We went to the bars, but we never kissed.  You made me egg and bacon sandwiches, but we never kissed. I bought you a Christmas present, but we never kissed. I said I love you, but we never kissed. I do not love you anymore.

I remember when you called me Cupcake
And said that everything would be okay
Then the very next day
You broke my heart
With scars on your wrists
And ice in your eyes
A little piece of my heart turned to dust
And there's still a gap there
Tugging at every relationship
I attempt to unfold

I'm a sucker for top hats and trench coats

Won't somebody smart take me home tonight?

Let's get coffee down the road

Or swing in the playground

Like the good old days

She doesn't need another mother
She needs a father
I wonder if she'd let me be just that
Even if I don't have a *****

I don't like misusing the word *****
Since clearly no money is involved
But if there was one without a cost
It would be her

She ****** her boyfriend
She ****** her ex-boyfriend
And her other ex-boyfriend
All in the same week

She ****** her best friend
She tried to hold my boyfriend's hand
And she rubbed on my leg
When she bought me a drink

I used to think we were alike
But now I see that I'm much older
She is grounded now
She has gone to her room

"Loving and *******
Are not the same thing
I hope that you know that"
I said to her and slammed the door

adult bonobos have *** with infant bonobos
it is part of their culture
think of that,
the next time a human is arrested
for shameful behavior

You make me betray my instincts.
...a constructed fool,
built from lies.

You drag me down and pull me up.
...a puppet show,
waiting for applause.

You fill me with false hope.
...an endless gesture,
futile as dry dirt.

How sad it is,
to watch a middle-aged man
grow older
with each year
and faster
with each invention
that rises
into our youth
I will
some day
be a dying mother
or aunt
unaware
of the intricate
changes surrounding me
building
a new world
as mine fades
away

"If you tell more than 30 lies, you go to Hell."
I did nothing wrong. She pinched me.
I did nothing wrong.

I tend to fall in love with T.V. characters
who could never be real,
but I trick myself into thinking:
maybe they could be.

I tend to think everyone is homosexual
now that same-*** marriage is legal,
and I wonder if my boyfriend enjoys:
*** with a man behind my back.

I tend to reject any category or groupings,
meaning I prefer to stand alone,
thinking that it somehow:
makes me better than the rest.

I tend to pay no attention to the speaker
as they speak, but rather,
I listen to the words and imagine:
these words were meant for me.

I tend to wonder if I set my expectations too high,
or if my childhood was too perfect,
which causes me to picture:
a perfect fairy-tale as my future.

I tend to push my partners too hard,
often creating cynical tension
for lack of appeasement that goes something like:
thank you for the broken heart.

Dead Puppy, Broken Men
add opening narration/exposition/explanation; scenario with Jared

Yesterday:

"I've felt alone my entire life. Please don't make me be alone when I'm with you," Shellie begged Jared.
"You're not alone. I love you," was Jared's reply.
"But you won't open up to me."
"It's just really hard. I've always been this way."
"But why?" Shellie desperately yearned for the answers she would never find. "You need to love yourself, or you will never truly love me. You won't be able to."
"I do love you."
"Maybe you just think you do. Saying 'I love you' doesn't make it true. You have to show me that you love me. I can't handle this much longer. Nothing has changed in two years. Nothing."
"I know," Jared begins to cry, "I'm sorry. I really am."
"Don't cry please."
Jared looks away at the black T.V. screen in Shellie's apartment. He is silent for a long time, but eventually Shellie is able to pry his entire childhood out of his sewn-shut lips. She wouldn't take silence for an answer. Not anymore. If Jared hadn't come home, Shellie would have spoken to no one all day. She liked her alone time, but depended on Jared to be her right-hand-man, her main squeeze, her soul mate, and right now -- he simply wasn't being that. He was being something else; a subject of inspection, a psych-ward patient; a lost friend, who she longed to have back.
"Thank you for telling me," Shellie said as she squeezed his shoulders from behind, comforting him with tiny pecks on his cheeks. "Things make more sense now."
Jared said nothing the rest of the night. He instead sketched photos of slimy creatures with clenched teeth into his notebook, creating meticulous lines, surrounding the figure, as if it were travelling through time and space, into a new dimension, far away from this one.

