Beginnings

"Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know." -Hemingway

"I care for myself.  The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself." -Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre

"Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in he way we expect." -Dumbledore, Harry Potter

"We can meet again somewhere, somewhere far away from here." -Harry Styles, Sign of the Times

"Everywhere I see bliss, from which I alone am irrevocably excluded." -Frankenstein, Mary Shelley


"We can meet again somewhere, somewhere far away from here"
                                                      -Sign of the Times, Harry Styles

wilted bloom

if i could only see the sky, the way you see it
maybe my eyes could open gently in the morning
maybe i could breathe the air and it wouldn't feel
so heavy.
maybe i could float like you

cause you glaze and you gloss,
you shimmer and you sparkle
everyone knows that you sparkle--
i drown in glitter everyday,
to be maybe half deserving of you

hell, i'd drown in that pink milky bath. drink that water
to feel the butterfly against my chest
and swim among the flowers. i swear i'd stop
my crying.
so i will wake up for you, if i cannot with you

Endings

Before I breed more misery
Before I echo a similar sentiment
Before I gaze back at you
Before I interfere with you and her
Before I hint of what I did
Before I mourn the loss of him

I sneak in past twilight, and hold back any tears
we're asleep is what we tell them.
I wonder if my imprint is ever felt the next day--
Before I interfere with you and her

Do it! Places

grey, not just the color but an overall feeling of grey, smog, heavy air, living in a bubble, voices, screams, yells, every name and profanity in the book, bruises, in more places than one, from more person than one, wincing, cringing, crying, a cloud above you head, a mood that lasts all day

list/mess of rhetorical figures as per usual
-34 miles makes such a difference
-is my town now brighter?
-is there smog in places that are not LA
-memories only half repressed
-broken fences and cars in yards
-no escape emotionally, at any hour of the day
-piles of clothes
-piles of bottles
-no end in sight, or so i thought
-then again does it ever really end?
-or just another type of sadness

Reason 1537 I relate to no one

Bleakness and mediocrity,
somehow I knew then.
People settling and feeling
things I could not

Smog filled the air. It filled my mind-
my heart, my soul
every fiber of my then confused being.
no end in sight

Piles of clothes and piles of bottles,
empty because why not?
I tried to keep it together,
as if cleaning brought cleansing

Hallways of screams,
words I never knew,
memories and scars created
as if they ever knew.

Bruises can fade
though we know where they came.
from here and from there
from you and him and from her.

Broken fences now are only from snow.
And lives seem brighter,
is everything whiter?
is everything repressed, from 34 miles away