the white noise is calming  due to the interruption of sober silence
depriving senses, seeming like aphasia, looking through peripheral to see
all but what was was straight in the clear, sight insufficiently corrupted
painful holdings and a hand punched into the car door beside me
screaming about the difficulties, a voice that cracked like stained glass
suddenly given a voice, to only express furthermore misapprehension
a voice that spoke words
that  could  be seen forming in the air above  
the words that wrapped around my body and clung like static
pulled me like a rope twisted leash, forming circulating rusted lesions
across a  protruding collarbone
stare down deep into the roots of a tender willow  tree
look down, and avoid the expression on that face
and the truck that was unnecessarily  punished
now pretend you have aphasia, pretend that lesions don't **** slowly
and pray your face doesn't end up like that car door

Sometimes I forget, but only sometimes, you become that book at the bottom of the stack. The part that just barely peaks out, so you can only see one word from the title or author. Thats the part that makes you randomly remember. Every time you glance over at the stack, and see the edge, with that one word. Thats those sometimes, that the remembering haunts you. In between the remembering and forgetting, you have that frustration which is like the time when  you get that glue stick. That  glue stick that is dried out. All you can do is roll the glue stick up and down, dreading the fact you now have to take a trip all the way to a store to buy a new one. On the car ride, you stop to get a coffee, but all you can think of is how that "supposed significant other" never told you they didn't like coffee for two years and you would buy them one every day. I wish the only thing you took from me was that  $2.63, in a styrofoam cup, but you unfortunately took a lot more than that. So now, out peaking is that word from that book at the bottom of the stack. Who knew that $2.63, gave you the feeling of being deprived from oxygen. Now driving, you think a little but a little too much. So you shove that memory into the jack in the box in your mind and hope it does not pop out again. Arriving, at Staples is sadder than intended. So while looking for a new glue stick, you start to find a way to get a bottle, you find it, and you drink it. The liquor spills over that book. The one hidden at the bottom of the stack. It drowns the pages. No good or bad memories, all thoughts drifting away like the words on that page. Just like the page everything becomes a blur. Waking up with asleep by the smiths still playing, you roll over and feel that sickness.You wonder why you do this to yourself. But  it blurred out the book, though the one at the bottom of the stack that started to peak out again.  So sometimes, I forget, but sometimes this is what happens when I remmember.

I was driving home from the mall today. It was a pitch-black night and the cold November air caused my breath to turn to smoke. I felt so free, because it was one of the first times I was driving my newly bought car. As I was driving, I was mouthing lyrics to my favorite song and I felt so genuinely happy. All of a sudden, I saw two bodies lying in the middle of the road. They were about a foot apart.  One body behind the first one. I figured this was a joke, and that somebody was testing how I was going to react. I even thought just for a moment maybe I was going to be on television. I quickly pulled to the right, naïve and unable to think clearly. I looked to the left and saw a man outside his car. The car’s windshield was completely smashed and the front bumper had indentations all over it.  I quickly looked back at the road and saw blood oozing everywhere from the  first body.  It was smeared all over the road and the second body was not moving at all. I looked in front and there were only two other cars pulled over to the right. I looked back at the strange man with glasses who was talking rapidly to what I assumed, 911 on the phone. Seeing the car, the blood, the unknown, I feel too close. I was two feet away from from the bodies, maybe dead, with a road lying under red liquid. As people slowly lined up behind my car to the side of this road, some got out to help. I sat in shock, unable to move, or drive, and was trapped in by two cars. I sat there trying not too stare at the girl who appeared to be trying to move and the gender unable to, but more likely a boy, not moving. This body had about two people checking its pulse. As six people gathered around the girl, holding her down so she would not move, as she squealed under her breath. Frozen, I sat gripping my steering wheel, and clenching my teeth. My eyes were stuck on those two bodies, it was as if I was trapped there with them. The car behind me, eventually turned around and I was slowly able to turn around and pull away from the gathered group of people, line of cars, and two possibly dead bodies. I drive up the road and hear sirens. I pulled, once again, to the right of the road, and let three ambulances pass me. I drive home blank stared and in a zombie phase. I got to the parking lot across the street from my house and began uncontrollably screaming and crying with a pain I have never felt before. I thought of their age, their families, the pain they must have felt. I also thought about how they must have felt entrapped on the cold road , unable to move or communicate, waiting for an ambulance or an afterlife. I felt so angry, and had a revelation , that the only possible thing I had in common with these two people were humanity and death. As I sat envisioning, these two bodies, I remembered my past and how once I wanted to be there. How once, I felt so low, I tried to bring myself to this ”only guaranteed factor of life.” I know I only arrived home a half hour ago but I am already feeling haunted by this incident. I will never forget what I have just seen. I now understand how precious life really is. It is not just a cliché saying to me. I now know anything can happen. I don’t think I understood the meaning of life. At age seventeen, I sit here now knowing death is horrifically permanent and that life is an unexplainable beauty. I will never forget marlborough road, and I will forever cherish the roads that my life takes me too.

