maybe until our hands reach out and we fly anti gravity boots straight up to the moon and beyond stretching for each other as we go our separate ways only to meet again will we be together.
certainly after the money under the mattress has dissolved into our dead skin that pools and becomes dust will our children find us holding hands, the chicken carcass sitting in the stove from the last time i tried to cook you dinner.
we will take walks together, even though right now you hate them, and when i start to go blind and demented you will remember my passion for the written word and in your gravelly worn voice will read me volumes of poetry you don't understand.
across the universe we will sing our wedding song that i have secretly chosen, and i will dissolve into cackling laughter leaving you to be the strong one.
or maybe i am the strong one and i don't know it yet- i have a tendancy to float on when all i want to do is drown, and maybe it will be you that needs me, stricken with grief or cancer or something even more morbid.
i'm sorry, i think of these things.
i would put down my pen, and pick up the baby, and learn to make the best mashed potatoes you ever had -even better than your mothers- and we would become one person under the fool moon as our baby becomes a graduate and builds his own nest.
today and tomorrow, shaky as they are, give way to a future in which there is only you and me, only forever, here and now.

Ii’m just going to ramble about my life/whats going on in my head right now and if you don’t like it then don’t read it. I don’t mean that rudely at all, I just mean if you don’t like it there isn’t any reason to keep reading and then treat me like shit because you didn’t like the things I said.

I got a new tattoo the other day, it is my second. It says “find your freedom in the music, find your jesus, find your cupid.” The lyrics are from ‘dance in the dark’ and they mean a lot to me because its about loving yourself and being yourself when people are trying their best to put you down. I am thinking of getting “in the religion of the insecure, I must be myself, respect my youth” either underneath or on the other side.

Well I got it on my ribs and it hurt so bad but in that satisfying way like when I used to hurt myself. I started thinking back to when it was really bad. One time I slammed my arm so hard against the metal banister… it left this huge bruise that hurt so bad. But it hurt so good. Pain that I’ve inflicted on myself has always felt so amazing. Isn’t that sick to say? Is it wrong? I know. But I don’t care. I do my best these days to stay away from harm that I myself can prevent. I don’t slam myself around, I don’t do much like that anymore. I slipped up a few weeks ago. I’m fine.

I’m getting fat though. And I hate it. Everyone makes fun of me for eating too much but I am constantly starving and i don’t know what to do. I’ve been trying to eat less but that makes me hungrier and then I end up eating so much to make up for it and I feel like a fat piece of shit.

In my mind I am one person and to everyone on the outside I seem like someone completely different. Who am I to you? the snob? The know it all? goody two shoes? You don’t know me. So fuck off. There’s a tattoo. FUCK OFF right on my forehead.

I miss things. I miss lisa frank. I miss sticker collections. I miss everything and nothing at all. I miss having a girlfriend. There;s so much I’ve yet to do that I want to and time keeps swooping away. I barely know you but I want you.

it's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring....
except he's not. my aunt and her son and her dog are here, and it seems as if my family is now 20 people in one house and i don't like it. i like quiet, i like peace. i like being alone and not feeling lonely. i wish i had my own home where i could thrive. i want to grow flowers on the windowsill and stack my books by color. there would be a cabinet in the kitchen devoted to tea and honey. my fridge would be full of fruits and veggies and water.
i'd light candles on days like this- rainy sundays because when i have my own home, i'll hopefully soon after have a job where i'm off on weekends. and i'll wake up early and clean the house and wash my clothes and bedding, and shower, just so i can get into a clean bed with my clean body and clean pj's and read a book or two. i'd paint my bedroom red, and the living room cerulean. the kitchen would be tiffany blue, and the dining area would be purple. i don't even have to close my eyes and i just see my sanctuary in front of me so close i could touch it if i could just reach a litttttle farther.

what;s your safe space like?

well, i must have been seriously ill
because i was going to text you and say what?
say i miss you?
say you should forgive me?
what did i even do that i need to be forgiven for?
i did what i always do.
i ran away.
i know i made the right decision, but it still bothers me.
i wish i could be the one to tame these men like wild horses, but is it right to pin people down like butterflies and spread out their wings in a frame, a cruel punishment for something that will never fly again.
but- who am i kidding?
you aren't a wild horse, or a butterfly.
you're a pig.
wait- not a pig. pigs are intelligent as a 3 year old human child. we can train them to do math and video games. and they roll in the mud because it CLEANS them. so why do we call men who have wronged us pigs?