---
Today:
"Did you know that there is a lizard that can only be female, and they don't have ***, they just clone themselves?" Brannan asked Shellie, his best friend.
"I wish I was that lizard..." Shellie sighed.
"What! Why!" Brannan exclaimed with confusion and worry.
"Because. *** messes everything up. I don't know...Maybe I'm just crazy," she stammered, looking for the right words.
"It's Jared, isn't it?" Brannan asked, already knowing the answer, because he knew Shellie.
"Yeah...I'm giving him one more chance. One more and that's strike three, you're out!" She laughed nervously.
"Ooookay," Brannan agreed, "one more chance."
Eli glanced up from the TV and looked at Shellie, wondering how anyone could hurt someone so sweet. But what did he know? He killed people for a living.
"What did he do?" Eli pried.
"I don't want to talk about it anymore. I've talked about it enough. All guys are the same."
"That's not true," Brannan tilted his head to the side in pity.

"The king is here!" Andy announced, as he walked through Brannan's door with a pound of **** in his canister, which was covered in skateboarding stickers and graffiti. Everyone cheered, and Brannan stopped playing Call of Duty, put down his Xbox controller, and picked up the pack of rillos that Eli had bought prior to coming over.
"That game ain't nothing like real life anyway," Eli mentioned, as he put down the other controller and everyone hastily made their way over to the kitchen table. He walked over to the freezer to pull out some Jack Daniels and ice, then went to the cabinets for a glass, turning his army cap backwards, pouring his drink, and taking a swig.

"How much do I owe you?" Brannan asked.
"We'll talk later," Andy replied.
"I was going to tell you, I still don't have what I owe you from last time, but Alexa said there is an opening at Starbucks, so I'll be able to pay you back ASAP man. I really appreciate it."
"Yeah, no problem," Andy said disdainfully.
"I'll roll it!" Shellie yelled to break the tension, as she put down her phone, only to pick it up again to check the time. Her boyfriend would be off work soon. Would she have to text him first again? Was he even thinking of her?
"Go for it!" Brannan tossed the rillo pack to her.
As she was finishing the roll, her phone went off. Shellie believed that maybe there was hope after all.
"Nope, just my dad..." Shellie mumbled to herself and sighed.
"What's wrong?" Brannan asked, with concerned blue eyes, through his thick-rimmed, black glasses.
"It's just Jared," she said as she pushed her lips to one side and looked down at her phone.
"What did he say?” Brannan asked.
“That’s the problem. He hasn’t said anything all day,” she explained in distress. Brannan noticed she hadn’t worn makeup in days, and by the looks of her outfit, she hadn’t been doing daily yoga like usual.
“Maybe he’s just super busy?” Brannan asked reluctantly.
“HE’S busy?? No. I’M busy.” She paused as Andy and Eli raised their eyebrows and widened their eyes. Eli was confused, because she had always seemed happy whenever he saw her. "I'm in school AND I have three jobs. What does he have? ONE job. One. I think he has time to text me, thanks for your input though."
Brannan said nothing, but pressed his teeth together and opened his lips, revealing a worried look with sad eyes, toward his dear friend.
"Yeah. He just doesn't get it. I'm a fire sign and I'm full of passion! Well, partially an air sign, which is probably why I’m so forgiving and understanding. But if he doesn't reciprocate soon, I feel like I'm going to go insane! Like, really? You don't want to go see Star Wars with me? What kind of person are you? Who doesn't like Star Wars? Really though," Shellie added.
"Maybe he's already seen it and doesn't want to tell you," Brannan suggested.
"You think so? Who would he go see it with though? All of his friends have already seen it. Do you think he saw it with his ex?! Oh my God..."
"Here, take this," Eli said as he handed the blunt to Shellie.
She took a big puff and exhaled as she closed her eyes in relief.
"You know what. I'm overthinking this. He just gets anxious in public, that's all," Shellie explained and looked around for reassurance.
"Are you sure that's all?" Brannan asked as he swung his black bangs away from his face.
"I don’t know... He's really mysterious and quiet. It's really hard for him to open up, I think. He didn’t really have a dad growing up. He's gotten better at talking to me, but he's still weird around big crowds of people. He never wants to go anywhere with me. It *****. I think he's learning to get better though. Maybe he's just young, I don’t know, but I'm sick of acting like his mother, you know? Why can't he learn things on his own? We're all scared, but if you don't face your fears at some point, then what's the point?"
Andy couldn’t help but think she sounded like a nagging *****.
"You know you just partially described the personality of a serial killer, right?" Brannan asked with comedic horror on his face.
"Did I?" Shellie asked.
"You deserve better!" Brannan's mom yelled from the living room. She was watching some reality TV show that she shouldn't have been watching. She continued to Shellie, "You deserve someone who takes you out and treats you right! You're a sweet girl!"
Shellie looked down at her phone. Still no text.
"Do you want to hit this?" Shellie yelled to Brannan's mom.
"I'm good, thank you though! I've got to finish these lesson plans for the day care," she explained with a sigh.
"Aww, sounds kinda fun," Shellie said. Shellie had thought about being a teacher, or maybe a counselor, but after helping so many people with different problems, she was starting to second-guess her passion for it.
"Nice blunt," Andy complimented Shellie. He thought Shellie was kind of cute, now that he had caught Eli in Alexa's bed and was no longer drawn to her. Despite her messy hair and mix matched attire, she had things together. She had things going for her. What did Andy have going for him?
"Thanks," Shellie smiled. Jared hated blunts, but he loved cigarettes. It made no sense to her.
"So what have you been up to?" Eli asked Shellie. "It's been a while."
"Just busy, busy. School and work, you know,” she said as she took one final puff before passing the blunt on its way, into the final circulation, never to return to her. She wanted to ask Eli about his life, but knew he couldn't say much, so she just went back to her phone.
Eli looked at Alexa, "Cigarette?" he asked.
"Yes," everyone except Shellie replied.
They all went outside in the freezing cold to get a brief buzz, while Shellie stayed inside, in the warmth, jotting down new business plans for her yoga studio into her phone. She then opened one of her books, but couldn’t focus on the text, so she quickly closed it. She then sat there in jaded silence, waiting for her friends to return from their strange endeavor.

