"the air smelled like crusted blood and sweat…" - Carrie Jones (Need)
Monday, May 9, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
running
I don't know what I want,
but I want to get away.
I don't know where I'm going,
but I've lost the urge to stay.
Open your arms and I'll come,
carry me far from here.
Let's make a new path,
without malice or fear.
but I want to get away.
I don't know where I'm going,
but I've lost the urge to stay.
Open your arms and I'll come,
carry me far from here.
Let's make a new path,
without malice or fear.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
When did I become such a philosopher?
Does it mean more because we put so much thought into it, or do we put so much thought to it because it has such deep meaning?
(and btw not gonna answer the subject question)
(and btw not gonna answer the subject question)
deeper
so many times i thought i was ready, hoped you would make that move. but we weren't really there, and that sort of loss of self control would have led to a much deeper chasm...
word of the day: introspective
Why so introspective today?
What sparks these feelings and ideas?
When will I stop thinking about what might have been?
When will I accept who I am?
What sparks these feelings and ideas?
When will I stop thinking about what might have been?
When will I accept who I am?
Rememberies
My memories fade. Mixed with images too often told to be true, recited as a story from a book. Yet the characters are real and the situations plausible.
I have to dredge up images of people and places I thought I may never forget. To seek down the events in the recesses of my mind. Moments of a few months overshadowed and replaced by the me I've become through them. These memories seen through the scope of a camera, almost as though they belong to someone else. But some memories, both old and new are as real as the times themselves. What does this say?
I no longer wake up feeling as though I am wrapped in your arms. But the feeling is still true in the light of day.
I have to dredge up images of people and places I thought I may never forget. To seek down the events in the recesses of my mind. Moments of a few months overshadowed and replaced by the me I've become through them. These memories seen through the scope of a camera, almost as though they belong to someone else. But some memories, both old and new are as real as the times themselves. What does this say?
I no longer wake up feeling as though I am wrapped in your arms. But the feeling is still true in the light of day.
mountains and molehills
Why do you feel so strongly about such immediate things? such improbable things?
Why am I at such a loss, to understand who I truly am? How much of me is really me, and how much depends on my company?
How do I begin to show my true self around people who have known me for so long and have never seen those parts? What would possess me to keep parts of myself undisclosed?
What is wrong that I am afraid to be myself? Do I even know who that is?
Why am I at such a loss, to understand who I truly am? How much of me is really me, and how much depends on my company?
How do I begin to show my true self around people who have known me for so long and have never seen those parts? What would possess me to keep parts of myself undisclosed?
What is wrong that I am afraid to be myself? Do I even know who that is?
atmospheric pressure
sometimes all it takes is some silence, a little peace and quiet. to get the thoughts and creative energy flowing.
raw and exposed
Some people didn’t know for days, weeks even.
My own roommates had to drag it out of me practically. They didn’t realize just how much I could hold it in, and yet not really.
I saw so many people that night who had no clue.
I still want to take you there, you’d appreciate the view.
I haven’t stepped foot in the forest since that Spring. Not for lack of wanting, at least that’s what I tell myself. Life changes and other people get in the way.
If you realized how much I gave you of my time. How many things I set aside to be with you. That was probably the loudest of my exclamations.
My own roommates had to drag it out of me practically. They didn’t realize just how much I could hold it in, and yet not really.
I saw so many people that night who had no clue.
I still want to take you there, you’d appreciate the view.
I haven’t stepped foot in the forest since that Spring. Not for lack of wanting, at least that’s what I tell myself. Life changes and other people get in the way.
If you realized how much I gave you of my time. How many things I set aside to be with you. That was probably the loudest of my exclamations.
pondering loss
If only you knew how much you knew. Or at least how much I tried to share. I’m not such an open book. I don’t tell much, so what I do say is important. Sometimes I wonder where we’d be , if you had really listened. If I had been able to express myself…
How do people learn how to understand one another, learn to communicate?
We tried, and failed miserably. We are so different, and yet…
My bad habits, our lack of communication.
If it were right, we would have figured it out, wouldn’t we have?
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DRAFT
The promise of snow,
A twinkle of stars.
What would I give to be,
Snuggled there in your arms.
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little things
It’s little things,
A dark red car,
Of similar make.
A plaid shirt.
A rainy day,
Especially a stormy one.
Your favorite color.
And yet, I know that our decision was the right one. It’s just hard, to have been that close, and lose it all.
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