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Showing posts from December, 2012
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I went on a date last night and then you texted and asked, again, whether I would come there. Start our days with coffee, end with you making dinner. Forever. I feel myself tug towards yes and then I remember why it will always be no with you and I. There are people in your life who are going to love you for all of the wrong reasons. They will love you for the best part of your face, the best part of you naked, the best mood on your best day, the best story you ever wrote, the best outfit you ever wore. They are going to miss the scar on the underside of your nose from the time your older brothers dared you to run across a pile of logs. They won’t know that you fell on a hidden nail just as you completed the challenge. They’ll miss the scar on your finger, too from the time you were seven and closed a swiss army knife on it. They won’t understand that these are two of only a handful of things you can remember about your childhood. They’ll notice that you have great tits…

Merry Christmas to all my beautiful and handsome and amazingly wonderful readers. I hope your day is awesome. I love you all.

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A person who is nice to you, but rude to the waiter, is not a nice person.

I don' know why the person I used to be still matters to me, but the thing is, we all carry around broken bones and heavy skins; let us bare our drying lips that ache to be touched.

"In truth, you like the pain because you believe you deserve it."

I was the first to say the moon spoke words only I could hear
First to tell you how stardust wasn’t liquid decadence;
it was the stuff of cremated wishes, burning in the hollows of my joints
It was the- I want you to punch me, right here, between my elbow and my shoulder
I really wanted that kiss to bruise.

Darling pain is endurable, love is not. Hurt me, so I can feel that your there.
Love me for but a season, tell me you’ll love me for more.
Tell me the things the moon does not say.
Hide me in the braces of your spine, I want to entangle.

It was the I want you tell me blue eyed and broken,
missing and cemented with the ashes of cremated organs of men at war
that cinder-blocks weighed not one ton

It was the everything and nothing for miles and miles,
words muttered under the influence of the sky.
Wrapped up in the whispers of words no one wants to say,
the words neither of us could say
(the words i never did say)

And I guess words will always be words,
transcribed and translated,
a billion names to a …
the space in my lungs, the space just for you, i can feel it growing. 
i am no stranger to this; i am coming to the conclusion that i always had this space for you.
Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.9
Don't worry
I won't forget you
I'll always remember youI'll remember you when it rains
and
when I go to bedI'll remember you when my favourite song plays on the radio
and
when the sub explodesI'll always remember you
As long as I am aliveBecause I think you're the only thing that's true
and
true things are beautiful
and
beautiful things are life.Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.9

On the subject of finding yourself:

You have not lost yourself because you don’t know which toothpaste to use in the morning or if you like your coffee black or would you like to drill teeth and do you believe in God?
Which shoes will you wear in the morning can you be nicer to your mother do you fake illness to skip lessons.

You have not lost yourself because you’ve woken up on a dark night in a dark bed covered in sweat and skin you don’t recognise and teeth marks that aren’t your own. It’s okay to feel lonely or stranded as long as you have boots to run in.
Sure, for a second you’re trembling and the backs of your knees don’t feel like the ones you’ve always known or the ones your father kissed but mostly you have to forget to remember who you are if you’re anything at all.
Not everyone is, I know I’m not.
And don’t forget that you can’t ever just be one thing you’re not a tablespoon or a pot of sugar there’s nothing so delightfully simple about you and that’s the best thing of all.
It’s where all the p…

Remember. Remember

Lungs can be punctured by stingrays.Socks are an efficient and disturbing abomination.Jellyfish exist in hordes.And so do stars.And sand.And birds.And insects.And people.And breaths. Beautiful, beautiful breaths.Breathing should be treated as an art form. Each inhalation, a signature from the respiratory system itself.When having sex, do not think. Feel. Express. Moan. Fuck voraciously, make love tenderly.Trees have their entire lives mapped out within their torsoes just as we have ours mapped along our palms.When praying, do not be greedy. Whisper each word like it is your very first whisper, for it is.Ramen is and always will be cheap.Mornings look better on rooftops or at the edge of something very tall.Evenings look better beneath the silhouette of a forest, a crowd of stars shining for your gaze.“I love you” is a very simple and complex phrase. Be careful with it.Hearts are made out of everything.But they are not indestructible.Hands and bodies are to be held, gently and with nee…

the stars are taking over the skies. tonight it's a full moon.

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distance isn't a problem.

It's not what I'm afraid of. I am scared of god knows how to explain it.
Fuck this shit.Will be on hiatus for a week.Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.9
I've been so fucking unstable.
Hiding it like a professional magician.
Burying it six feet deep inside me.
Layers upon layers of sand and soil and emotions.
But nothing stays hidden forever.
And for that, I am afraid.Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.9

people you can't shake off.

You realize along the way, that one person has played such a monumental part of shaping who you are, that you don't know how to be yourself without them being them. What happens to spring when the leaves fall in love with autumn?I've been searching everywhere for you. In the knots of the last strand of hope we had to hold on to, in the womb of your laughter as I watch it tumble down your lips from across a room that is more miles apart than memories that gore caught like sunlight in webs of your hair. You are always and never there. You realize that you can't be yourself without them being them. That the DNA doesn't flow right, that the nuts and bolts in your soul just don't fit.
And then you realize that even though you're the one who's been calling yourself a writer this whole time,  they are actually writing you. That no matter how badly you may want your name in the byline of your story, the pen will always be passed around to more hands than just your…
She was a fire eater once, but the inferno, they charred her insides / (she was so sure, once, or so she swore) / the cinders of the inevitable suicide of her Pompeii dreams rushing through her veins / but / no one was sorry; no one could afford insurance for the girl with less than half a heart.Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.9
You're acting as if someone ran away
With your love and
All you can
Do is lift up your
Skin and show off the bruises
Blooming
Across your ribs you got
From
Breaking the promises
You made
With yourself.Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.9

because it's my blog.