"All the girls at my work are such *******! Like, one day I think they're my friend, then the next day I'm like, who are you?" Alexas was saying to her mom in between inhales and exhales.
Brannan looked at Alexas then at Eli with a look of concern and distaste. His mom noticed his expression and gave a brief response of agreement with her eyes, quickly returning to her daughter's concerns with compassion and empathy.
"Like, Kate said she wanted to hang out and everything, then she just doesn't respond. What the Hell?"
"Yeah, you probably just shouldn't be friends with them," Brannan replied.
"I have to be! I work with them," Alexas explained.
Knowing it was a lost cause, Brannan turned toward the glass door, where one of his cats pawed at the frame. “Aw, look at Izzy,” he said, pointing.
“Awwww,” his mom replied as she sipped on white Beringer.
“Let her out,” Brannan said to Alexa, since she was next to the door ****.
“No! She’ll run away,” Alexa said.
“No she won’t,” Brannan argued, as he made his way behind his sister, slightly pushing her, and letting Izzy outside.
She looked at everyone, let out a small meow, then hopped down into the grass, under a bush, and out of sight.
“Look what you did!”Alexas said, raising her voice.
“She’ll be back…” Brannan assured her, with ****** eyes.
Alexas rolled her eyes and Brannan continued, “She just wants to be free, Al.”
Their mom watched Izzy as she scurried into the neighbor’s yard. “Yeah, she’ll be back,” she said.
Then Eli turned to Andy and said, "You trying to play Call of Duty?"
"Sure," Andy agreed, though all he could think about was how Eli had been in Alexa's sheets the week before. “I’ll ******* **** you dude.”
“Yeah right,” Eli said as he let out a laugh, not knowing that he knew what he knew.

