1/4/12

We talk about the parts that ache, that have ached, for so long. I remember who I thought I would become, who I was, who I am today- with you. I want to answer your questions, and respond to your thoughts. Even though my head spins with context, my mouth lacks sentences, and my lips fail to make sound. I look over to the drivers seat, through the tunnel of darkness pinned with street signs, and search for your eyes. Please tell me you understand this look. My body's desperate tactic for exception. I look for your eyes.
The universe writes no story. For the existence, there is only fate. With fate, there is surprise, karma, and luck. There is the beautifully unexpected. There is the energy between two souls. When you walked into my life, and each time you walk through my door, we begin to write the story. (A story filled with moments.)


For the past years of my life, I only spun webs. There was never a time when the truth was free and my feelings were spoken. I was reclusive, silent, heavy with my secrets. I could not look in the mirror and recognize myself. I ran to and from the shadows of everyday. But now, I feel closer than ever to being happy. I am able to accept who I am and where I have been. I am able to feel beautiful. I am able to seek the truth and the simplicity life so graciously gives.

4 a.m. friday night.

I get so weird. I get so caught up in my head. In my thoughts. In all my hopes and desires. My past haunts me. (But not like you think it does.) Even on nights like tonight, when nothing should be wrong - it is. It all is.

It started with that word. That damned four letter word. The one that has been caught in the back of my throat - surprisingly unfamiliar when it comes to you my dear. It now gags me.

I could vomit when I look into your eyes - I am so sick in love with you it scares the shit out of me. And it's such a real feeling. A good feeling, that everything will be alright (when i look into those eyes.) I crave for you to hold me and promise to never go. Promise I will be okay, and that it will always feel this way with you.

The uncertainty kills me. It slowly carves away at a once so hopeful heart.

I fear rejection. I fear loneliness. Most of all - I fear myself. This damned head of mine so caught up in you. I only hope you feel the same way.

And nights like tonight I could keep you up in conversation - drunk on wine and hours past exhaustion. Only then would we be able to tap into what is really wrong. Because nothing is. I just want I just need to tell you... I love you so very very much (to hear it echo back to my hollow aching heart.)

I feel like I make things up. I see my loved ones for their ideals; I see them and care for them and love them for all that they could so honestly be. (I would spend the rest of my time building and growing and fighting for all you are, and all you mean to me. I would do this, I know, because I love you. Deeply - crazy, intense, heart felt (most literally) love you.)

And it kills me not to tell you. To say it aloud. Not in order to confirm it, or even hear it back, but to set it free. To let it grow and breath, like good love does.

Hold me now, when I crawl back in bed, because honestly, I feel like crying. I feel like breaking down into a million little pieces. This is too much and I can't let it go. Because I want you to know... I love you. I love you. I love you. 

But I will wait, patiently. I will hold my breath, clench my jaw, and bite my tongue. Forgive me if the conversation leads to "I don't knows." I know nothing else. I want it to mean as much as it feels to me. I want it to hold weight when it finally crosses air. I want it to sink deep inside of you (like you have sunk into me.) I want it to be like never before. And as each day passes- it proves that it is. This is all so different than all the times before.

(from a friend)

You always question the love you get

Perfect, yet something you need to perfect

Your dreams are bright with colors you love most

In yellow hues of memories you hold close

Soon you will tire of your present host

You’ll wander again into visions of a ghost

- Abigail J. Ostwald

Books

It bothers me so much that these kids only want to read books that talk to them by pushing plastic buttons.

3/24

i wait for you
past the point of exhaustion
i shower and only shave my legs
i put on your shirt and brush my teeth
sobering up with water and a cigarette
i wait for you
you call at quarter to three
too drunk to call before when you said you would
too drunk to walk to my apartment
and sleep in my bed
and now i cant sleep
i am so angry.

no lies. just love.

i have been so dark
i have been haunted
i have taken pills to make me better
medication to make me smile
i have thought about running
i have thought about death
i have been to the shadows
corners of rooms no one has been
i have grasped at my wheel
i have grasped at my sheets
i have grasped at my sides
to keep my chest from caving in
i remember the bitter tears
i remember the empty aches
i remember broken mirrors
baring a face I dont recognize.

""

"I have always wanted to miss someone like this."
and then we held each other and let our bodies act natural.
we took our time filling in the tiny space these last few days created.
As we lay together my arms, my legs, my fingers and toes, cling to your skin. My heart reaches through my chest...
"You know how much you mean to me, right?"
and your sweet blue eyes were staring sincerely into mine.
we agreed to spend days apart to strengthen the beauty we've begun.
As we sit cross legged, almost nose to nose, I wish once more to spill my words out across the brief air between us...

(I not only love you in the candlelight, late at night; but in the morning when I kiss your sweet face and tangle myself up in you all over again. I love you as I get dressed and hurry myself to the little girls. I wish to kiss you a thousand times before I walk out that door. And when we are together, I love your company, your positive energy, and your unwavering opinion. I love you for your mistakes, your attempts, and your forgiveness. I love you for your beauty, your soul, your talent, and your humor. I love you for your past. I love you for the future.)

Death and Dying

When i die, wrap my body in canvas and paint it yellow. Let the ones i love (the very few) ignite the turpentine. As the color bleeds to the ground, let all that i was, and all the ways this world has affected me, burn too. Let the earth take me back and heal me like it always has. Please plant wild daisies on the place i last lay, and visit me often. You can tell me your secrets, your dreams, your triumphs, and troubles. I will always listen.

The hot water rolled down my back slowly as I arched forward to my knees. I held myself for a while; my toes gripping the bathtub floor. I waited for reality to sink in. I listened to the water accompany my shallow breaths. My oil stained hands clenched my knees. I remembered how to hold myself together. I remembered the raw loneliness in my chest. I remembered the dark insides of my mind. I remembered how the turpentine rolled down the canvas slowly, taking pieces of paint (thick outer skin) with it. The naked canvas glistened beneath. And now my body separated from my mind much the same, as the hot water rolled down my back slowly. I cursed my name.

My eyes will sting all day. My stomach will hollow out and ache. My head will pound pound pound. The blood in my body will beat through my veins. My thoughts stay low for the most part. And then someone will mention your name. Then my eyes begin to cry, and my stomach starts to reach for my throat, and my blood rushes to my head and pounds pounds pounds; louder than before.

I begged you not to turn on the light. But you did anyways.