because its' my blog

• I am a cuddler
• I am a morning person
• I am an only child
• I am currently in my pyjamas
• I am currently pregnant
• I am left handed
• I am a little shy around the opposite gender at first
• I bite my nails
• I can be paranoid at times
• I enjoy country music
• I enjoy smoothies
• I enjoy talking on the phone
• I have a car
• I have/had a hard time paying attention at school
• I have a hidden talent
• I have a pet
• I have a tendency to fall for the “wrong” guy/girl
• I have all my grandparents
• I have been to another country
• I have been told that i have unusual sense of humour
• I have broken a bone
• I have caller I.D. on my phone
• I have bathed someone
• I have changed a diaper
• I have changed a lot over the past year
• I have friends who have never seen my natural hair colour
• I have had major/minor surgery
• I have killed another person
• I have had my hair cut within the last week
• I have mood swings
• I have no idea what i want to do for the rest of my life
• I have rejected someone before
• I like the taste of blood
• I love Michael Jackson
• I love sleeping
• I love to shop
• I own 100 CDS or more
• I own and use a library card
• I read books for pleasure in my spare time
• I sleep a lot during the day
• I watch soap operas on a regular basis
• I work at a job that i enjoy
• I would get plastic surgery if it were 100% safe, free of cost, and scar-free
• I am currently wearing socks
• I am tired
• I love to paint/draw/sketch/sculpt
• I consume at least one alcoholic drink each month

I have/had:

• Graduated high school
• Smoked cigarettes
• Ridden every ride at an amusement park
• Collected something really stupid
• Gone to a concert
• Helped someone
• Spun turn tables
• Watched four movies in one night
• Been broken up with
• Taken a college or university level course
• Been in a car accident
• Been in a tornado
• Watched someone die
• Been to a funeral
• Run a marathon
• Your parents got divorced
• Cried yourself to sleep
• Spent over $200 in one day
• Written a 10 page letter
• Had a best friend
• Lost someone you loved
• Skipped school
• Gotten in trouble for something you didn’t do
• Stolen books from the library
• Been in a mental hospital
• Watched the “Harry Potter” movies
• Fired a gun
• Been in a school play or production
• Been fired from a job
• Taken a lie detector test
• Swam with dolphins
• Attempted suicide
• Written poetry
• Read more than 20 books a year
• Gone to Europe
• Loved someone you couldn’t have
• Used a colouring book over age 12
• Had surgery
• Had stitches
• Taken a taxi
• Had more than 5 online conversations going at once
• Had a hamster
• Dyed your hair
• Had something pierced
• Gotten straight A’s
• Your parents sent you to a shrink
• Been handcuffed

My hair is naturally the colour:

• Light brown
• Medium brown
• Dark brown
• Blonde
• Black
• Dark blonde
• Strawberry blonde/Ginger
• Multicoloured

My eyes are:

• Brown
• Blue
• Grey
• Green
• Hazel
• Light brown
• A combination of things

I am:

• Male
• Female
• Other

Afraid of:

• Spider/other insects
• Dying
• Doctor/Dentist appointments
• Hospitals
• Needles
• Disease
• Being alone in the dark
• Heights
• Small spaces
• Oceans/large bodies of water
• Holes
• Large animals
• Small animals
• Open spaces
• Lightning

I have:

• A friend with benefits
• A laptop in my room
• A television in my room
• Good grades
• My own car
• Married parents

Don’t tell me lies

The other girls wanted to hear.

Since when have I ever been like them?

Wanting to be whispered sweet nothings in my ear,

Wanting to be given flowers whenever.

Loving me is like breathing.

Just be there and I am satisfied.

Please me like you do your lungs;

Breathe me in and regret letting me go,

Fear that you will never see me again.

Tell me you love me

And you don’t want to be without me.

But don’t lie to me

Don’t tell me you would rather die,

Than be without me,

That I am the only one

That you and I are forever.

I never asked for that.

I only asked for you to breath in my shampoo,

To listen to my heart beat,

To hear you say,

‘I love you.’

Nothing more, nothing less.

I only wanted you to stay

I wished for it all night long

As I cried myself to sleep

I only wanted you to love me

Only me

I wished for it as I saw you looking around

I only wanted you hold me

Not tell me lies

I have always been afraid.....
always been pretending to follow you closely,
always been pretending to sharpen my teeth,
when the truth is, I am...
scared to death just treading on your shadow.

Sometimes

things happen in your life and you convince yourself it wasn't a big deal and you force yourself to move on, to forget. After some time you begin to believe it wasn't as big as you thought it was and sometimes you even forget, but it is a big deal. And you shouldn't fool yourself. 

it’s kind of sad when you’re just so lonely, laying in bed, just thinking and you just need someone really bad because its so dark and there’s too much space around you and too many thoughts that need to be shared

Ever since I found out two years ago that I've had a murmur since I was born I've found it hard to trust my mother. I keep feeling like theres something wrong with me but she won't tell me. I know its stupid but its the way I feel. I have trust issues and abandonment issues thanks to both my parents, and friends of course.

