I just want to scream

I think we complete each other,
souls made of the same organic element-
that fit with mirroring shapes. Are we both of sky? or I earth and you wind. Sex and Love.
We both have trouble with intimacy. But the emotional side comes naturally to you and the physical embrace comes naturally to me. Maybe we can teach each other. 
I understand your fear, just as you understand mine.
we have needs, physical and emotional.
You want to feel me from the inside, but as soon as its time to take the plunge
you retreat. feel guilty for leading me on, for not following through and depriving yourself.
Past experiences defining what it means to love or fuck, what happens when people venture into eachother.
Its not that you arnt attracted to me and Im sorry I asked if you were gay.
I didnt make the connection. and It makes sense that in the coin of love-
one of us would feel okay about one side but not the other.
My downfall is the most crucial, I have one small hand reaching up
hoping you grab mine. to be in love what a feeling I can only imagine.
Like you imagining how it would feel to have me completely yours,
hugging you wet and sweetly. To be loved by you would
be my hearts climax but the fears! You tell yourself to be brave but you dont know what to do.
There are expectations. How to love, how to fuck. You worry your technique wont be good enough. I worry that my vulnerable outstretched hand of affection wont compare to the girls you've loved before me. You dont realize that as long as its with you its the best sex of my life. and I dont realize that as long as its with me, I can be a fool and my love is all you need. The problem IS self love, ultimately.  There are parts about myself I dont love and refuse to show anyone. The companionship, the dancing of souls requires complete surrender. barfing up every unsightly hidden thing about yourself till your both staring into a grotesque pile of puke and laughing about it. I know everything happens when its supposed to. But Im wondering why you've come into my life so early. Something so beautiful. You a lifted, silk winged butterfly who carries the sunshine in your smile beckons me to fly before my time. Am I ready, am I doubting myself to much? If I try to fly will I fall and batter my chances of flying agian? Is it worth the risk, can you wait for me to muster the courage to try.

o.O

Are other peoples minds calm?

blanket of love

Its like im coming down all the time
and your my favorite blanket.
Underneath and I get too warm,
But crave your familiarity and softness.
Sweating and rolling in circles I cant fight it any longer.
Take the covers off and your cast on the floor cuz I cant keep a stable temperature.
Then Im freezing, and chills run through my spine.
Im erratic. The moon frightens me and shadows jump from behind bookshelves,
I need you again, the warmth at first is so calming. Dusting you off I never
want you off of me. but again I sweat. Think how better suited you'd
folded across the bed of someone who can sleep soundly and keeps you clean.
Remembering the times when I slept that way. Reluctant to give you away
Your my only chance at warmth but on the floor you lay

fuck

music is a blessing

I hope this isnt the end :(

Id rather hurt, than have him hurt.
But in just being who i am it feels out of my control.
Being untrue to myself would be missleading,
Being true to myself leads into chaos.
If I was misstaken for someone with emotional maturity I appologive for
misrepresenting myself. I shouldnt have made myself seem ready for love
when Im so very far from it. And he is made of love.

mission sabotage is in motion.
How can invisible feelings feel like unbreakable shackles?

To end this

And of course Im head over heals for him,

He is the epidemy of anything Ive ever admired in someone.
I feel like a monster besides his radiance his selflessness and eagerness to please.
He deserves an angel of grace not deceit. But arnt we all human,
Harboring our infantile needs and first pounding tantrums.
Looking back I'll wish I hadnt made things so painfuly difficult.
Just relaxed and take love for what its worth and return it. let myself be happy,
But I wouldn't be this way if it felt like a choice.
I think I'll always be more or less alone.
Ive become accustomed to him seeing my vulnerable side,
Its my ugly side Im trying to shield him from.
The one with the broken heart is never at fault.
So Im learning. What im doing is rotting my heart from the inside out,
where as he might feel some mild bruising.
there is no pain like inflicting pain,
on someone you love.
maybe this is a manifestation of self loathing.
I have an addiction to hurting myself.

my fatal flaw

All Ive wanted, was to be loved fully,
Had my flaws accepted and overlooked.
But its making me angry, its making me scared.
The things I dislike in myself I cannot fathom
Why he could tolerate them, love them as a part of me.
Makes me squirm and itch. want to retreat.
I cant handle loving and not being loved back,
But neither can I handle loving and being loved back in return.
Its involuntary, so I'm letting it run its course.
nothing is ever ideal, no person is perfect...
and emotions run high no matter how good someone is at hiding it.
We are all the same massive ball  of tears,
Sad baby's laughing because we think somethings supposed to be funny.
holding onto that brief moment of unity,
when everyone in the room is making the same sound.