I am a cuddler I am a morning personI am an only child I am currently in my pyjamasI am currently pregnant I am left handed I am a little shy around the opposite gender at firstI bite my nails I can be paranoid at times I enjoy country music I enjoy smoothies I enjoy talking on the phone I have a car I have/had a hard time paying attention at schoolI have a hidden talent I have a petI have a tendency to fall for the “wrong” guy/girlI have all my grandparentsI have been to another countryI have been told that i have unusual sense of humourI have broken a boneI have caller I.D. on my phoneI have bathed someone I have changed a diaperI have changed a lot over the past year I have friends who have never seen my natural hair colour I have had major/minor surgeryI have killed another person I have had my hair cut within the last week I have mood swingsI have no idea what i want to do for the rest of my lifeI have rejected someone beforeI like the taste of blood I love Michael JacksonI love …
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Please don’t hurry to fall in love or fall into anything.
There’s plenty of time for all of that.

Until then, do more than exist.
Remind yourself on every occasion that you are still so young and that is a beautiful wonderful thing. Before you know it cynicism will come on wings and you will have to reshape yourself over and over.

Don’t wish for emotions.
Long for experiences, and hands that feel good in yours, and the cold bite of winter, darling you’ve got such a long while.
You’re not inadequate because you’re alone (not lonely, mind the difference), you’re not unattractive or boring or God forbid unlovable.
 Breathe a little bit easier.
Write yourself lists. Y
our hipbones right now, the places where you long to be touched, are too fragile for lust.
You’ll find yourself crushed under the weight of it all.
Even if we are to lose touch,
Even if our conversations were to cease,
I swear to you,
Even if the above happens,
My thoughts of you will not halt,
And out of the blue, I will
Reach for you.
I can only hope
The line on your end won’t
Be severed.
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secret.

(When we first started I wanted to say ‘please don’t make me regret the things I’ll feel for you’ and you did every time, but I still couldn’t stop myself from everything. It was like you happened to me and there was nothing I could do about it.)
I wear you, not like a second skin, but a first, with the heart propensity of someone who has shed their own layers to make room for yours.
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date a girl who writes.

She's hard to find cause she's the one standing in corners of room watching other people from a distance.
She's the one who search their faces and watches their body language.
She stands close enough that she can bear but far enough so she won't be seen.
She's a master at invisibility, and all the smart girls know she's the best at eavesdropping.
She knows who's in love with whom just by watching them.You'll be a lucky man if you find her.
She's the one with a journal in hand, a notebook in her purse, scrap paper in her car, and pencils in her back pocket.
She's always scribbling something,praying it won't evaporate before she gets it down to paper.
And because she's always scribbling, she's always looking down, and that's why you've never noticed her before.If you're lucky, you'll find her at a library or in a park or at a coffee shop or in an airport, drinking coffee and watching people or typing furiously at her la…

And I fell in love with

A boy who runs his fingers down my spine.
Who gives me two hoodies instead of one.

A boy who stares and kisses me inbetween movie scenes.
Who keeps quiet to listen to me sing.

A boy who's laughter echoes in my mind.
Who has moth-wings like eyelashes that I envy.

A boy who handles me as if I'm as fragile as your mom's favourite China.
Who holds me so tight as if he's afraid I might float away or evaporate into thin air.

A boy who's height I have to tip toe to reach. Who loves me more than he loves The Beatles.

A boy who reminds me he loves me everyday.
Who's back looks like it was cut out from a Nike ad.

 A boy who's love is so deep the ocean would be jealous.

And this is to you.

I fell for your thoughts,
the way that you said my name,
how you make me speechless.

I aches to be inside your mind,
hear the whisper of every thought,
get lost in your deepest desires.

I want you lying down next to me,
caressing the soft curves of my face,
running your fingers down my back.

I feel for you.
I ache for you.
I want you.
i told you
i should spend my time shooting targets
instead of reaching for the stars;
buy a handgun and watch the targets shred,
little ribbons of snow falling to the ground.
you told me
if you’re not reaching for the stars
you might as well be six feet under.
i didn’t have the heart to tell you that,
inside, i was already six feet under
and i was holding my breath for nothing
because target ranges are closer to home.
i didn’t have the heart to tell you that
the burning of stars in palms reminded me too much
of the way wishes burn when they don’t come true.
and i’ve already been burned too many times.
(i don’t want boys
who smile like sin anymore.)
the
thought of you makes me want to vomit (out
everything i never did say). i am
too young to say i am too old to be running away,
especially since running away from myself was never
an option, another artery
twisted.
too old to say i am too young to be this reckless,
the aorta filled, and i am too scared to run into
myself
again
as much as i want to
run into
you. (and the left ventricle heaves -
and a voice dances beneath my bones, screaming -
screaming six months )