I should be inspired
I'm so happy that I can't even begin to find the words
I should put feelings down on paper and tell you how happy I am
but I can't find the words
I can't find the inspiration
Why don't I have that ability?
I can always say what I feel
I can tell you what I feel and make you understand it
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
It feels like a different time
It feels like a smoother flight
It feels like the shoes in my closet are a few sizes smaller
It feels like I could fall asleep with my head in my mother's lap
It feels like I still had a princess bed
It feels like I had no concept of financial stability
It feels like I still had a bin of Barbies in my room
It feels like I would play handball everyday at lunch
It feels like there was a different voice on the message machine
It feels like a much longer dream
It feels like taffy was sweeter
It feels wrong
It feels lost
It feels empty
It isn't true.
It feels like a smoother flight
It feels like the shoes in my closet are a few sizes smaller
It feels like I could fall asleep with my head in my mother's lap
It feels like I still had a princess bed
It feels like I had no concept of financial stability
It feels like I still had a bin of Barbies in my room
It feels like I would play handball everyday at lunch
It feels like there was a different voice on the message machine
It feels like a much longer dream
It feels like taffy was sweeter
It feels wrong
It feels lost
It feels empty
It isn't true.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
something in your heart goes cold
your chest becomes open, bare, sterile.
long beeps are heard over soft whispers of
scalpel
bandages
monitor
your eyes become broken lamps
that flicker a once-wonderful message
of hope, happiness, love.
there are few things that make your hand twitch
little white lines marring your flesh
there are few things that make your stomach itch
release with simultaneous withdrawal
and some clean bandages to wrap it all up
your chest becomes open, bare, sterile.
long beeps are heard over soft whispers of
scalpel
bandages
monitor
your eyes become broken lamps
that flicker a once-wonderful message
of hope, happiness, love.
there are few things that make your hand twitch
little white lines marring your flesh
there are few things that make your stomach itch
release with simultaneous withdrawal
and some clean bandages to wrap it all up
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Friday, March 11, 2011
i want to put on my grey sweater
pour a cup of coffee and sit at the table
and stare out at the day with a content yet deep look at the world
i want to know what i'm going to do
who i'm going to see
where i'm going to go
how it's all going to end up
i want to see the cream swirling in my mug and smile at it
i want to feel your warm arms as they hug me from behind
a warm smile forming on your face
your soft eyes looking down at me with kindness
i want to curl my knees to my chest and lovingly watch you make me breakfast
and jokingly mock your technique
i want to know how it's all going to turn out
pour a cup of coffee and sit at the table
and stare out at the day with a content yet deep look at the world
i want to know what i'm going to do
who i'm going to see
where i'm going to go
how it's all going to end up
i want to see the cream swirling in my mug and smile at it
i want to feel your warm arms as they hug me from behind
a warm smile forming on your face
your soft eyes looking down at me with kindness
i want to curl my knees to my chest and lovingly watch you make me breakfast
and jokingly mock your technique
i want to know how it's all going to turn out
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