Alexa went to the living room with her mom, and Brannan returned to his spot at the kitchen table next to Shellie. Smoke stained the air, as Brannan picked up his phone and began playing a Pokémon game. Shellie tried to act interested, but all she could think about was Jared. Eli and Andy finished shooting each other and came back to form a circle.
“Bowl?” Brannan asked.
“That’s okay,” Shellie said, “I’m trying to cut back.”
“What…” Brannan said in disbelief. He packed the bowl anyway and handed it to her.
“Naw,” Shellie said.
“Yaw! Brannan yelled.
“No.”
Brannan handed the bowl to Andy and as Andy hit the bowl, he turned to Eli and said, "Hey, so if someone sat 12 million dollars in front of you, and a puppy in front of you, and said: The money is yours, you just have to crush this puppy to bits. Would you do it?" He looked at everyone as if he already knew the answer; as if it was obvious. Andy waited for everyone else to reply first. Brannan had no intentions of replying, since he was trying to be Christ-like lately.
"No, I wouldn't do it," Shellie said.
"Are you serious?!" Eli asked with pure shock on his sun-kissed face.
"Yes, I'm serious. Would you do it?" She leaned forward, almost rocking out of the tall bar stool she was sitting on.
Brannan and Eli chimed in, "You would SO do it."
"I would SO not." She repeated angrily, hitting the blunt and blinking her brown eyes to moisten her contact lenses.
Brannan's younger sister walked into the room to sit down, and Shellie looked to her for an answer. "Would you??" She looked at her with eyes of a beggar's, pleading for understanding and empathy.
"Do what?" Alexa asked, and the boys repeated the scenario, talking with utter excitement.
"A puppy? A cute little puppy?" Alexa asked.
"Yeah, a puppy or 12 million dollars," Andy coaxed.
"I couldn't do it! I could never do that!" Alexa gasped. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t!”
"That's what I'm saying," Shellie agreed. "I'm not even a dog person, but I would grab the puppy and run! Maybe report that guy to the animal police or whatever."
"Yeah!" Alexa agreed, as she took off her Starbucks sun visor and laid it on the table, next to Brannan’s laptop, Eli’s sketches, Andy’s backpack, and Shellie’s books.
"You all are crazy!" Andy said. "If the money was right in front of you, you'd do it, no question."
"No," Alexa and Shellie both said firmly.
"You'd just have to see the money, right there in front of you, in person," he kept on going.
Eli took a sip of his whiskey, then made stomping motions with his feet and said, "Haha! Gone! 12 million dollars richer. You know what you can buy with that much money? Tons of new puppies, if you really wanted to." He laughed.
"Yeah, you could **** me and make tons of new friends, too," Shellie said as she rolled her eyes in disgust.
"That's not the same though," Brannan finally spoke. "We don't know this puppy like we know you."
"Well someone does," Shellie insisted.
"Maybe," Brannan replied.
"Someone could," Alexa said. "Unless you **** him."
"Who said it's a boy?" Shellie asked sheepishly.
"You're right. It should be a girl," Alexa agreed, "like sweet little Lola over here." She scooted her chair from the table, and beneath her feet lay her sleeping Border Collie. She got up from her seat and lowered herself to the floor, head to head with the dog. She touched her nose to the dog's nose, kissed the dog’s cheek, and patted her head before returning to her peers on the bar stools above.
Everyone went silent, and Shellie wondered if the boys felt ashamed - so obsessed with power, that they forget to love.

---
Yesterday:

"You know how I told you that I didn't really know my dad growing up?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, it's because he was in jail for a while."
"How come?"
Looking around, as if for help or guidance, Jared hesitated to say what would come next.
"What is it??" Shellie pleaded, her imagination running wild with fear and worry.
"He ***** me."
"W-what..." Shellie was taken aback. She would have never guessed this is what all Jared's anger had stemmed from. Life flashed before her like a lightning bolt. It surged through her entire body, carrying memories of her perfect childhood juxtaposed next to Jared's. She thought of all the times she had met Jared's dad. She thought of how they worked in the same office, and Jared had to see his face every single day. She wondered how deeply this must affect his life, and how little she had noticed. Had she misjudged him completely? Why were all of her boyfriends so damaged? Was she drawn to damage? What if he ended up like his father? She wanted to help him. She had to.
"But how? Or... Like, where?! Did your mom know?"
"That's why she divorced him. He used to rent hotels on the weekends and tell my mom he was taking me along on his business trips. It wasn't until I was seven... I started having nightmares. I couldn't wake up. I'd scream and yell, telling him to get off me."
"Oh, Jared. I love you so much. You know that? I'm here for you. **** him. You don't need him. Your mom is great, and your little brother loves you. I love you. It's surprising how great you turned out, honestly."
"Yeah..." Jared said, slightly offended, but also in agreement.