           I've had dreams where I'm looking at myself stand at the top of a cliff and I'll look down to see nothing but darkness and I could feel the cold wind blow from behind me. My hair would wave in front of my face and my knee length summer black dress would blow in front of me as if wishing me to jump. I look up and see the full moon shining bright against a flat starless night. The air smelt like the winter snow and my feet itched against the still green grass.

            I found myself wishing for it to end, to make it all go away, to find real happiness. I'd smile as I looked at the full moon and close my eyes. I lean my head back and opened my arms as if I was going to hug someone. It's done, I'd think as I lean forward. The wind pushed harshly against me. It was like flying. It was like heaven. I was alone and happy, the way I liked it. I opened my eyes and saw the rocky landing. A sharp rock aimed for my heart and another for my head. It’s coming. It'll end fast then you can be happy forever. 

I wrote a poem around you

that filled you up in star dust

I wrote a story about us

and told the world to be soundless.

You whispered to me 

forever under the moonlight.

It built me up and tore me down

it was the ocean 

and it's calling me now.

To be quite honest,

I am slightly terrified of living.
     I dream of running away at the dead of night on my eighteenth birthday. I wish to travel to the west coast and see for myself if the grass is greener or the ocean cleaner. I want to dine and dash because I ran out of money. I want to work on a farm. I want my hands to get rough with labor. I want to fall in love and get hurt. I want to have children and return home full of regret for falling in love with a married man. I want to raise my children and teach them to be brilliant, free thinking, thrill seekers. I want to raise them to be everything I was always to scared to be.
     I want them, to be nothing like me because I'll always be to afraid live.

What's wrong with me?

I shed no tears or I shed too much.

I push everyone away but at night, when I am all alone, I cry from loneliness.

Why is it that when people tell me I am deeply disturbed I feel the happiest?

I want the kind of love that makes it possible to write a 50 page description of them sleeping. The kind of love that even with a small but long peck on the lips is full of so much passion and love that they inhale your breath and you need to lean on them for support. The kind of love that makes you dizzy at a simple touch.

I,

     My whole life I've only been told how dangerous the world is, how fragile the human body is and how quick your mental state can decay. No one has ever told me the joys of living or the feeling of a quickened heartbeat when you're standing atop a mountain you've climbed. No one has told me of a happiness so amazing you'd drive yourself insane trying to feel it again. I have never once been told that they've cried of happiness.
     Life was simple to them. School, college, job, marriage, children, death. No extraordinary, no imagination, NO LIVING. No bungee jumping, the rope might brake. No motocross, you could die. No running down the street stark naked in the middle of the night, you might get arrested. No boyfriends, you could get pregnant. No falling in love, teenagers are stupid when in love. No sleep overs, you might get raped by their father or brother. No LIVING.
     But it was their mistake. They were in the wrong. Don't blame me for something they did. Don't make me so afraid to live I cry. I want to put my life on the line, I want a record, I want to REGRET. I want proof that I AM ALIVE. I want proof that I AM LIVING. I want to make mistakes I regret, I WANT A CHANCE TO REGRET.
     I want to climb to the top of Mount Everest spread my arms out and scream, "I AM ALIVE, THIS IS ME LIVING. HEAR ME SREAM!" I don't care if I am remembered by anyone other than my family, I just want them to know, I LIVED MY LIFE TO THE UTMOST LIMITS. I LIVED, PROVED IT, AND DIED. I HAD CHILDREN AND CLIMBED A MOUNTAIN AND RODE ON A CAMEL AND HAD AN AFFAIR WITH AN AFRICAN MAN WHO'S WORDS I COULD BARELY UNDERSTAND, I LIVED IN KOREA FOR FIVE YEARS, FELL IN LOVE, GOT MARRIED, AND BECAME A WIDOW.
     I want to feel the pain of proof that I AM ALIVE.
 I AM STILL HERE. I AM STILL HERE. I AM STILL HERE. I AM STILL HERE.
             I WAS NOT AFRAID TO LIVE. I WAS NOT AFRAID TO LIVE.

I was NOT afraid to live.

It's not that I'm scared of the dark, It's just that there's too much space at night. Too much room to wonder about. Too much empty cold space. I keep voicing my need of isolation but in the dark I'm most vulnerable and it's in the dark when I realize I hate being alone because the coldness that surrounds me is that only thing I have and, it scares me.

"Memories are what warm you up from the inside. But they’re also what tear you apart."

— Kafka on the Shore, Haruki Murakam

Is it weird to look up to someone younger than you?

