The Real Me

The real me, 

I'm living my life the best I can.

Sometimes I'm happy.

Sometimes I'm the smart ass.

Sometimes I'm overwhelmed.

Sometimes I'm angry.

Sometimes I'm upset.

Sometimes I'm flustered.

Sometimes I'm not the smile I front.

No reason to worry about my past.

No reason to worry about my future.

It is the here and now.

And when I'm down and out I write. 

To bear the light in my soul so bright,

I got to keep it strong.

When I get burnt I need ice,

And this is my device

It heals.

Its my window into a world that as I will it, I make it.

In my fantasy, it is the love I need.

Its healing powers are beyond the greatest divinity.

I wish I was better at telling the world how I feel.

I must use complicated similes and things that don't make sense.

It is my angel whisper in the night.

I don't make it so public, my thoughts to myself.

It is the stars held above my head so high.

It is to keep me alive.

Beautiful Chaos

I can never portray my thoughts exactly how I want to. 

I Remember

I remember when I saw you for the first time.
I remember how you made me feel.
I remember the ripped blue jeans you wore the first, and second time we met.
I remember the words you first spoke to me.
I remember the last words you spoke to me.
I remember how when we held hands, you refused to hold still.
I remember how your breathe felt on my skin.
I remember how much I missed you when you left.
I remember not wanting to feel that kind of pain ever again.
I remember now, to never remember you again.

The Great Gatsby

“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.” 
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

“I hope she'll be a fool -- that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.” 
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

“And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.” 
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

“He smiled understandingly-much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced--or seemed to face--the whole eternal world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself, and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey.” 
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

“There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy and the tired.” 
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

How to Cope with Annoying People:

Step 1: Wait for them to say something annoying.

Step 2:

•  Look at them with a disgusted look on your face.
• Make fun of them directly, tell them how annoying they are.
• Literally just stare at them.
• Punch them squarely in their annoying face.

Step 3: Resume your life. Stay beautiful.

Conversations with a Stranger

“I wish I could live the rest of my life forgetting,” she told him, distractedly braiding her hair as she gazed out the plane’s tiny square window.

“Forgetting what?” He asked after a pause, turning his head to look at the pretty girl beside him; she had been relatively quiet for the first few hours of their flight. 

She sighed. “Forgetting what it felt like to live.”

Not knowing how to respond to this, he went back to his magazine, pretending to solve a completed Suduku puzzle. He could feel her stare on him.

“What’s your name?” She asked him a moment later.

“Julian.”

“Julian, have you ever  been in love?”

It was a strange question for a stranger to ask, but he answered as honestly as he could. “No. I don’t think so.”

Bored, she turned back to her window. “I have.”

“Oh?” He responded, not quite ready for their conversation to end.

“Yes.” The girl replied, and then fell silent again.

With You

Yesterday is gone.
Sometimes I wish
time would linger
on my breath, on my skin.

Sometimes I wish
time would slow,
pull backwards with me,
keep me still.

Time would slow
if tomorrow didn’t speak with tongue
twisted, words of interest
sporadically thrust into dandelion seed.

Tomorrow speaks too much.
Tell me a chamomile story,
turn off the light and leave on the lamp,
the lava lamp 
Let the light illuminate me from 
my head to the bend of my
knees, 
while I bury myself deeper into my
mattress, release myself
to the lullaby of loose linen.

Keep me quiet.
Keep me calm.
Keep me still.

BLACKOUT

Downfall

Where did we go wrong?

As If The Shame Of It Would Out Live Him.

"Chances"

Chances- The Strokes

                                                                     

I waited for ya
I waited on ya
But now I don't

You didn't see it
I didn't see it
I didn't see it
But now, oh, I do

I play your game
I play your game
Now
I play your game
I play your game

I take my chances alone
Get on your horse and be gone
I will not wait up for you anymore
So you can ask me if something is wrong
Will you go?
I don't know anymore

When the night isn't ready for you
It's a feeling I know that dogs you
They invited a stewardess, too
Now they want you to see it
Here's to days he decides he's got time
And he claims that it's not a surprise
When he finds out the truth's on his side

I take my chances alone
Get on your horse and be gone
I will not wait up for you anymore
So you can ask me if something is wrong
Will you go?
I don't know anymore
I don't believe anyone
As they crawl out of my way

Waiting for the night
Leaving night by night
You can see me travel
We could be in trouble every night
We're having a new life

6 words; a memoir

Sometimes the rain just doesn’t end.

This is how much I care.

A text sent, yet nothing received.

Dreaming of wonderlands, walking to wastelands.

Figuring myself out, not there yet. 

Always look forward, never look back.

The best things happen by accident.

And so she said, “please stay.”

Her wishes fell like shooting stars.

Can't live without my morning coffee. 

“You’re the first, you’re the last.”

Did you know you are intoxicating?

fairytales

the taste in my throat

is not flowery like I wish

it were

swallow tears, and drink

them like tea, they’re good

for you

but my tongue is scathed

and sore, my throat even

more so

there’s a thunderstorm

in the near distance—

this thunderstorm is the

soundtrack to my sappy

sad, story

I don’t like thunderstorms

and the way they

interrupt my thoughts

my attempt at peace

peace is a myth

peace is out of reach

but I am wishing for it anyway

(One Line)

wait night to come and 

expect stars to shine 

only street lamps illuminate

sky, bright and polluted 

yellow light melts 

in inky firmament

brown as your long hair

but you never corrupt 

as stars dim tonight

a hot summer night

it kills me and 

I cannot breath 

reminding your pant

and whisper that already 

penetrates my aching soul

I wheeled with the stars, 

my heart broke loose on the wind*

forever young

or at least that's how it felt 

in that indefinite moment

*Poetry by Pablo Neruda