* note for author from author: add scene with Alexa and Lola -- Lola biting her over and over. He's hurting me, ow!! "She just let her bite her. Over and over again." She did nothing about it. She endured the pain.
Shellie teaches Brannan how to "train" his dog.. play with her, be her friend. She just wants to play. She doesn't want to watch us smoke **** all day. You have to act like a dog sometimes if you want her to love you and be good.
reference to god's of love.. maybe venus and mars
- add more in between blunt roation.. it burns too fast
- create more setting!! (vital)
- add physical fight between Eli and Andy
- add scene with brandon's dad at very beg

Isn't it sad to watch a flower die?
Isn't it ironic that we're so happy when we pluck one from the Earth;
a happy and senseless ******.

Plucking is a lot like loving.
We want it to be ours. We can't just let it grow and let it be;
a selfish interruption of the naked soul.

We dress it in suits and ties, don't we?
It's important for things to appear as though they aren't tainted;
like true love awoken from myth.

But underneath her red velvet dress,
lie insecurities, a lock, and a key, to make sure he never leaves;
a trap for the foolish and the sweet.

The flower wilts inside the vase,
unable to breathe and spread its roots around the world;
love enclosed with foreshadowed defeat.

curtains closed, I sit in darkness
as I wait for you
if you don't return,
I will have spoken to no one all day

full of graceful accomplishments,
my river still runs dry
with the thought of sleeping alone
and waking with surprise
at the empty sheets next to me

every time, I sigh
and I hold back the urge to cry impulsively
distraught over a broken nail
as husbands die of cancer
in the hospital down the street

oh, how I'd cry then,
if it were you dying,
but you're just simply gone -
off to work, doing your duties

as I wait in the darkness,
and I think of you
please don't stay at your mother's tonight
I promise,
your little brother will be just fine

Espero que podría decirte todo;

la manera que yo nunca detener
pensando de usted
la manera que nunca voy a detener
amando usted

Deseo que yo podría beber usted
Deseo que yo podría comer usted

De esa manera,
realmente sería usted una parte de yo

Quiero respirar usted
No tiene miedo

Nadie va amar usted como yo hago
Por favor, dejame

The trees' fruited seeds are feeding us
Like a mother's nutrience feeds the fetus in the womb

The world is round around us and we are within it -

Like blemishes on the skin,
Mushrooms bloom from the carpet of our home

The birds - a bacteria,
feeding on what is already dead

and the oceans -  our water
The current, everchanging

The wind -  a musical digestion
Flowing through the veins of every atom

The sky - our air, the sun -  our strength,
And the evil our eaten

Because of what is passed along to us

You're like ******
Make me hurt so bad
But whenever you're away
I want you
Just one more time
Just one more time
Just one more time
Bring out the best in me
Don't let it fade away
Withdrawals without you
I'm not myself
I know I shouldn't
But just one more time

and some of my favorites moments are
when someone opens up to you completely

you walk into a new world,
take a new role

those times when words become visions
and nothing else matters in that moment

roaming around the mind
of another, stress-free and curious

when you realize you and someone else
want the same things for the world

that we all do,
but some of us are just scared

like sitting with your best friend,
only you're older now

are we the same?
we must be the same now

a creek of consciousness flows in,
as if you just took out a dam

and the news is everything pure,
like an open window

but the hinge is always shut at night,
and there is always a toll

savored like the morning's breakfast,
I'll swallow what you've said to me

until morning I'll wonder
what you're thinking now

I'll dream of your urges
and dance in your dreams

as if you were my child
as if we were in love

Self-conscious soliloquies ****** into tragedies
Will we ever love the right way?

So many slumbers as I sleep...
Do I dare ask again

What good is raging wars over past dues
When the new age hides in the corner of your kitchen

I know you have the fire to cook up some hope
But do you have the courage to live up to your dreams
So very squeezed and rinsed

Don't burn me

Trust only means wait in a world like this one
With so many pixies in the ear

I beg the day our towers reach the sky
Together, and alone

Will you ever love yourself like I do?