     I look at smiling pictures of my little cousin and think, "Wow, I wish I could smile so happily." But then I remember anyone can put on a fake smile in a picture and make it seem real. I remember that we've been through the same experience. I remember being four years old and getting molested for the first time. I remember her telling me she had been getting molested by the same man. Only difference was he lived in her garage and she was two years younger than me. Then I think, maybe she's forgotten about it. Maybe she received therapy, maybe she found a way to deal with it, maybe she was young enough to be able to turn it into a simple nightmare that was never reality.
     Is it weird to look up to someone younger than you? When I was in forth grade and she was entering second grade she finally told her parents what had been happening. When I was asked if it ever happened to me my body reacted on its own embarrassment and denied any such claims. It might have been the fact that my mother asked me while washing the dishes and my brother standing next to her or maybe it wasn't. But I regret it because maybe it I had admitted it, if I had told someone, anyone, I wouldn't feel as disgusting and perverted as I do now. Maybe if I had always admitted everything that has ever happened to me I wouldn't feel the need to cut myself. Maybe if I told my mom that five different guys molested me at different times I wouldn't suffer from depression.
     But in this life maybe isn't good enough and it doesn't get you anywhere. Still I can't bring myself to acknowledge my past and admit it. Not to anyone besides the cousin I haven't seen since I was 10 in the fifth grade. The only one to ever know my secret will be her and her alone.
 

          By the time you read this it'll be too late. You'll never truly know, how in love with you I was. The way your smile made me smile. The way your eyes always smiled. The way you held onto me when you were near your friends. The way you showed the girls how lucky I was. The way you teased me. The way that smirk of yours got me all hot and sent a bolt of excitement through me. The way you pushed me to the edge, dared me. Made me break every rule my mother ever laid out for me. The way you always managed to make me feel pretty even when I wore sweat pants, a baggy tee, and had messy hair. The way you always forgave me when I did something wrong. They way you never blamed me. The way you didn't care who was around us when we were together.

         I miss the late night conversations from sundown to sunup. The pulsing race I got when we went out because I was scared we'd get caught by my family. The excitement you gave me. I loved sneaking around with you. Loved holding your hand. The feel of your skin against mine.
        I just wished we were lucky enough to make it through life together. Why did you have to go and cheat? Why did I half to go and move? Why did my heart have to break in two?

       By the time you read this it'll be too late. You'll have moved on. To a beautiful skinny tall brunette with big assets. But don't worry. I've always loved you too much. Sure if I thought I stood a chance I'd fight for you, but I want you to be happy. Just like when you thought I loved my best guy friend and you broke up with me, because you thought I'd be happier. I'll let you go so, so you can be happier. I only hope maybe one day you'll come back, because I think we were meant to be.

Slowly those memories of ours where washed away and replaced with a bitter knowledge of a smiling demon in every picture and my ignorant one beside it.

I found out what we learn when we die
I found out the truth is all a big lie
I found out that words are hard to describe
I’ll tell you what we know now
It’s we run or we hide.-Bathroom stall

Because of you I remember why I have no self respect.

     At twelve you did the unspeakable. You fell in love. You experienced a kind of love you couldn't feel anywhere else. A two minute hug in the hall between classes only felt like a second. A kiss on the cheek was enough to send your toes curling and roses to your cheeks. An arm around your waist and a "Baby get over here," was enough to make your heart pound. Love was enough to make you forget everything else. Love was enough to set sail under a rose tinted sky leaving behind worries of a bitter past. Love was enough to forget about troubles at home or with friends. His encouragement was enough to get you straight A's year round. You were sure everyone could see the pink sky and smell the flowers in the air.
     But it was only an illusion. The pink sky hid a black hole who's sight was set on you, because it was your sky and not everyone elses. The flowers in the air was to cover up the smell of rotting dreams. The flower field you had left your love behind had disappeared and its traces only a memory. The sky began to melt and the air turned to smog and you found your self fighting to stay alive. You were thrown into a world where nothing made since and school wasn't as important as the rent money.
     Your mother tried to hide it from you but you always saw the red notices under her bed. You were forced to move around and around while you watched your mother switch lovers every year, because the bills needed to get paid. You watched her struggle as she tried to keep you away from it but you were always more attentive than she though. You helped her study when she went back to school. You watched her brake your promises one after the other. You began to resent her as you did your father. You dreamed of getting out. You dreamed of finding love, no matter who's arms they were in. You dreamed of finding love comparable to a twelve year old who remained hidden behind rose shade glasses.

"When in that moment, so it came to pass, Titania waked and straightway loved an ass."

- Puck, A Mid-Summer Night's Dream; Act 3, Scene 2

Disgusting.