so  went outside and had a cigarette
shoot me, i know my friends will.
i would shoot myself if i saw me standing there,
but these days i want to feel nothing more than anything.
all i feel is pain and fear. i feel like nothing is possible.
my body isn't mine, there is nothing i can control.
money is evil and it makes me sad because everything i want and need requires it.
how did i get on the subject of money?

everything we did together was confusing.
cuddling on the couch watching movies.
you told me to open my soul to you,
i shut the door on your foot.
that night where you tried to kiss me and i actually pushed you away.
i think now of that night going differently.
i often think of me being different.
going after what i want and what i need.
driving a fucking car.
finding a better job.

she is what i loathe and want to be simultaneously.
so fuck it.
fuck me.

the people i once knew became strangers. i wish you were an album i could reach for any time, listen and still remember your words. or at least your melody. you are everything i want to be but never could be. because you have something in you that i don't. some sort of drive or passion that i am always chasing. you have impeccable style, you have gorgeous hair. your skin is the color of very light coffee and your tattoo is just like you... an understated beauty.

now i know someone who reminds me of you and i wonder if she and i will ever become friends. but so many things hold me back. i don't and can't regret who i was but there needs to be a big change in who i am. it's time that i face my anxieties head on. it's time that i focus on making myself happy and not anyone else. it's time to do all of the things i've been too chicken shit to do. and it's time to stop getting angry. every day, i'm angry. i hate my body, i hate myself, i hate so many people and things and thats sad. i can only love from afar- people i don't know, things i don't have. i appreciate what i have until i see what he has or she has and i wish i had that.

im just not confident in myself. i don't think i am good enough for anyone or anything. and i hate it. i hate that my anxiety has driven me to make choices that i wish i didn't make. it has made my life 10x harder and no one gets it. the worst is even my best friends don't really pay attention when i try to tell them how depressed/anxious/fucked up i am because i am so good at hiding it that it seems like i am exaggerating when i talk about it. well, i'm not. its debilitating. and while you sit there telling me you understand, well you don't. you really really fucking don't.

winter fell down on my head and landed with a soft thud
snow in my hair and icicles on my lashes forming
with me, i was born to enjoy the cold the frigid
it always snowed on my birthdays and no one could come to my party
so i'd cry if i want to, cry if i want to

life was never so golden as in the fall
the leaves took me with them in their dance
i fell into the piles and stared at the sky for hours
there is no more fall
the earth is sleeping again

summer took me into its arms and the smell of
chlorine always intoxicated me, i was high
off of life, the first time i got high it was summer
and i liked it. graduation parties, pool parties,
everyone is so cool in the summer but no one
called me. so i sat in my house and read

the book of spring is the book of love
don't you fall in love every spring when the cherry blossoms
pepper your driveways in pink and the trees wake up
teenagers, new again, dreams, cotton candy
it's all in the spring

you would cry too, if it happened to you.

so cold i can see my breath floating in front of my face, no gravity to hold it down, like my heart when i see your face interspersed with hers intermingled with his interlinked with yours again. so cold i can feel the arms of death wrap around me again, i am so tired i feel like i might die, i have never been so tired in my life as these past few weeks. but it's good, i need to be busy to keep from being sad.
you can tell where i'm at by the amount of harry potter i've been ingesting. when i binge on these movies and books, you know i am lonely. its a kind of loneliness i never asked for, but got used to. everyone hated me, i was alone. everyone thought i was weird. i craved that letter to hogwarts. i craved a dumbledore to show me the way. he never came.
as the years went on i learned that i am my only friend, the only one who can guard my secrets. and i have some terrible secrets. i have become so secretive, so shady, the only person who i feel i can tell most things to besides myself is Emily. i know i can trust her, i know she's meant to be my best friend. how else do you explain the fact that we want the same tattoos and shirts and books and movies? it goes much deeper than that. i would give any organ to this girl any day. she saves me from being lonely.

*to clarify, i don't make synonyms of 'alone' and 'lonely'. being alone is fine, in fact i like being alone. lonely is bad bad bad, and it feels like you have no heart. just an empty cavity.