rii
10/08/08, 02:49 PM
One.
"you smell like cigarettes and life decisions." shutup, I thought. my eyes sunk down to our hands that were intertwined in a situation that he had nothing to do with. I was right in the middle.
I ignored everything against my own will. I was held captive by my on conscious while I was "blissfully ignorant".
I conversed with the enemy and I liked it.
I took the time to break down everything that capsized me into little portions of who I wanted to be, how I wanted to breathe, and how I wanted to be seen.
it wasn't at all comforting, and it was not efficient.
it was an accident, a stumbled upon complex;
created by my own head.
"you're fucked, you know." he commented rather loudly.
"shut up." this time I said out loud. "everything will be fine."
I probably didn't sound convincing.
I know I didn't want to.
with him, it didn't make a difference.
"I know." he said quietly in that tone that sounds like he's apologizing.
"anyway, then I told him--" and I babbled and paraphrased about what I'd done, and of course, the result.
my least favorite factor.
I burned things down, and had a wonderful time watching them disintegrate;
page by page, piece by piece, enjoying the dancing flame and the warm heat.
but that didn't eliminate the burnscars.
by the end of the day my hands were third degree.
my thoughts were never collected.
they see-sawed in my head like silly second graders, they ran and jumped and hoped for very good things to come in sleep.
they either knew exactly what they wanted or they were completely indecisive.
this is how my life's spent;
thoughts unparalleled and bent.
Two.
"brzzzzzzzzzz."
I paced the small bathroom, brushing my teeth before bed.
I sang and looked down.
down at dirty socks, empty shampoo bottles, and the grimy floor.
"what filthy human beings we are." I chuckled to myself with toothpaste foam running out of my mouth.
still pacing. 'my electric toothbrush needs to be charged..' I thought to myself.
"you got this." I said to myself in the mirror right before I spat and rinsed.
for the next thirty seconds I stared at the ceiling and thought about cadence and seeing beauty and in things you didn't know existed.
somewhere in the next seventy-two minutes that I was awake, my head was concocting useless assessments about sleeping alone and how much I h8 it.
"what a long year.." I told my superhero that stared straight at me from the ceiling with a determined, angered face.
The BIG leagues.
Robin, The Boy Wonder. He hung right above where my head laid on my pillow.
I called it motivation.
'if you can't do what you want, why do anything at all?'
my head threw this question right into the mainstream line of my thoughts.
'love.' I answered.
love.
the four letter word that had brought on all my 15 YR OLD GURL hormonesbullshit.
'love': the reason why my heart isn't as loud as my second grade thoughts in my head.
it was dark.
I'm afraid of the dark.
I thought about casual conversation and went to sleep.
Three.
nothing. I've got nothing today.
not for any reason, really.
it's not like I lost EVERYTHING.
almost should seem close enough to me.
quiz today. aced. I've been upbeat all week.
but not today, I'm afraid.
today I'm a a breathing being. a non-living nothing.
I digress and wish. that's it.
I wish I'd been right.
I prayed before your flight,
for your safety, and for our silent love to stay solemn.
"you said you loved me, more than anyone else could ever know."
I never showed it enough, the love thing, I never gave you what you needed,
but I was so sincere.
I meant every word I muttered into your pounding chest right before I slept.
I believe in intensity.
I believe in you and me.
but as of late we lack stability.
all the integers in the world can't measure up to what I feel.
the love and the misery, it's all a part of you and me, and everything.
I didn't do this on purpose, mind you.
but it happened, none the less.
"when does the bell ring?" some girls shouted.
"9:48" about three people, including me, responded.
almost done.
"you kinda look like pete wentz today." brother bear told me this morning.
I stole his shirt and hid it under my hoodie, and mountains of smug.
he wouldn't wake up at seven.
I lack the capability to try and make someone want to wake up to this world and be productive and do shit.
let alone take me to school.
brother bear taught me to be clever, like him.
just better.
I slept through my alarm a whole minute.
what good sleep I slept while listening to small talk and sunshine.
the ink stopped, but my head kept writing.
bell.
kind of a short story series thing I'm working on.
three is a bit iffy, I know.
