two-fifty an hour.let me save you the trouble:because what i'm trying to say isi'm not a good person.--i don’t tell valerie about how i planned to rekindlemy friendship with charlie’s best friend last yearjust so i could get to him and hurt him.(i don’t tell her how, in the end, i ended up likinghis friend instead, and charlie dated anotherfifteen year oldbecause shit happens and what was i doing,expecting things to go my way?)there are certain things she doesn’t need to know,certain things i can’t say becauseputting it into words what it was like waking up,that sort of shame that came with it –it was like – it was like looking into a windowand swearing there’s a monster behind itbefore, slowly, i realizedit was a mirror.--what therapy promises me: love yourself, forgive butnever forget, tell us your pastthen let it go.what i learn in therapy: nobody has all the answers.we certainly don’t.-
I wanted to say yes.I wanted to say yes.I wanted to take your hand in mine and like a couple of idiots, run through the heavy traffic and pouring rain, and keep at it till our feet resign.We'd find a tree with branches wide enough with leaves broad or plentiful enough to take shelter under, and there, you'd place your head on my lap as I'd sing you my favorite love song. The song I'd always wanted you to sing to me.If only I hadn't found out the hard way that your feelings for me are but as thin as an onion's skin and that I could never accept and bow down to no matter how suave your courting style may be. If only I was stupider than what I really am- maybe then I would have reciprocated to your efforts all my yearning I've kept sealed tightly, maybe then we might have had a chance.When I told you to make things clear and to stop teetering between the fringes of my hopes and dreams and the cruel loneliness that awaits, my blood was already thinning and I was gagging from my silent yet continually flow
Lost LoveShe was precious as a flowerThat had come close to a frost,Like a bird flying in the wrong directionThat would never admit to being lost.She was beautiful as a butterfly’s wingJust catching at the air,And she’d find her way into your heartBefore you even knew that she was there.She was tantalizing as a summer breezeAnd delicate as lace.She’d go wherever the wind took her,And would be gone without a trace.
she can't keep secrets, i can't keep friendsthe first time I see her in months,she still hugs me like i’m the only thingkeeping her world up.i remember a time when this was true.we do not talk about anything we used to—those things have become taboo,almost while our heads were turned away.subjects are now landmines, with us tiptoeing around them,me in my beat up converse and her in her sky-high stilettos.we do not talk about how she did not say goodbye.we do not talk about her old-new-old-old-gone boyfriend.we don’t mention any new holes in my heartor any new episodes of a now cancelled television show.we do not talk about the new kid who looks like herand we don’t talk about the school of new kids she looks at every morning.i do not tell her that i have written seventeen poems about herbecause she does not understand my way of letting go.i do not tell her that it is close to Octoberand i have stopped marking off days on my calendarand today i haven’t eaten any foodbut i doubt sh
Truth is.I never got over a certain person.I shielded myself.I lied, I admit. A lot. To certain people.I loved her.And I missed my chance.I tried getting over her.And it didn't work.I felt she was too good.But she was waiting.She waited for a year.And I fucked up.She's moved on.And I can't feel anything.I was bawling, then stopped suddenly.I never thought it was possible to feel your heart almost literally break.Until today.I missed my chance.I missed.My chance.
on becoming alivethank god for sleeping pillsand the man who gave me a bagto quiet my mind.thank god for boys with open handsand curious minds and naïve heartswho make me young becausegod, you birthed me oldthank godyou birthed me old,so I could be the one tomeasure the livelihood of starswhile the others madetheir childhood wishescome true.thank god I have a mindthat runs a million miles fasterthan I ever could, becauseI believe my heart is an hourglassof honey and grime, andI’m slowly running out oftime, and I fearthese days are numbered.thank god for peoplewho write the words bleeding in my heartwithout knowing I exist, thank godfor beauty and my understandingthat I only exist in relation to itand in appreciation of whatI can’t become.thank god for my rebirthbecause I spent all thoseeye-opening years of my lifesleeping behind the wheel, thank godsomeone was there to wakeme up. (thank god that I canweep for happiness and depressionin the same day,
Will you be my home?Will you be my homeMy gentle security?Will you lift me awayWith the caress of your armsWarm me whollyWith the slighest brushOf your lips?Will you be my shelterEven from my own tears?Will you let me take you for grantedLet me wrap you around meAnd rock me to my dreams?Will you hide me awayBe the place of my safetyBe my happinessSheilded from a world of sadness,Will you be my home,My gentle securitySilently filling my life with love?