not exactly what I expected, and i'm not sure it's finished yet.

Now that the leaves still find themselves confined to this place
confined to the place we no longer find ourselves
the leaves still travel up the heavy hill we no longer tread
they climb up the streets with the neon paint we remember trekking
heavy breathed, pink cheeked; we'd both smile and pretend it was easy
our getaway, i thought no one else could ever know
what the clocktower looked like upside down
while laying on the paved ground
the cross hung between the both of us
we prayed together, eyes closed, we meant it.
on a clear night, i never got a single mosquito bite, i never was so aware
as i am now.
the leaves settle themselves, where ours no longer tread
your arms around my waist, you were so drunk you couldn't even speak straight
and i let you drive, i let you touch me even as i clung to another's empty heart
i let you touch me with arms so wanting, so needing and i
needing nothing more than the assurance that i was assuredly wanted
still, we watched the band play from above and it wasn't even dark outside
you and i and all of those people we used to be apart of
although much more you than i, you still drove that red truck then and i still look for that when i'm in town
i forget you've got a new car now
the leaves still dance around in circles were our feet once were
where the cat trapst out of nowhere and we played with her idly
smoke curling lazily around our heads, our arms, our separated bodies
ashes ticked off our treasure map, we passed your grandparents, your aunts, your drunk uncle who told you to never let me go...



this was our hometown, you and i and all the others we used to be a part of
and the leaves still settle where we once drank, once sat by the fire, once nearly fell in the lake
they settle themselves outside the places

sunday mornings, i would wake you up and we would lay
arm in arm, nothing more than morning-breathed kisses, stale smoke and freshly popped altoids
and the music, the sleep, the television
the way you'd move your fingers up, and up, and down the thick strings of your bass guitars
it was all wrapped in your smell, your attention, your details and familiarity; it should've been all i ever needed

"Namesake" - Anais Mitchell

you are what you're obsessed with, not what's obsessed with you

I'm teetering
always teetering
between reality and real
the whirl of the pencil in machine, between the grind
skin whittled away, smell of overworked, overused metal on granite
smell of rubber burning underneath my feet, they're motioning
eyes wondering, I stab them into each and every person that walks through the see-through door
I want to know each and every one of you
you do not seem to care about me,
you do not care
and that's why I wanted to leave
So many that love me,
I am loved
If you close your eyes while it's whirling you'll fancy to one side or the other
you'll falter, if you close them long enough you'll fall.

I've never closed them long enough to fall, not even that one time when I was drugged.
There could be twentysomething surrounding me and I'd still pound forward
eyes on nothing, eyes on the motion pictures in front of me
I'm in love with the idea of knowing someone
of finding someone out there, in the middle of themselves, completely consumed in what
they want
who they like, the clothes they wear, the music they listen to, what they eat and how they eat it
whether or not they like to put their hair behind their ears
whether or not they even know who "The Shins" are
something more than just Garden State, maybe.
Even though I want that movie, I want to watch it, try and feel something
I used to want it to become a part of me, I used to want it to be me
used to
When every single picture, every single thing slides you from one emotion to the next
what do you do?
Do you keep on breathing
When voices are saturated, movements so precise
how can you not want it?
How can you not want that kind of exactness, the beautiful way
life is controlled by the actions of others
we want to know, we've fed on the relationships, the pictures, the words and memories and interests
activities of others
staring into an emptied box of wires
images, pixels, centimeters
smudge, burn, sharpen
We Only Always ever See what We Want.
never going for what we might find interesting, we all stifle that which interests us
we forget our "what ifs", we stick to the bare minimums
nudity found sickening, they all want us to find our other
to spit out the epitome of all life
from inside (outside) grow up (get old(own it)) movements
we make what we want, we are who we can fall asleep at night inside, who we silently accept as okay, for now


but when is now no longer just okay
when will you be the one who people stare at for hours
whose activities, interests, relationships, whose face and skin these people want to live in
when will I be who you want me to be
a girl
a pray-er
self assured
a soccer star
sororitized
a dancer
an ambassador
your smile

when I stop whirling, maybe then it will all settle down
will I be there, within all the wood chips
will you find me

this is what happens

love
i would like to really know it...would admirably respect it
humbly
i respect those things that I feel inside
i hold them close and endure
i ignore
i take what little i'm given, imeasureable, incompatible as it is with
my own
i love
until i feel nothing.
because it is
who i am

and it's never enough
i'm scared because, it is not enough


when will it ever be?
does it take until your late 20s, and then, suddenly
will this all make sense?

all the pains
all the ignorance
all the wrongs, spurts of rights, but mostly
wrongs
do they all mesh into a sudden forward sweep of rightness

or is it
rather suddenly, or do we forget,
the innocence we once had?
the rush, is it replaced?  with a general acceptance

do we all just learn to settle?

My entire life i've been outspoken
i've been the muscular "beast" who never felt comfortable in a dress.