     I never go on facebook, mainly because I don't like social networking sites. But while surfing through 'friends you may know' I saw a name I recognized but a face I didn't. So I clicked in. I found this boy I knew from elementary only now he was a lot cooler and better looking than before. I'm not saying he was cute, because to me he wasn't even slightly attractive, but he looked better than before. It was not until after that I realized it could have just been someone else with the same first name, because I couldn't seem to remember his last name at the time. Still, I realized something.
     I always stand against bullying and say I hate it and the people who do it, but I was one of them, to this boy at least. Sometimes. I would make fun of him and blackmail him with horror stories from third grade (peeing yourself in class is something you can never out live). It's not that I was so bad or mean that he hated me, he liked me and we got along fine, but I still sometimes playing bully with him.Yet when people made fun of him or made him cry I would go crazy trying to defend him.
     The point is: when I made him cry, or sad, in return I had a gratifying feeling. And I find that disgusting.
     That I could find happiness from someone elses pain scares me more than anything. I do not want to be labeled a sociopath or some other kind of -path I just want to be happy. But then as I was writing this I realized this happened in sixth grade.
     That was the period in which my parents were going through a divorce and I was no longer the only kid in class with parents who were still together. I was coming to terms with my father being from a third world country from where a women's place is the kitchen and her king, her husband. A father who I learned told my mother to get an abortion the moment he learned I had been conceived. A father who, now that I learned, was mentally and emotionally abusing me and was neglecting me. A father who called me an idiot and was convinced I would never amount to anything in life. A father who my mother felt sure would try to kidnap if he had the chance.
     This is the man that 'raised' me. This was only a short list of things he did to me, the list of mental and emotional abuse he did to my mother could go on forever. An abuse I never even noticed.
     And I realize, now, that the reason I found happiness in his, the boy I bullied, pain is because my home life went to shit in a matter of two seconds.
    In these two seconds two things happened; One: my mother was physically abused, for the first time. And two: I saw it.

Beneath the Willow Tree.

The willow tree blows in the wind
Its hangs low brushing against the grass
Crows dive to the ground and stretch their wings
They feel the wind glide past them
Bugs swarm the tree
Family gatherings of 3
Thousand.

Deep within the ground
Beyond the confines of ants
Below the earth worms home
Tangled up in the tree roots
Where the soil is always moist
And the oxygen lacking
Lies a body of two
Their nutrients sucked dry
To keep the tree alive
Worms and insects eat Their eyes
Their skeletal figures screaming for help.
Eternally screaming for something that will never come.

A Wrinkle in Cake

His wrinkles glisten in the moon light
he snuck into the kitchen to steal a bite
the sweet cake sits on the table
ready but unwilling to satisfy his sweet tooth
it tries to move but its glued
not much places a cake can run to
with limbs so short their invisible
how can it get away
it has no choice but to stay
it waits and watches
as the old man touches
the cake knows it's time
to open up and give it up
the cake has no hope
no chance to struggle for survival
the poor cake lets the old man nibble
what choice does it have but to give a little
it's sweetness now corrupt and used
it's no good for the publics use
how will the cake go on
it's broken and torn
with no more goods inside

What the Willow Tree Saw.

Down below
where the willow tree grows
Lives a blue rotting corpse
It takes hand of all who go
Coxing them to follow home
Trapped below all alone
Her soul will never rest
Never wander the streets alone
She’ll take your soul
Her only goal
To spread the pain
No one saw.

As a child

Dismembered on the inside

smiling on the outside.

I still hear my cries

from when my father hit my mom.

The slap still echos

through the valleys of my mind.

The first act of violence

I've ever been scared of.

As a child of nine

dealing with the pain

of losing a father

who never cared

being reminded

your just like him

they turn their back

and say bad things.

Does this mean

I'm as bad as him?

As a child of ten I had no way

to deal with the pain.

Going against my family

and going insane.

Acting like an angel

with good grades.

While lying to my mother

and going to a club.

Having a boyfriend

and going to his house.

As a child of eleven

I discovered sharp objects.

Feelings tearing away

from the inside out.

Taking the razor

and dragging it

across my wrist.

They took away the pain

of being me.

As a child of twelve

I discovered hot metal objects.

Placing them against my skin

feeling the tear down my cheek.

The discolored skin

of being burned

by a flat iron.

It eliminated the pain.

As a teen of fourteen

I discovered my mother was a liar.

She promised never to get married.

She doesn't even love him.

Yet here I am

being torn away

from my mother

and left with my grandmother

like a piece of luggage.

She didn't even care.

I continued with my escapes.

As a teen of fifteen

I discovered something

I don't very much like

my family.

No one noticed

when I started to change.

The black pants and shirts.

The sudden want of darkness and cold.

Long sleeves in the middle of summer.

No skin shown when it's 100 degrees.

No one ever noticed

how much pain I hid.