What is a shiny white stone
But a physical reminder of how bad we are

Underneath and on top
Folded in the sheets of the other's dreams
Never fully tucked in

Curséd outsider
Forever I may be
I've done this to myself
I do not blame thee

I hate everyone.
Girls for being stupid.
Guys for being *****.
What the **** am I?
Can’t I be enough?
Do I have to file into one of these meaningless categories?
I thought life was about love.
I didn’t know it was about being stupid and *****.
I knew I was an alien.
Maybe a robot?
I just want to love and be loved back.
No secrets.
What am I?
Who is this man in my bed?
He’s been here for two years.
He must be here for the ***;
Everything else is an illusion.
I never get to ***.
I don’t care though,
I’d rather watch T.V. and do it myself later,
or not. I could go months…
What am I?
He’s an animal. They all are.
The dogs and the *******,
they both ****.
I hate everyone.
He still has photos of random girls
on his webpage history,
and we have *** every night!
What more do you want, **** it?
I hate you! I hate you!
I saw that message from an ex-girlfriend of yours…
Did you really go over there?
What did you all do?
Each other?
Why else would you go there…
Love is simple;
It’s guys and girls that are complicated.
What am I?
Help.
I’m clean. I’ve got nothing
but a beat up past that taught me a bunch.
Guess you aren’t done learning.
******* horndog
..s. All of you!
And stop telling me how to play Call of Duty.
This is my Xbox, not yours.
You’re the one with anger issues anyway.
You ****.
The thought of your **** in another *****
makes me queasy.
The cells of her **** possibly touching mine
through secondhand-bone?
Disgusting.
I must go get tested as soon as I find the truth.
I hope you know I ******* hate you.
Even your most genuinely sweet smile
will now be contorted in my mind
as a trick of the Devil.
Every kindness you make will be blocked against you
as a curse.
That’s what you are, love – a curse.
I hate you.
But what if you’re innocent?
Maybe you didn’t go?
Is there actually a Prince Charming out there?
If there is, it’d be you –
That’s what worries me.
If it isn’t you, I’m doomed.
There is no one.
I think it’s all fake.
I’m brainwashed.
I saw those movies too young.
Or maybe too old?
And now I’m making you look bad,
because we all know how good you really are to me.
I just wish you could keep it in your pants
for one week
while this yeast infection goes away.
Can any of you resist the urge to constantly ****?
Maybe I’m worrying for nothing…
I should probably sleep on the couch tonight,
enjoy the salty tears,
because we all know they taste pretty **** good.
But this bed is so warm and comfy next to you,
and when we wake up, you smile at me and make us coffee.
You’re never away from me for too long.
Remember that time I saw a saved snapchat of a girl in a hot dress
and I accused you of cheating?
Ended up, she was a famous person.
Silly me.
I hope that’s what this is this time too,
or something like that.
At least I own a gun now, so I can **** myself
if it really comes down to it.
Chill, I’m kidding.
I think.
But being alone? Man that would ****.
Almost as much as you all ****.
At least I’m not you all.
What am I?
I still hate you, but I’m tired,
and I need to go to sleep.
Maybe my dreams will show me an answer.
I just want this feeling in the pit of my stomach to go away.
I just want you to love me like I love you.
Every day you say it,
but I guess I'll never truly know.
I love you.
****.

I'm not sure that I know
what a best friend is anymore.

I used to know when I was little,
because we did everything together,
and we told each other e v e r y t h i n g .

But now we are all so busy,
and I'm not sure if I have no best friends or
if I have tons of them.

Or maybe I just have a lot of "friends"
who I am very close to,
but never hug.

I want you to me my best friend, my love.
It is you and only you who I want
to spend my days with.

Have you noticed that I hug you?
You're the only one that keeps me
from awkwardly pulling away.

Are we best friends?
We don't do everything together,
but we do lots of things together, and we always have fun.

Are we best friends?
Because I think you tell me everything,
but I could never be sure, since we are in love,

and love tends to distort reality a bit.
Are best friends exactly alike?
Because I believe our souls are alike, even if all of our interests aren't.

Maybe I will never know
what a best friend really feels like;
maybe it is just a word for me;

Maybe I am just d i f f e r e n t
or something like that,
because I am a little confused,

but I love you, and I want to spend my days
with you. It is all I have ever wanted...
someone to be intimate with, both physically & spiritually.

Are you my best friend?
If not, I can leave...

I used to wonder
if I'd grow old lonely
because you speak so little.

I would sometimes
desperately yearn for your voice,
simply for the need of its presence in my ears.

But the more people I meet,
the more I grow to love your silence;
the more I grow to love who you were and are now.