I've never felt comfortable.
and if you know me, if you really know "me," i remember you
i could ramble off a list of innately minute things that would bring nothing but silence...my memory is unnerving.
I remember the smell of the first boy I ever kissed,
I remember his smile and his laughter and the maroon t-shirt I had of his forever,
I remember that he mixed scents to make it his own...I remember those days
when they mattered, and it was easy--ier. It just was.
I've felt
things others don't even want
or need
I've felt not
because I've chosen not to feel, that which would make me
just like everyone else.
I stand apart, by my limitations....but they are choosen, not a crutch,
they are wanted, not needed, they are me.

And I am love
and no one I know....
no one I know understands what I feel, but I fall asleep at night
and I listen
and when I lie on the beach
or when I laugh just because
or when i'm with my family

I feel it
differently than i want
differently than i once was


and i wait. i wait despite the fact that i don't want to wait for
IT
but I wait.

whether you like it or not
whether you understand it or not (which you probably and more than likely don't)
i love you
and i remember, so much that it hurts my heart
so much that my head, it aches
so much
i remember your smell, your skin, your tastes, your likes, and passions, and
i remember you.

grey, always, but not necessarily in a bad way or place

Oh how things can change here in milledgeville...in a matter of days.
Days here last for weeks I swear to you.

My life is nothing like what I had pre-planned, but I believe that to be a good thing. I'm not necessarily making informed, grown up decisions...but they are thought out, growing up ones...and that's good enough for me.

Sometimes i'm smitten, sometimes i'm annoyed, often times (especially lately) i'm inspired...i've laughed more in the past 3-4 days then I have in a good while...i'm working out every day, and it feels good.

It's almost fall. I cannot wait.
Everything's grey. It's smeared and smudged and the lines are all blurred. But it's an understandable and congruent kind of blurry...a blurry I can mesh and kink out...a grey with no certain future, but a pleasant present.
It's called being young, and I've never really allowed myself to live it,
let's see how long this lasts.

i'm ready

"Save a place for me
Save a space for me
in your heart

Cause if you wait
I will come for you
If you wait"

If you wait in the silence long enough...if you can not pay attention to the stillness, if you don't let it bother you and you just...wait. Something beautiful will come of it.

I'd forgotten how amazing hidden tracks could be...and i'm exhausted.

"I'm Ready + Save a Place for Me" - Tracy Chapman

the difference

the difference between you and i is,
that even when i lay in bed at night, even if i shed a tear, it is not in vain
the words i feel, the emotions i evoke...they are real, untainted, and full
they are full of life and reality and truth...whereas yours are meshed
meshed in drugs and selfish sex and lies...
lies to those you once loved "so true"
those you once sang a song or two to
lies
and though you may not mind
though you may sleep at ease at night because you've got a warm whisper laying by your side
though you may, if you're one of the lucky, never realize the damage you've done
we all feel it

we all feel

even when you feel nothing, when you feel no pain
no evidence
no guilt
no horror
no reality
no love

we feel.
and that
is the difference.
so sleep well at their side
sleep comforted in the arms of someone else, and someone else, and another
another again
and when that fleeting memory, if ever, causes you to stir
causes you to question, if ever, your soul
less ness
(which i seriously doubt will ever occur)
but realize
life is so much easier
then the drugs you pump into your plumped self
life is lean
and quick
and painless
and joyful
and hope...something you know very little of

i feel sorry for those who are intitled to care
for you
because it's almost hopeless, a necessity of such magnitude.
get a life, leave me alone, forever....and ever amen
thank you ben folds
music...have you forgotten how much that meant to me? or did you ever care for more than a passionless touch from you...later on that is.

and Jesus loves me...that's the one thing
even now
right

now
i have yet

to forget
haven't completely grasped yet, all of it,
and i know i never will
but at least
i can escape into the reality

of something truly real
where as you

what of it?
drugs, and selfish sex, and

lies.

i will not reserve the right
for you
of being, or ever becoming
"my sweetest downfallen"
so smile on, glazed eyes, matted hair, blackened undereyes...
you lose in the end..and i could care, but why evoke those emotions
into one who feels nothing
or little
but drugs, and selfish sex
and sex
and lies.

i choose love my dear, and i don't miss you, like i said

don't call me when you're drunk, just leave me alone.

Tha Bears.

Your gonna take my bottle, my bible, my mess
Your gonna take all of my empty and my loneliness
Gonna take all of that sadness inside of me
Gonna take it all and set me free.
- Amos Lee

I love Amos Lee and the days when music just makes my toes tap and when i'm in my car it makes me tap the part of the car right outside of my open window and I don't even care that people are tailing me so close because i'm driving 5 miles under the speed limit. All because I'm groovin' to Big Head Todd & the Monsters "Boom Boom." I'll do what I want because it's my last two days of summer and because I am about to move into my yearlong permanent residence...in Milledgeville, and i've got mixed feelings about that.
I've got mixed feelings about everything these days, except myself and my singledom...I just plain love that. :)

I wish humans hibernated like bears...think of how much more refreshed and rejuvenated the entire world would be...aside from the fact that prior to all this sleeping we would all get to gorge ourselves on lots of food. Now that's whose got it made...tha bears. 

 

Boom Boom.