Quiet

Have you ever looked at picture and you knew that the person in it had just talked to you-that you were still a fresh memory in their mind?
And you smile because you're just so happy that you were part of their life for even a minute, or a second, because it's one second closer to them than you are now.
Then slowly sadness creeps in, the silent predator, and claws at your expression. He sees that you're still not the same, and he smiles because he knows that you'll always wonder when you'll forget. He'll reverberate in your steps and bounce off the walls that you took photographs of. He'll hide in your frames, awaiting the day you wake him up again with a flip of a page, or a click of a mouse. He'll taunt you for having nothing to show for it. He'll claw at your smile. And you'll think you deserve it, for allowing it to be a moment instead of a future.

You hush him with your inhibitions, but he claws at your smile.

"My head is spinning like that carousel"

I don't believe in light anymore
only the morning of my waking eyes
I don't believe in summer anymore
Only the trace of grass in the air you breathe
I don't believe in trust anymore
only the sound of war drums
that is my heart.
and it's much less steady than it seems.



"And it's Dark in the winter so your ideas start to sleep...
Well your head is spinning like that carousel,
And I know you're a mess after 3 or 4.
But if you make it different then we'll make our way to the surface,
And your favorite place.
Where we sit, and we breathe.
Because I know all the words and I sing you everything.
Well they're just thoughts so go ahead and speak."

Sleep in your eyes

Insomnia is for people
who stay awake
to wait for an answer
they just can't find.

Valentine

My Darling,
you are a song.
Roadtrips
the feeling I get in a corny song or movie
you make me want to write love poetry
the first thought
the calm before the storm
and after
a mystery
the rainfall
the sunlight that ends it
you are the I'll-help-any-day-or-night-if-you-ask-me-to-best friend
You are paint
Windows down
sword fights
laughter
the tears that come after
Christmas lights up all year around
superpowers
You are foreign food
You are Iceland
Ireland
Europe
The sound of a piano key
You are Sleeper 1972 and Tornado
Pupils dialating, are you nervous yet?
The idea (concept) of fire
You are red.
The sound of a carousel
Impressionist paintings
sunflower fields
looking for my earring through the leaves
You are climbing trees
swingsets
sunsets
You are parking garage roofs
Fireworkds
I'll remember this night
The body so close but untouchable
You are super smash brothers
Soul Caliber
I'll-kick-your-butt-every-time
orange-Listerine-mouth-wash-
safe-in-a-fort
boy that I love.


This world we live in, it is a beautiful and terrifying place, and I am happy I found you in it. But no matter what happens, where you go, or who you're with, I'm sure your life will always be more beautiful than terrifying. And, if you find yourself afraid to take a step or a decision, remember how I think of you. Even if I'm not around anymore. Everything will be okay in the end.

Happy Valentines Day.

If you didn't guess already, I love you.

February 02, 2011, 1:57 AM

Dear Friend, I'm so sorry to be burdening you with this. It's just that it's late, and I have things to say. I know that no one else but you understands. I know that it's been late for you, and you've had things to say. I know that like you, I don't speak fluently, and I hide behind elegant wording, and inevitable grammar. I will say this as bluntly as I can.

Confession 1:
I am sad. I don't know why I'm sad, but I am.

Confession 2:
Even though I am sad, I don't remember the last time I have cried.
Confession 3:
I would love to be able to call someone at 1:35 and have them eagerly listen. I don't remember the last time I was listened to, or cheered up. I don't know what it feels like to be cheered up.
Confession 4:
I wish I fell asleep first.
Confession 5:
I hate physical beauty, it drives people mad, but I love being called beautiful.
Confession 6:
I never feel the compliment deep enough.
Confession 7:
I can never be completely honest to people I love. I don't want them to feel stuck in my life because I need them. Confession 8:

I do. I need them.
Confession 9:
I don't believe in words. When I get scared, when words aren't enough, I get tempted to leave and start over.
Confession 10:
I miss the days when the windows were rolled down, with the boy who smiled, and waking up next to him.
Confession 11:
I haven't felt warm since.
Confession 12:

We didn't take enough pictures.

Friend, I just wish someone was awake. But no one is, and I don't know if anyone has felt the way one feels when they have something to say, and they need someone to hear. I don't know if anyone covers themselves with words, and if I am the only one who can't sleep anymore. I don't know if anyone else needs to be cheered up right now and would love to be called, or checked up on. I wonder if anyone else is sad and they don't know why, even if they have every reason to be happy. I wonder if anyone else misses summer and thinks about running away. I don't know if anyone else is sad and they don't know why.
Friend, I don't trust any of them but you.

Keep these secrets safe.

They are me.

Keep me safe.