No one ever cared

to undo the mask

that hid my pain.

No one ever cared

enough to make me change.

So I lie here in my grave.

At the age of sixteen

because I discovered

I never meant a thing.

Collecting Debts

Rain pounds on the living room window

Steam rises out from my cup

My friend and I stare out into the rain

Five minutes to midnight

The rain echos through out the house

Thunder booms from outside

Only it isn't thunder

Gun shots echo each other

One after another

Drive by shooters run away

Seconds later sirens are heard

Red and blue lights flash outside

“CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS”

Because of the grandsons bad habits

the family had to pay.

Don't give me that.

Don't you see

your not worth my changin'

Why should I change

when you should want me for me.

I see through all your faults.

Your screaming voice and your

tight grip on my shoulders.

Your supernatural thoughts and

your need to control.

'Cause

I smile all the time.

'Cause

I laugh at every little thing.

'Cause

I like to dance and sing

and I always dream of stars.

I'm perfectly wonderful.

So tell me why

I should change for you.

I'm perfectly extraordinary

Me.

You'd Think

Books fill up the wall

a guitar leans against the closet door

my piano beside it.

You'd think I'd

be happy

being spoiled.

With my mother being single

it means she had to get married

again.

It means moving away.

Suddenly being spoiled

doesn't seem so good.

This time I'm the poor kid

looked down on.

Passed by.

Banished aside.

The book store clerk

knows my name

I can't seem to remember his

my teachers say I

need to do my homework

I find reading more important.

My 'friend' invites me

to her house.

I invite myself home.

I wish to be alone.

Is that so wrong?

I wish to be back at home.

My real home.

with my real friends

Not my pretends.

She wonders why

I never take her home.

How do I say

'I don't want to'

so it won't hurt her?

How do I say

'I like being alone'

to someone who wont listen?

How do I say

'I don't like you'

to someone who wont hear it?

You'd think I'd be happy

to be away from the drama

the fights and guns.

But I miss the known,

when everyone knew my name,

the screams of my friends,

not doing my work because

I was talking

and not because

I didn't want to.

You'd think I'd be happy

to be alone.

You'd think I wouldn't care.

I wouldn't dare.

You'd think I'd be happy

if you were wrong.

Oh Momma

‘Mom, mom, mom,
Mommy, mommy, mommy
Maria, Maria, Maria’
‘What’
‘I love you’
I turn around and walk away
I picture your smile on your face
I want to turn around
To see it one more time
But I fear if I do
I might break down and cry

Battered and used
By the man you loved
Watched helplessly by the blood filled couch
As the man you loved beat your child
You wanted to help me
Believe me momma I know
It’s not your fault
Why I do what I will
But the pain the man caused is just so real

Please forgive me
For what I do
Say you’ll forgive me
For what I say
There’s not much any one can do
Forgive yourself for what you think
You didn’t raise me like this
But the pain is still in your eyes
I want to make you feel safe again

I’ll take this razor and slit his wrists
Take a bat and break his ribs
Shatter a beer bottle on his head
Nail his hand to the coffee table
Cut his precious toy off and hang it above the mantel
Make him scream for help
And watch the salty tears run down his face
Make him feel what we both felt
And when I’ve finally had enough
I’ll take the gun and put it to his head

And when I’m done
I’ll take the gun and run
So you won’t feel more pain
I’ll lay your worries at rest
I’ll take this next right and jump
to my glorious death

Wrong place, Wrong time

Bewildered eyes stare at me.
He can't believe what he's done.
In a moment of rage and despair
he's taken the life of his friend.


Alcohol intoxicated him
party goers encouraged him.
His friend brought a gun
only to land in his hands.


Blood spills from the chest
of his old friends dead body.
Friends since diapers
only to be torn apart.


It wasn't supposed to be this way.
What they had encouraged
they now fear.
They despise the monster they created.


The hostess can't believe her eyes.
She only just told them to go outside.
Her fourteenth birthday ended in chaos.
How could it have gone so wrong?


They called a truce
so they could party.
Only some couldn't
follow the command.


It's another day
in the city of Snakes and Fishes.
Just another gang war
gone horribly right.


So now his bodies gone
to the cemetery tonight
the rival gang is on a quest
to even the score.


This cycle will never end.

Silence

      My mother leaves for work. The door slams. The unwelcome sun sneaks in threw the blinds. I sit there with my knees to my chest. I go to war with tears. No police sirens are heard. No gun shots echo through the town to my ears. Miles way from my real home. Alone. Times flown by. The new year is winding down. For the fist time in a long time music doesn't stain my ears.

     I stare out the window watching children play below it. They drift away. I wonder if they know how lucky they are. All they worry about is what game to play. Suburban neighbor hood keeps them safe while city kids fight for their lives.