give me love: not later, not tomorrow, not yesterday but today
i'm tired of hiding away to revise myself for you
there is no revising left,this is it
this is the conclusion
i know dear you liked the intro a whole lot more
im sorry, ive been chain smoking
constant painful inhales, to feel less drownings of anxiety
let my blood fill with toxins of alcoholic infatuations
another girl; kissing cheek and staring into pale blue eyes
the pale blue eyes i got stuck in for six months
on a break for revising, isolation from everyone
i changed
i changed
i changed
i faked happiness because i was not allowed to be sad
i changed
i changed
i changed
i got rid of the addictions all on my own
i changed
i changed
i changed
i am doing what makes me happy to impress you
i revised it for you, i rewrote myself for you
i changed
i changed
i changed
but i did not revise enough, so you found  a new one
my size
my height
my hair color
my eyes
my ******* name; the same name
and you took her
and left me here
with my revisions
giving  love, later, tomorrow, yesterday, and today to her

you make me unstable like-
a desk that needs a folded index car under one of the legs for balance

*** was just ***. in an evicted building. Interesting night i could infer.
First time you made me feel something. It wasn't  the waves of satisfaction but the thrill of the evicted building.How does one get to this place in their life? Well, its called the city of lynn. Just let the path of life lead you to the stop sign near seven eleven and take a right. Could infer that this was grimy, yes. Happy my vulnerable bare state wasn't the body on the wooden floor tiles. Thanks for being so considerate, you always did know how to be a gentlemen. I heard you see someone new know. I wonder if you hold the door for her? i wonder if you take her out to lunch? i wonder if you do those sappy couple things, the things i said i hated.So instead of bringing me to lunch, holding my hand , or doing anything civilized with me, we had *** in an evicted building. Thanks for making me feel wanted,
Love the women who hopes,
you got splinters in your *** from the wooden floor

Waking up in the most vulnerable state, she peeked her eyes to the left. His lids were still closed over his royal blue eyes. She quietly slid out of the turquoise covers and put on each of article of clothing, as if there was a fire drill. The adrenaline to leave the house, could not break the splitting headache erupting inside her. She crept down the all too familiar stairs and quietly creaked open the French door.
She ran to the dock and pulled out the half empty pack of her American Spirits. She decided to take out the lucky. As she watched the sunrise, she looked down at the water, and immediately started kicking the ripples, avoiding all confrontation. Harshly breathing in each puff and letting it go, only after her lungs felt like they were going to collapse. She took out a nip from her purse, ***** of course, and cheered to the new day.
Feeling uncomfortable in her own skin, she pried her leather jacket off and pulled her black dress over her bed head hair. The girl slowly slid into the water. She floated on her back, envisioning all the places she would rather be. All the other oceans, bed sheet covers, and foreign cigarettes.
Becoming conscious that the big hand on a clock had probably gone around multiple times, she slowly crawled out of the water, and rolled onto the dock. She sat for just one more minute, looking out at the sea. She whispered, “What a pretty blue” and sighed. Then she pulled the dress on, and walked to the house, as it began to rain. Arriving at that perfect-looking house, she became fixated on a tiny bit of mold that started to grow on the picket fence. Then she went inside and left her jacket at the door because she was never one to wear her emotions on her sleeve.
She crept back up the familiar stairs, and back into the turquoise covers. His eyes still sealed with slumber, appearing as if maybe he was in a never ending dream. She sat wishing sleep would embrace her, like it had for her husband. Instead she looked at the ceiling, and mouthed the word “home” as a tear slid from her eye  and dripped onto her ocean- filled hair.