Jesse
Taylor
Alex
Doug
Ben
Skyler
Angelo
Steve
David
Louise
Clayton
Alex
Jeremy
Damon

yadayadayadaaa

If I make things to complicated, am I sabotoging happiness or revealing parts of myself that are going to surface later anyways.. If anything I think weve both learned something. Both on this crucial hunt for love. Someone who gets us, accepts our flaws.  But found out that we wernt ready. You, for whatever reason. fear probubly. old wounds.  And me, for to many reasons to list. My main draw back aside from the obvious fear of hurt, rejection, vulnerability ect. Is feeling uncomfortable BEING loved.  and that intense emotion can bring out the worste in people. I always mean well, but to protect myself I can be prone to hurting others. being insensitive, and at the slightest hint of rejection from the otherperson I can spiral into insecurity and guard myself so deffensivly. When we had plans to hang out and rent a movie, and you didnt call or come home till 1am I was hurt. thought you were trying to send the message that you didnt want to spend time with me. I felt dissregarded. Felt an enevidable heartbreak coming so I was passive agressive in not saying how I felt and told you I thought you should leave. I think if Im suited for anyone romanticly its you, because you knew how to coax me out of my anxiety, my anger and was patient enough to hear me out. Im reluctant though because that isnt fair to you. You deserve someone who treats you better, and I make things more complicated than whats enjoyable to deal with. I am an incredibly loving, devoted, smart, funny, adventurous person but love unleashes my demons. And even when things are good, the stress of losing the person I care for is enough to drain me.  Everyone deals with this shit, but it consumes me. I make this mistake everytime. And see the parelel between how I respond to love, and the way Ive seen my mom deal with all her relationships. the abuse, and manipulation ive hated, but internalized. Need to unlearn. Self doubt holds me back, undervalueing myself and putting others on a pedestal.  Things Ive known for a year now, but have struggled to change. Invulenatrily relying on anyone who gives me the warm fuzzy feelings then having my world crash down when they dont meet me insane expectations and constant reassurance. But being in healthy relationship is something I need to work on because I crave companionship. I can be happy alone, but lonely Im sure. I want to get married someday, die with someone whos a part of my soul. but I dont want it to be miserable, hate fueled, and bitter. Ending up with someone like my moms boyfriend who treats me like shit but who I stay with because dissfunction is all I know. How to love yourself, and love others healthily? Do I go thru the motions with Jeremy, not acting on my insecurities, and remaining somewhat distant. 

I was going to write something meaningful,
but im so hungry, id rather go home and eat something.

roll down a grassy hill,


with me in the summertime fun,

shinning on our leather boots.

hold my chin in your palm,

and see the fear in my eyes.

to fall in love. to be a bee

who misstook you for a flower.

change the inferno of my cheecks,

to a blazing sun that warms your own.

i dont want to be this way forever,

to want but never have.

a day in the sun with you because i am

crying sometimes and the self cut scars

on my arms dont lie cookie cut chunks of a lost soul

Im a mess

but im human and i want you.

if youll have me.

if your okay with scilence,

and can see beauty in how hard i try

to be loved by you. its a sickness like

retrived tummy juices

you turn to me and i see only love.

i see your smile in the feilds of green.

I see your mouth on the tips of trees,

and i love the feet inside your boots.

My muse, their will be others.

but for now, if we cannot speak..

take off my clothes and pretend you feel the same,

and for a second your embrase can ease the pain of sepratness.

I dont know why bad things happen

Its probubly the only time I believe in god,
My trust in fate is defied- by lifes outpour of evil.
My mother deserves nothing but the very best.
She is the one and only good person in my life,
and some force out there is trying to take her from me.
trying to rob her of all the beauty that should come to her.
After the doctor expained the results she called Adam...
I cant be mad at her. She doesnt want to be alone,
especially if the promise of life is fleeting,
but I wish she had time to meet someone worth her time.
someone to cuddle with, and love who treated her well.
who was as deserving of the extrodinary love she supplies,
and could return it healthily. I want to be angry, to say fuck god.
fuck whatever is inflicting this upon us at a time that is already so hard.
We are getting evicted, my mom is tierd down with court,
and her dosing of methadone. Emotional trama from her ex boyfriend.
I am struggling, unable to provide for us and worn down from months
of one cold realisation after the other. It doesnt seem fair,
and challenges my belief that everything happens for a reason.
I refuse to believe that there is any good reason my mom should be put through this.
I have met deserving people, I have met people who should have the life sucked from them.
I want my mom with me always, knitting and laughing, with companionship, in nature.

honestly

Next time I see you,
and your eye brows are raised,
and you talk to fast and your body moves when you laugh...