     For the first time silence is all I want. To hear no gun shots that make me wonder if my friends are dead. No sirens taunt me. Here there's no noise. The silence tells me there is still hope for tomorrow. The silence tells me I'm safe. I'll live for another day.

     I think I'm beginning to like silence. I close my eyes and breath in. I hear my heart beating so loudly within me. Is this really my heart? Where have you been?

     Silence I welcome you. For now.

Blurring Lines

It seems I can no longer see
The line between truth and fiction
The lines have blurred and vanished

I stand all alone
With nothing but my imagination to occupy my time
I stand in a hall
With a blue bird that sings with words
I stand in a garden
With the daisy’s that speak
I stand alone in a closet
With a mirror that loathes me
In the mirror is a girl, she’s me
I sit all alone in a room
With a book
In it is a blue bird that sings with words and daisy’s that speak

The girl’s journey become my memories
This paper story turns into my life
Her life now mine
When you ask me what I did today
I will say
I met a blue bird that sings with words
A daisy that speak
And I hid in a closet
Looked into a mirror
Who spit at me

Appease

The pressure got to me

it hit me until I was on my knees

bowing down to appease.

I became enslaved.

Whipped until I bled.

Starved until I could no longer move.

The pressure set into my bones

like stink of a skunk.

Only no tomato juice will set this out.

Age done not ' in but cage.

It enlarged the fury.

Appease thy world

appease thy parent

appease thy elders

appease all but thy self.

The pressure crumples me

the presence of an old lady

I'm no longer my self.

Broken and tired

of being what they want

appease all but myself.

I think not.

Screams

He screams her name
Slaps her across the face
He wants answers
That don’t exist
He throws her against the wall
Punches it until wires touch his skin
She begs him to stop
She tells him no lies
He won't have it
He wants her to say yes

She screams his name
The lies he tells
She never questions
She’s scared of his hands
They encircle her neck
Evidence always left behind
She reminds him of the girl
Sitting by the bedroom door.

She hears the screams
Her mothers voice
Clouds up her ears
She so afraid
Cowering in the corner
Covering her ears
She hears the door slam
But knows it's not over.

Excuse the sarcasm.

Does it look like I need your help?

I'm perfectly fine

these tears won't stain.

What tears you ask,

oh the tears that hide beneath my skin.

They slither down when they think no bodies looking

It's fine

It doesn't hurt a bit

I'm used to it.

They come out when my hearts alone

because no one can see it.

You see it's broken and torn

missing pieces oh and how big the hole is.

I don't need your help

It's fine it doesn't hurt

it helps if you keep it bottled up

it helps if you alienate your self.

I had a best friend once...

     She meant a lot to me. She was the first friend I didn't have to share. She was a best friend who wanted me in her life enough to cry tears when I misunderstood her and refused her friendship. She was the first best friend who I could lay in the same bed with as the sky decided to descend and laugh hysterically until we had to pee and her grandmother yelled from the other room to keep it down. We'd talk until we feel asleep, her loud snores keeping me up a little longer. And as the moon watched over our sleeping figures she'd mumble in her sleep, toss and turn and slap me across the face.
     She wasn't exactly pure, or smart, or pretty, or a relatively calm and sane person, but neither was I. Where I lacked in anger she lacked in forgiveness. When I failed to produce a vociferous voice she would transform into a lioness, standing up for me while I repeated, "It's okay." Knowing full well it was not okay. It was never, okay. At times I, admittedly, wanted to punch her in the face but I never could because like a perfect friend our souls fit perfectly together, complimenting where the other failed.
     Somewhere in between though, everything began crumbling. Slowly at first. I don't even know when the mirror between us shattered but, when I finally noticed it was far too late.
     I could no longer take away her sorrow. I was the source for her pain.
     Because I lived with my mother. Because my mother worries about me. Because I had an older brother who looked out for me. Because I was richer than her. Because I lived in a house. Because I had the latest phone. Because the boy choose me over her. Because I didn't want her boyfriend.
     Because I couldn't see soon enough to soothe her worries and insecurities. Because she was jealous she didn't see what was right in front of her.
     A little brother who looked up to her. A grandmother with a heart problem who cooked and sold food to buy her only granddaughter, that she had raised as her own child, the latest clothes and jewelry made of gold. A grandmother who loved her so much she couldn't bare taking that last breath until her granddaughters voice rang on the other side of the hospital phone line.
     The jealousy made her cold and disgusting. Discarding and patronizing the women who had every right to hate and relinquish every right to her granddaughter but never, could even dream of it.

"We all have the potential to fall in love a thousand times in our lifetime. It’s easy. The first girl I ever loved was someone I knew in sixth grade. Her name was Missy; we talked about horses. The last girl I love will be someone I haven’t even met yet, probably. They all count. But there are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you’ll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there’s still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of these lovable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they’re often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really, want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else."

