I sit here
unaware that the tapping of
the yellow pencil in my
right hand is disturbing my neighbor.

I used to call him every saturday morning.

As I try not to fall asleep again
during first period,
I think about him,
about what I would take back
if I could.

I'd take back that look of sincerity,
because I wasn't.
I'd take back all of those
hours we shared in Central Park.
Not because I want to erase him.
I just want to
erase who I was.

A girl with
a reality that had been
soaked in arrogance.
Someone who didn't know
when or why
to say no.

I should have
said no to him.

I loved that he loved me.
Not because it was
him who loved me
but
because it was
someone new.
Maybe if I tried hard enough
I could have loved him back or
at least pretended to.

I don't think that
any amount of trying
would have made me
change my mind.

I can't stand people
who get mad at p(r)etty things.

You can leave, now that
you have my heart.
It follows behind you
when you go,
and takes my mind along with it.

I can't sleep without dreaming
of you.
I can't eat without feeling
nauseous over our past.

Breathing becomes hard with it's
unwavering feelings of drowning.
Drowning inside of this grey area.
You are to far away
for me to keep on
reaching.
All I want is to
escape you.
Escape us.

We will never be
again.
I tried for so long that
I've grown tired of
reaching for something
that doesn't come back
to me.

So if you would be so kind
as to leave my mind,
I would be forever grateful
for the favor.

You saw the brand new skinny ghost.
It was lost in a dream.
Beside you, you felt the inflating lungs of an angel.
Then emerged the duo.
The one the notebook created.
It left you thinking.

I saw you sitting there, on the edge thinking.
Your face morphing into a ghost.
You claimed that change wasn’t new creation.
Psychologists say that you’re trapped within a dream.
I scream because we were the extravagant duo.
Take away the angel.

Did you love the soft ways of the angel?
She always left me on the ground, thinking.
Why did she escape the duo?
I begged her to be the ghost.
Fill my head with beautiful dreams.
Take me to the time of creation.

You say I don’t appreciate,
I need to meditate,
stop,
don’t drop.
“I need you”
“You’re beautiful, Bea.”
Am I?
“Don’t leave me.”
I wouldn’t dream of it,
but I need to,
you’re killing me.
“Mother know's best.”
Do you?
“You’re just like him, a washed up *** head.”
I just need an escape.
Don’t you see?
I’m scared.
“Everything’s okay”
I know it’s not, but I will keep pretending, because that’s all you know.
“The pills will just make you more ugly.”
I am no longer beautiful.
“You only want the easy way out, to be high.”
You’re right,
I do want to be high.
High enough so your words don’t register and you kick me out of the house instead of me choosing to leave on my own.
High enough so you leave me alone.
High enough so you hug me in desperation for me to stay one more night.
High enough so I see him again in my delusions.
I think you may have scared him off with the sound of your sobs.
It’s not my fault he’s gone.
“You create the world around you.”
Remember?

I was too young
When we met

If I could turn back time
I wouldn’t

Our worlds tear us apart
They eat away at our souls
They make me feel so insignificant

Worthless
You go “home” and shove the image of me
So far back into your soul
That it might seem
To the one who doubts
That you forgot
But we both know
You never could

You
Held me with only enough time to
Watch the sun rise and set
Between the short passing of
Forty-eight hours

Stay
I’m trying
To make you a part
Of this

The fluttering of her mind began to take hold again,
this time not allowing the medicine to do what it was meant to.  
His voice finally abandoned her head
and the sound of his name
no longer
made her heart creep up into her throat.
Each day began fresh
leaving behind the waves that yesterday left.
In turn this left him nowhere near the picture frame.
Her eyes were glazed,
letting the world claim her.
She was no longer his…
So who was she?
The thought of remaking herself to be
her own being,
and not merely just
one who lives in the shadow
of whom she loved
seemed to be forever daunting.
She asked God if he could do it for her.
He slammed the door in her face
after taking notice of
her soft pathetic plea.
For it was not his job
to recreate her.