Its going to take tremendous effort not to attack your face

Its been a journey of lovesick theives,
and clamy pale boneless skin,
gripping baggies, and slowly rolling,
a glass tube from side to side. inhale...
Now Release. Head flung back, a blank stare,
pulse questionabe. are we dead?
is it over? no, still beating and still high.
He turns to me and smiles, I melt...
like the chemical death he sucks, passes to me.
Their is no pause, no natural shyness.
Their would be, had we met in another life.
Had we been children in a sandbox, or
souls with a better start on life. Our eyes would dart in and out of one anothers.
Like staring into a mirror, we would be one. I see you seeing me see you. forever.
The kiss that never came, remains imagined on my lips.
all I tasted that night was smoke. all he would remeber,
is the smell of splattered blood. It could have been my blood.
My throat slit, a rope unravelling from my wrists, and alarmingly smooth puddle-
a terrible red almost black. I am spilling onto the floor.
This is what happends when you fall for tweekers.
This is what happends when some one almost dies,
when someone forgets that you loved them.
When you only want good things,
and cant stop seeing his name everywhere.
But nothing ever changes.
Stay, and you'll die.

I am refusing to write poems about him.



To program my neurons into a pattern-


a name, a face, a proton of hope,


Until my excited little brain cells are firing madly,


Like fireworks. Cheering for joy, Triggering


a surge of hormones into my wiring-


an inevitable malfunction. Fizzling, and bubbling


Fatal alergic reatcion to my better judgment.


Nameless, Faceless, Genderless friend-


You are forbiden to play havok in my brain space,


Sneek your way in and you will be anialated like a virus.










I never realised-


without a male as my muse,


I am 100% dry and out of inspiration.


how could this be, always considered myself such a thoughtful


and interesting person. come to find out,


I am shallow and cliche. hmmm. learn something new everyday.










I dont want to complain. I dont want to write myself to tears.


I long to inspire, and write about the good,


Craddle my compassion, and eat sour patch kids.


Let them get stuck in my teeth, grow plump without shame.


Stop using big words, tell my story-


but it doesnt have to be sad. Reek with regret.


With my writting I want to explore.


And Coldplay 'Green Eyes' three days ago,


could bring me to quiet convulsing sobs.


but listening to it now it feels okay.


Meloncholy, and slow but a wonderful thing.


"honey I could never go on without you"


There are many who glow inside...


I will never be one who feels close to people.


It doesnt come naturally to me, I thrive inside my head-


In my own company, with my own agenda.


I harbor my demons, but learning step by step how to overcome them.


There is nothing in my life that conveys success.


I have failed, dropped out of school, abused those that did not deserve it.


But I prevail. I will always fucking prevail. Regardless of anyone-


Societies standards of cool and normal, and stariotypical.


I know what feels right, where my feet chose to be planted into the ground.


This journey will be at times, friendless, seemingly hopeless,


speckled with rejection- like freckles on the back fat of a fallen star.


"Blue eyes, Blue eyes, I could never go on without you"


Life kicks my ass, but Im still throwing punches.


I can beat this insanity, tame the cruel world around me,


Let go of lovers, I can hold myself. assure that blue eyes stay dry.




WAJIKRLJFLEJFTRL:DJGO:JT:GLJ


ERRRRGGGG!!!!!!








You never break charecter- But you arnt nearly creative enough to deepen the plot.






Sit with pain. sit with hurt. sit with rejection. sit with the feeling of being unloved.


This is normal. it can be overcome,

Life has freah cookies for you in the oven-
and their gunna be DANKKKK. unlike the burnt, shit youve been eatting.
Life must have used splenda on that last batch..

There is to much to know how to say.
Should I start with my birth? There have been many.