-Chuck Klosterman

Sarah Kay: If I should have a daughter ...

http://youtu.be/0snNB1yS3IE

The first 3:55 minutes and the last 4 minutes. x3

I wish I was more magnanimous than I pretend to be but all I am is a bit stoical and urbane, and I can't even do that right.
I keep trivial grudges and imagine about 20 different scenarios of revenge while you forget it ever happened. I'll slither into your spot amongst your friends and let them invite me to your pool party. And once I am satisfied I will kindly drop your friends after I make them hate you. Because I am not half as magnanimous as I pretend to be, because I cannot forgive liars, cheaters, hypocrites, and back stabbers. Whether you did it to me or the class idiot.
It probably just makes me as bad as you.

I like the parts of you
that are not the parts of me,
the furry paws of your knees
and the angular metal of your upper arm.
So often I turn to touch softness
and find taut rope and hard glass.

My body stretches elastic
to meet and hold forum
with the hollow of your back.
I crawl under your thrown face
and find moist refuge.

In such moments
I forget your bones and fingernails.
I surrender to the mud that moves with us,
sinking and rising
in the steam that is our common element.

- Lisa C. Taylor

"She feels more alive in her own dreams."

Things To Remember;

• Migratory birds always find their way back home. 
• Even at its darkest, the sky is never entirely black.  The moon flower opens in mid to late afternoon and blooms right through the night. When the sun rises in the morning, the moon flower dies and another is born that exact time the next afternoon. 
• “You cannot save people, you can only love them.” - Anais Nin. 
• No one is ever, ever entirely alone

                                                I'm waiting for my autumn.

     As I finished reading a mange I began thinking about an anime I began watching but never finished. I started to think about my past before I moved. I normally have horrible memory so I didn't expect to remember much of it. But the harder I thought the more I realized I spent the majority of my time on networking sites and web chats. I guess that's what happens when your in a major city where no one really cares about you.

     At first I didn't want to move, or rather I was hesitant. I had grown up in the same city my whole life, I didn't know anything else. To go from a major city to a small podunk little town with 28,801 people and nothing to do sort of, changes you. Your friends don't try to keep contact, the people in town are so scared by a new comer they completely ignore and avoid you, and you find out new things about yourself.

     I am still kind of pissed that I moved. I think I rather be with my fake friends than be alone, but I am also grateful. If i hadn't moved I probably would have been caught up in twitter and Facebook. I would have never learned that I actually really like writing and making up stories. Surrounded with so many people it sort of forces you into situations where sometimes you have to deny who you really are to avoid getting jumped. In the small town though the only thing you have is yourself. 

     The first couple months I spent here were horrible. I had no friends, my TV connection was horrible, I was sleeping on a futon mattress on the floor, and there are not enough cell towers to let me have a single uninterrupted conversation with my friends on the phone. Left to my own devices I found books.

     The first book I bought and read was Stephenie Meyers Twilight quickly followed by her other novels. Then I began buying almost 5 books at a time and I'd have finished them before the end of the week. At one point I spent 157 dollars just on books (they were hard covers from Barns and Noble). Now a days if you asked me what the newest series on TV was or if you asked me what was the trendiest networking site, I couldn't tell you.

     Anyways, after that I found writing, and I've been consumed by it completely since the day I started writing.


     Lately though, I've been wanting more.
                                                I'm waiting for my autumn.