We sometimes only lay and smile,
like little happy wizards reading minds,
as we gaze into each other's abstruse souls.

Silence is the reason
I loved you in the beginning,
then worried words got in the way.

I went a little crazy,
and blamed you for my tangled thoughts,
wishing I knew all the answers to everything; as if I could.

Soon I realized,
I was the cause of my own distress,
and you were still sitting there silent, waiting for me.

After some time,
our souls became one;
at least I would like to think so.

So don't speak.
Don't ruin it, and neither will I.
Let's live in this silence, together forever;
just knowing that we're in love.

I couldn't tell you
how many poems I've read
about girls in disguises,
girls hiding in their closets,
girls acting like girls,
wishing they were something more...

This is not a poem about wishing,
but a poem of being.
This is not a cry for help,
but a song of assurance.
I am a girl, but I am no feminist.

You won't find me painting
on makeup each morning
for confident clarity.
{red blemishes flourish}

You won't find me tearing
my feet up each night
to look tall and fancy.
{bruises on the heel}

You won't find me wearing
a red push-up bra
for emotional support.
{endless back pain}

You won't find me shaking
while holding a gun
for protection.
{fear is stupidity}

I couldn't tell you
how many girls I've seen
doing these things,
over and over;
girls wishing they were something more...

This is not a poem about hope,
but a form of being.
This is not a scream of pity,
but an equalist view.
I am a girl, but I am no feminist.

I choose to be myself,
despite the boys who call me odd;
despite the girls with envious eyes.
I choose to play video games at 2am
and eat until I feel sick.
I choose to wear band tees to the bar
and go home alone.
I choose to say what I mean
and suffer the consequences.
I choose to wear less clothes,
and sometimes more,
when I want.

I've found someone
who loves me for who I am.
I've found two people, in fact.

There is a boy
who comes over
and I can call him my love;
I can call him my best friend.
There is a boy
who never judges
the boy in me;
the things I do.
There is a boy
who reminds me
a lot of a girl,
who picked flowers with her mom
when she was little.

And sometimes,
I put on makeup for you,
because I love you,
and I want you to know I'm proud.
Sometimes,
I'm proud of myself,
because I got the eye liner just right.
And sometimes,
I like acting fragile
so I can do less work
and watch as you tire in sweat.
Sometimes,
I even shout my worries to the sky.
But moderation is so important
in a time so rigid
with lust.

There is a girl
who is me,
and that boy
and that girl
both know who I am.

I am sick of complaints;
I am sick of the 1950's attitude;
I am sick of excuses;
I want to see action;
and I don't mean a protest.

And maybe you like
being a girl.
Maybe you dress up
purely for yourself,
and no one else.
But that doesn't explain
the things that you say
in public and in retrospect,
as tears fall down your cheek,
and knives glide off your tongue.

I see more of it every day --
girls just like me.
You are only weak if
you believe that you are.
You are only a girl
if you think that you are.
I am a human being,
and so are you.

I am no feminist.

Cherry blood is always good, because it's dark and it means no artery was hit. You're still alive. You're living. That's why I sometimes don't understand the big fuss my principal made when I took off the sweatband on my wrist. Or maybe it was the vice principal. Either way, the school counselor was called in, and so were my parents. Looks of shock. Confusion. Why? They all asked. But I had no reasonable answer. I was young and innocent -- a feeling I'd love to regain, but at the time, I wanted the opposite. Maybe I did it for the excitement; the thrill. Some said I was just "a troubled child"; it will pass. Others said I was "disturbed" or "depressed". But these are just words. I know what I was. I wanted the attention; I wanted to get caught, until it actually happened. After my mom paid a psychiatrist $350 three different times, I told her I was okay; I stopped doing it; Please don't make me go back. And she never made me go back. And I never did it again.

Should one cast out all darkness
in another containing light?
Or is darkness oh so necessary,
and this is simply not my fight?
I found you unexpectedly,
in a field of bundled hay
which unraveled with your touch.

You chose me and I chose you,
so why is it that it seems like news
every time that you say, "I love you,"?
You told me we are forever,
but that was months ago...
& with all the changing weather,
you never know who wants to go.

They always make me leave first.
Is it me? Am I blind?...
I'm dying like the fall leaves' thirst;
Do you love my body or my mind?
I guess it could be much worse,
so why am I so skeptical?

