To The Someone You May Not Expect Part Two: The You

I think of you and feel a slight ache in my heart. only slight. because there's nothing i can do. nothing i can do anymore.

but tehre wasn't ever a thing i could do. not a thing any of us could do. not a thing that anyone that's ever loved you could do.

I wish i could give you simple answers or simple gifts or simple promises like everyone else. I wish i could look them in the eye and seem strong, but i can't do that with you. I haven't been able to in so long.

I have a secret i can tell only you, the you that always understands but i know you'll have nothing to say but "ok." I wish you'd make a big deal of it. hurt over it. if only to prove you loved me again. loved me like you used to.

But That's why we forget, forgot how to love one another, because it hurt too much. Because my pain was too strong. andyour pain stronger. And i tried to be strong for you, and you tried to be stonger.

And we let it eat away at us, chip away at us. at us. at us. at us.

there is no more us. only me in my life and you in yours. and only grasping hands during times of desperation. only cries of help in pleading voices.

But i want to tell you now, tell you that I love you. That I wish a thousand things and only for you. I wish I could be all the things you need me to be, to be all that you want me to be. I wish i could give you the things that even I have not found yet. I wish you could find what you are looking for.

I wish you could feel again. love again. be innocent again. be stronga nd hopeful and full of lofty dreams again. I wish you would stop doubting and stop hurting.

I wish you could find the magic of everyday moments and every day love.

I wish saying all this could somehow affect you. and could somehow reach you, the you inside that i know is bleeding.

Teenage Angst

I'm listening to vanessa carlton at 8 in the morning and my hair is still wet in that sexy wet messy on purpose sort of way. I'm dressed for school with my sexy pinstriped jacket. which is my moms. with my lacy tank with the bow in front. it's too small. And best of all i'm dancing and singing to myself feeling a thousand times cooler than i REALLY am. But being oh so sexy all fresh and clean and tasting like toothpaste. I like myself best this way, you know, clean and such.

I should be clean more often. I should be happy enough to sing more often. And oh SO happy that i could write about it more often.

(but when i write happy isn't it god awful boring? and i use me "oh SOs" and ""god awfuls" )


(PS You Rock My World.)

Don't ever take Health Science

My music makes me want to cry. And thinking of how much i want things to move forward makes it hard to breathe.

I feel like opening up my health book and reading about lal teh millions of things that could kill me: AIDs, meningitis, pneumonia, even strep throat...

I want to see the gory pictures that make me feel naseous.

I keep thinking of the testicles blue and infected, lungs swollen and black.

I want to tell you about them, about how afriad they make me. But words can't explain the disgust.

Just like words can't explain the hurt.

Sweet Tasting Drugs

All day we smoked cigarettes dipped in black sweet tasting drugs. And we waited for the lights to go out so we could go to bed. The sun began to set and the road was windy. The air warm. No music played, no sound was heard. Every sense was muffled with motion and unrealized sleep.

The sky turned that twilight, after the reds and pinks have faded color. A pale dark blue with the chill coming in.

They sat there with dead faces playing cards or talking. I couldn’t hear.

I read a book of small size with pictures and it might have been fairy tales. Everything was heavy and lethargic. Windows open I saw him slither through, like a snake. A black jacket, not trench, sideburns, but thinning hair. He looked devious and his gaze unstable. He smiled at me as he sat in the passenger seat. No. the words echoed in my head but my mouth wouldn’t form it. I knew what he wanted. I knew what he was thinking. His face didn’t move but I could hear his thoughts. I knew what he wanted. A pressing sinking feeling got harder and harder to swallow as my mind raced. As I realized what I had to do.

He sat in the driver’s chair. Just that much closer. The Panic made my heart race. The thumbtacks were orange and my nails ripped the plastic as I knew he laughed but didn’t hear a thing. My breath was screaming. I lunged for him, to push him away, to do what I could. I stabbed the tack into his hand. I punched. I slapped. I pulled. I grabbed. I reached for what I knew would be soft but was scarily hard. But he was too quick. Pushed me back to stop the damage. I needed to get out. I reached for the car door, I looked through the window. They were there. Sitting at that same table with their unexpressive faces and they didn’t move. Nothing was stirred by the wind. There was growing pain in my chest, it stopped my lung. I wished the adrenaline would kick in. I needed to fight back. Every hit I threw weakened me. Every thought of escape wearied me. I was so heavy. So tired.

The air felt too thick and my arms were too heavy and suddenly he was in the back seat. He sat next to me, his breath brushing my neck that I didn’t seem to feel. I needed to scream. They needed to hear me. They needed to see I was stuck. I fought harder, I grew weaker.

Nothing worked and he kept laughing inside my head like a maniac. The more I struggled the more it turned him on. He kept laughing inside my head like a maniac. It grew louder. It grew louder. I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t scream and the laughing kept growing louder.

I pushed the door open but the air didn’t change. I opened my mouth. I thought their names. But their faces were unresponsive. I saw a long needle on the seat and I slipped it in my fist. If I could just stop him for a second I could get away. I could get away. The seatbelt tangled around me like chains to a horrible future, ropes pulling me closer. Closer to the man that looked like the devil. I had the door open and I had something to fight back with and the seatbelts held me tighter and tighter and I couldn’t get away. They couldn’t hear my screams.

I didn’t hear a thing.

He got a hold of my hair. He pulled me further in. I knew what I had to do.

Ohhhh Sweet Surrender

So it's almost 11. and i'm hyper. and making up my own songs and telling bad jokes already.

what a day.

aaaannyyyyyooonnneeee doin' anything exciting tonight?