1.
my hands won't stop shaking, and I like to pretend it's
because they are filled with the stardust of your words
and infused with the chemicals of your skin
2.
you haven't spoken to me in weeks and haven't touched
me in even longer
3.
I also pretend that the twinkling lights all around
represent each of our promises
4.
in a few days' time, the lights will be gone and put away
(an echo of our plans)
5.
I see you in the glint of sunlight on the cornfields and the
glow of the moon when I'm still awake at three in the
morning and the ***** of the mountains that trap us in this
town together and in the curve of my own lips
6.
the lips that I'm starting to believe you didn't think about
kissing as much as I thought about kissing yours
7.
most of all, I see you in the emptiness of the fog each
morning
8.
I have to stop myself from thinking your name
9.
all my plans must be scratched out of my
furnishings and a new layer carved on
10.
I'm scared because I don't know how to be me
without you

Favorite excuse: I'm tired.
Works like a charm.  
Everytime.
Ninetypercentofthetime.

I am tired from lack of sleep
I am tired of being soft-spoken, shy, unsure, standoffish, rude, ******,
I am tired of people talking behind my back
I'm tired of talking behind their backs
I'm tired of being speechless; not knowing what to say,
                                                                                how to say it...
                                                                                       when to say it.
I'm tired of talking to myself
[I like to think I'd love some company]
I'm tired of beating my brains out.
Tired of trying to spend time with people who don't want to spend time with me.
Tired of trying to find new friends [how many people live in the world? why am I alone?]
Tired of fake and fumbled attempts at fostering flailing and failing friendships.
I'm tired of being in a room full of people who see me but don't really see me;
who know me, but only a little.  Hardly.
Who either hate or love what I am now
Who wish I'd go back to the precious, less-scary, much-more-approachable girl that I used to be.

The baby that they ooh'ed and ahh'ed and cuddled into this mush.
A mush that they could mold into anything
they wanted.
They pulled
my arms and stretched my legs.
They smoothed
and straightened "Ooh, yeah, that looks good," they'd murmur under hot, concentrated breath.
But after all, I was only a mush.
Not a tangible and workable [fixable] medium.
Not sugar, not spice, not everything nice; certainly NOT what little girls are made of.

A semicolon
Is the symbol for something
That should have ended
But didn't
So what is the symbol
For something that ended
But shouldn't have?
I will search for this symbol
And when I find it
I will send it to you
A thousand times
In hopes that you will
Understand

I often wonder
if anyone has ever glanced at me
out of the corner of their eye
over and over again
because they didn't want to stare
but weren't able to look away

I wonder who, if anyone, has ever
caught their breath before
it even entered their lungs
because they thought they saw my curls
and was disappointed
because it was not me

I wonder if anyone's heart
has ever skipped a beat
because I smiled at them
or was driven insane
by my casual actions
and was dying to let me know
that for them,
everything was anything but casual
when it came to me

and I wonder if anyone
has ever sat in their room
with all the lights off
listening to love songs
and my name running through their head

I wonder
if anyone has ever
felt the way I do
about you