They say "when you know, you just know,"
and you are such a fine spectacle,
but something deep down cries;
Maybe I'm a perfectionist.
I want you so much more
than I could ever speak with words,
I try to draw it out,

but everything just comes in herds,
and I'd hate to overwhelm you,
because you are the reason I even speak.
But my heart is aching every day;
my love is strong, but I am weak.
I've got so much care to give;
My doctor told me I'm an addict.

He meant much more than drugs.
I say love is madness.
We always change the ones we love
and put them in a vase
above all of our accomplished goals,
water them down until they grow old.
What is love? Am I sold?

when we are always shifting.
How do I choose
the man of my gifting?
I ache at the thought of going
just one day without your lips,
when all is healed just with your kiss.
Are you enough? Am I?

Speak to me. Why silence?
Your darkness consumes my light,
but then your breath awakens
and my stomach becomes tight.
I briefly forget what's wrong from right,
and sink away in your bliss.
I see the cracks,

and there is a god shining through;
I worship you.

You split in two. One of you has a gun, and the other: Nothing. I look to the empty you for hope. Hope. Hope. Nothing. You look at yourself, and though sight shows two entities... No mirror. Are you there? Fire! Perfectly centered. Lead in your face. Struggle, then surrender. One body down. Who else? You turn on me and I fear you. I fear nothing else. Who am I looking at? The Devil, for God is dead. Hope. Prayers and unrequited wishes. The barrel on my eye. Remember, I bought a 9mm this summer. I shoot first, because I was always the brave one. It is me or you. Me. All hope lost after timeless waiting. Goodbye love. Freedom deserves a chance. Whether together or alone. No stop signs on busy streets. Goodbye love.

And when I saw the light, shining so bright…
More and more of it each day and at night,
I watched as it grew, and I knew only
Growth could go on forever and always…
Never looking back at the daunting mist,
At eye-level with stench, my nose could not
Smell like my eyes could see; I knew what
I needed to be, but what wonders could
Push and scream, when things are not what they seem,
To bring a reality from our dreams…

Some things are not
What they seem
Is it a river or
Is it a stream?
When only perfection
Is seen in the eyes of love,
All is tender light,
But when love is
Doused in reflection,
Who are we really
Thinking of?
What is in sight?
A selfless act
Refracted by a
Selfish acquisition,
Which withers away to
Nothing, from its
Original position.
What heights,
We walk
To appease our hearts,
When hearts
Are almost never appeased.

What is the past,
if now it is gone?
What is the future,
if now it is wrong?

Now is the only present,
and this is a gift.
Looking forward and back
are merely shifts.

Puzzle pieces moving,
but in the same frame.
Mind thoughts wandering,
but on the same plane.

Looking back and forward,
to appease inquisitive brains,
to understand that as a whole,
still everything remains.

No time at all exists,
but still there is a ticking clock
which tricks us into thinking
our avid spirits are on lock.

Bare not false numbers,
for only one number is true.
It is named infinity:
you are me, and I am you.

I straightened my hair
And got ready for the day;
Another day without you here…
Just another normal Saturday.

“Hey! Over here! Don’t you see me still?”
I don’t understand. Who gives me these chills?
“It’s me, Jayne Mansfield.
Won’t you come out to play?”

Don’t talk to me that way.
I don’t know you.
“You’re wasting away your day!
What else is there to say?”

Leave me alone.
You’re not my friend;
How do I put these strange thoughts
To an end?

“It’s me, Lady Diana, Queen of the Land;
I’ve come to free you from slavery
And give you a hand.”
Leave me now! and that’s a demand!

”Now, hold on one moment;
I may not be Queen,
But you are still speaking
to supreme royalty…”

What? Who are you?
Are you friends with them too?
“I am Grace Kelly,
The Princess of Doom.”

Shoo! Shoo! I don’t need you.
I need my best friend
Who was lost in her youth…
Just gone – like, ****.

“It’s alright,” said sweet Jayne,
Kneeled down on all fours…
“It’s okay,” said the Queen,
Who cried even more…

“Don’t be scared,” said the Princess,
Who just wasn’t sure
How to convince me that death
Unfolds into something much more…

"Live on," they all chanted,
and all I heard was love
coming from the voices
which now lived above.