I'd really appreciates some comments/critiques.
"you smell like cigarettes and life decisions." shutup, I thought. my eyes sunk down to our hands that were intertwined in a situation that he had nothing to do with. I was right in the middle.
I ignored everything against my own will. I was held captive by my on conscious while I was "blissfully ignorant".
I conversed with the enemy and I liked it.
I took the time to break down everything that capsized me into little portions of who I wanted to be, how I wanted to breathe, and how I wanted to be seen.
it wasn't at all comforting, and it was not efficient.
it was an accident, a stumbled upon complex;
created by my own head.
"you're fucked, you know." he commented rather loudly.
"shut up." this time I said out loud. "everything will be fine."
I probably didn't sound convincing.
I know I didn't want to.
with him, it didn't make a difference.
"I know." he said quietly in that tone that sounds like he's apologizing.
"anyway, then I told him--" and I babbled and paraphrased about what I'd done, and of course, the result.
my least favorite factor.
I burned things down, and had a wonderful time watching them disintegrate;
page by page, piece by piece, enjoying the dancing flame and the warm heat.
but that didn't eliminate the burnscars.
by the end of the day my hands were third degree.
my thoughts were never collected.
they see-sawed in my head like silly second graders, they ran and jumped and hoped for very good things to come in sleep.
they either knew exactly what they wanted or they were completely indecisive.
this is how my life's spent;
thoughts unparalleled and bent.
Two.
"brzzzzzzzzzz."
I paced the small bathroom, brushing my teeth before bed.
I sang and looked down.
down at dirty socks, empty shampoo bottles, and the grimy floor.
"what filthy human beings we are." I chuckled to myself with toothpaste foam running out of my mouth.
still pacing. 'my electric toothbrush needs to be charged..' I thought to myself.
"you got this." I said to myself in the mirror right before I spat and rinsed.
for the next thirty seconds I stared at the ceiling and thought about cadence and seeing beauty and in things you didn't know existed.
somewhere in the next seventy-two minutes that I was awake, my head was concocting useless assessments about sleeping alone and how much I h8 it.
"what a long year.." I told my superhero that stared straight at me from the ceiling with a determined, angered face.
The BIG leagues.
Robin, The Boy Wonder. He hung right above where my head laid on my pillow.
I called it motivation.
'if you can't do what you want, why do anything at all?'
my head threw this question right into the mainstream line of my thoughts.
'love.' I answered.
love.
the four letter word that had brought on all my 15 YR OLD GURL hormonesbullshit.
'love': the reason why my heart isn't as loud as my second grade thoughts in my head.
it was dark.
I'm afraid of the dark.
I thought about casual conversation and went to sleep.
Three.
nothing. I've got nothing today.
not for any reason, really.
it's not like I lost EVERYTHING.
almost should seem close enough to me.
quiz today. aced. I've been upbeat all week.
but not today, I'm afraid.
today I'm a a breathing being. a non-living nothing.
I digress and wish. that's it.
I wish I'd been right.
I prayed before your flight,
for your safety, and for our silent love to stay solemn.
"you said you loved me, more than anyone else could ever know."
I never showed it enough, the love thing, I never gave you what you needed,
but I was so sincere.
I meant every word I muttered into your pounding chest right before I slept.
I believe in intensity.
I believe in you and me.
but as of late we lack stability.
all the integers in the world can't measure up to what I feel.
the love and the misery, it's all a part of you and me, and everything.
I didn't do this on purpose, mind you.
but it happened, none the less.
"when does the bell ring?" some girls shouted.
"9:48" about three people, including me, responded.
almost done.
"you kinda look like pete wentz today." brother bear told me this morning.
I stole his shirt and hid it under my hoodie, and mountains of smug.
he wouldn't wake up at seven.
I lack the capability to try and make someone want to wake up to this world and be productive and do shit.
let alone take me to school.
brother bear taught me to be clever, like him.
just better.
I slept through my alarm a whole minute.
what good sleep I slept while listening to small talk and sunshine.
the ink stopped, but my head kept writing.
bell.
kind of a short story series thing I'm working on.
three is a bit iffy, I know.
I'd really appreciates some comments/critiques.