     I woke up to the smell of french toast, fresh out the oven chocolate chip muffins, greasy bacon, and disgusting sausage. I immediately knew something was up.
     My mother nearly never cooks breakfast. A good cereal, some orange juice and a Special K bar is all you need in the morning, she always says when I ask her to make me something. I could tell by the noise and smell's that she was cooking up a feast. Sneaking a glance at the calender behind my door the date said July 2.
     A couple more weeks before I start my college courses, I remind my self.
     I was excited to finally go to school and learn everything I was interested in but I was also terrified. Going to college meant acknowledging my age and the future. Everything is so simple when your living with you parents. They pay the bills, clean your clothes, clean the house, and cook for you. You don't really have anything to worry about. Going to college meant bills, debt, rat infested apartments, and roommates. It meant facing the future and moving on.
     I groaned and turned over in bed. These eighteen years were going so well, a couple more years wouldn't hurt... "Absolutely not. I'll just turn into my brother. A twenty nine year old living in her mother's basement."
     Regrettably I forced myself to get up but I only got as far as my feet on the floor and my butt on the bed. Just then my brother burst through the door with out knocking. "Hey sis! How are you? Good, nice to know. Come down we have a big day ahead of us." He rushed never waiting for a answer.
     "What is today?" I had intended to ask but he closed the door before I could.
     I thought about it. July fourth was... well it was July fourth and July first, was not a holiday. July third is a day better left unmentioned in my family. So what was so special about this July second? I thought about family birthday's and family event's but nothing beside my cousins birthday came to mind.
     I decided to head down stairs and ask.
     As my made my way down though it seemed to grow silent and still in the kitchen. I became suspicious. My family wasn't on for silence but it was one for trickery. Every year on Christmas at least one person had to have a trick pulled on them. Birthday present's were usually kept a secret until they tricked you. Then you have everyday in between which seemed like the worst because you never expect it.
     I tip toed down the small hall and just as I turned the corner Champagne Bottle Confetti Poppers, Bang Bombs, and Bang Pops started going off like car alarms during a hurricane. I jumped a little already used to loud sneak attacks from my family.
     "Happy 18 Birthday!" Everyone shouted.
     Once they were done I was left standing covered in confetti with Bang Pops at my feet. Frozen to my spot anticipating another attack I watched my mother grab a plate full of greasy bacon off the counter and head to the table with them.
     "Today is my birthday? And, wasn't I already 18?"
     My family looked at my dumbstruck. Collective sigh's came from everyone as they dropped their happy faces. My mother sat down practically slamming the plate full of bacon down on the table.
     "Honestly, I don't know how you are going to survive on your own. You can't even remember your own age or birthday." My mother voiced looking at the table in dismay.
     "You are hopeless." My father said almost grief stricken.
     My brother just laughed and hugged me.
     Alright, so this wasn't the first time i forgot my birthday. Sure as I live on Earth that I've forgotten my age before. Wasn't my fault. I am not blond or anything, just forgetful.

     I am going to try writing everyday. I have a habit of starting thing's and never finishing (it's a curse). I will post some of my writing's and projects.
     I started a story a while back but it was too cliche to continue, before that though I started working on the sequel. The 'sequel' is more of a short story than anything. It's 16 pages and way better than the original story. Here is an excerpt.

She's my queen.

      “Sir, I know should hold my tounge but..It's been almost six's months do not you think that maybe she is..umm.. have you thought that she might possibly be...” The young man stopped unable to say the word that left a bitter taste on his tounge. He thought about the possibilty of the new to-be Queen dead and found it horrid. When she had first come to stay at the masion he felt nothing but hatred for her. She was supposed to be the queen of a vampire kingdom. A human child only 17. The thought at first made him laugh but as he got to know her he came to love her. Everyone whom she met loved her. Maybe that is what got her in this position.

     “Dead?” The young man looked up at the Prince. That was a mistake. “You were right. You should hold your tounge...and swollow it.” The Prince said disgusted that the young soldier would ever even consider that idea.

     “Sorry Sir. I meant no harm. It's just...” The young gaurd stopped unable to even finish the sentence. If they were to find the young to-be Queen dead the Prince would fall apart. Along with the prince the kingdom would be in turmoil. The Prince's older brother would have to take the place as king, if ever the king steps aside or dies.

     “If you meant no harm talk not about it. She is alive.” His hand went up to touch a heart shapped locket that sat on his neck. It was too small for his neck but it was just the right size for his beloved. It was the only thing that was left behind. “I can feel her.” The prince said softly slowly drifting into his thoughts. “She's alive. He wouldn't have killed her. He wants her alive.” The words were meant for himself, he was trying to convince himself.

     Both, the young guard and the Prince's thoughts slowly drifted away to that night.

* * *

     “What are you doing here?” The second youngest Princess asked her younger brother. Sitting in the middle of the living room on the couch and chairs were all the heirs to the thrown; three Princesses and three Princes. The looked up at him smiling from ear to ear, knowingly.

     “Looking for mom and dad.” The prince said smiling.

     Everyone nodded their head. “Where's Alexandra?” She asked unable to stop the giggle that came after.

     “Asleep.” He laughed and ran a hand throw his hair.

     Again, everybody nodded their head. “So....” She waited for her brother to tell the news but he didn't say anything. If he were human his face would be red. “Is she going to marry you?” She half screamed unable to hid the enthusium anymore.

     The Prince looked at her unsurprised and laughed. “Yes.” He laughed. Then in the blink of an eye his siblings where surrounding him with hugs and kisses congraulationg him. The marrage had been a sort of arranged marriage so when the Prince and young Alexandra, the soon-to-be Queen, meet again after 6 years and she didn't like him everyone thought it would be a failier. To everyone's astonishment the Prince and Alexandra grew close.

     Of course there was an unforseen misdirection when the King, Queen and the heirs found out she had already previously dated a vampire. The vampire was none other than Lord Damin, the Prince's best friend. Much to the Prince's dismay neither of them were over eachother, atleast not fully. The Queen had decided that Alexandra must choose between the Prince and Lord Damin. Which is why the marriage was a huge suprise for the Royal family.