Home. Studio. Mindy. Adam. Clutter. Smells lived in. (because honestly they never leave.)
Books that are not read. tv always on. bad cabel reception. Pained laughter.
Boiled Carrots. Unflushed toilet. Collection of Cds.
Records. Patti Smith on the wall. Nervous rats. Begging for foor.
Stacks of boxes. Hard to navigate. Hot wheez in packaging.
Dead lighters. Books of matches. empty cigarette cases.
Cell phone chargers. Full coffee pot. endless supply of creamer.
Mother, the voice of a child. Adam, the voice of an enemy.
Emily- the voice of tried indifference. She checks her phone.
She confids to her space. With headphones. escapes in words.
Cant turn the music up loud enough, to tune out agrivating speach.
Flush out the frustration, her nostrils flare, tries to explain why everything feels wrong.
Seeking comfort in rutine. in solitude. and her encounters with the outside world.
Reading "Everything here is the best thing ever" by Justin Taylor.
Scince the last trip to the food bank- she eats a whole grapefruit at 2am like clockwork.
Her empty sketch book, pens with no ink. A black backpack her grandmother bought,
before she dropped out of school. She thinks she might be happier enrolled at the college.
Even highschool, but staying in Lynnwood. the insanity of her mother.
Makes emily shudder. clastrophobic, the fear of being stuck. becoming the lunitics that surround her.
They should all just cry, together forever. But no one can cry. the three of us are in a miserable drought.
I am to strong for tears. My mother overcome by denial. perhaps Adam is oblivious to his need.
He says he is content around chaos, so he must feel right at home.
Emily is learning to be the same way. the knowlage that she must be strong,
forces her to be strong. Everyday is a struggle, and satisfies the need for survival.
a rodent is always in fear for its life, clinging to scraps of food-
its promise of another day. spent searching. This is what I am.
Always on gaurd, with set plans to prove that I am still living.
I bumb cigarettes from everyone I encounter.
I light one always before speaking.
I ask for more bus money than I need.
I go to raves, and I flirt to remind myself I am wanted.
I have no other obligations, but put life or death importance on these things-
Obtain something to smoke, and money. becuase money is freedome.
my momentary ticket away from Lynnwood.
RAVE
because I need the release.

A place to be free. Anonomously "Peaches".
To converse with people who have little clothing and bright fuzzy things to hold.

A back massage. lightshow. a feeding of pills.

gift of colorful plastic beads to remember them by.

Although their name already forgoten.

To feel the neon lights, be rumbled by Dubstep and beats.

To catch a glimpse of Luvr.. my safety person.

Exchange digits with those who ask. some who dont.

Enjoy the ride home, and anticipation for the following weekend.This is my life. Probubly the life of many.Fragmented. Pessimistic. Holding onto stability digused as something else.

and thats the way it goes..

I dont think he understands,
That I cannot wait. I met a boy yesterday,
who is quiet, smart, dark haired, with a quirky and cynical humor.
He is tall, and mature. Very no bullshit, delicate with his words, and showing affection.
Incredibly sexy. escpecially his laugh.

When I left the rave, he texted me his concern and told me to get home safe.
Found a missed call from him on my phone when I woke up.

This makes me sad. I should be happy to have found someone who shows potential.
Someone worthwhile, that I truely felt a connection with. In sync on many levels.
But I wish It could be steve. Coming to terms with the fact, that what we have now-
Is as much as we will ever be. If things fall through with Even-
he turns out to be a duche, whatever.
I will find someone else who doesnt take me for granted.
Sees my worth, and wants all of me.
Then whatever steve and I have, will shrink down to friendship.
No more kisses. No more snuggles. A brief hug, a smile, and maybe some mild jelousy- on my part.

Dry Sex at 3am

My pupils swell, My spine errect.
Where are you? far from inside.

forgeting emotions,  funny love poems..
and my tendency to stare at your hands-

There is no denying a deep and unstoppable need.
You are someone to be had if nothing else.

over and over again. Im confident in my ability to destory you with pleasure.
I make an effort to stay intune to your needs, destracting as your mouth,
and the location of you palm may be. Noticing spots that make your stomach flex,
and pelvis arch, brings me imense enjoyment.

Fingers inching down with murderous intent. slowly. dangerously.

begging me to stop. whining from wanting so ferociously it aches.

How long to suck your tounge when it enters my mouth.
Panting just close enough to your neck to make the absense of my lips painful.
Like a cat in heat, these are anchient rituals of seduction.

"I want inside of you so badly" and his hands make it so,
large and wraped around my hips they are forceful.
I could be wet clay, he morphes me.

The feeling errupts in my stomach.
I could bite, but squeeze my legs shut.
When he gently touches my leg, stopping briefly inbetween-
and I look in his eyes, a smile, an exhostion, a readiness to please...
endless and unfathomable knowlage around the female anatomy.
Even without being touched a moan brews in me, For the disstress of not being touched.


The deep sacred peach juice, seeping from longing that could coat him so sweetly...
It feels right. natural. satisying. It feels like the perfection of fruit an lovers.
A friendly snake tempting the two into meaninglessness.

promise to the night

erritation

very cetian, in my sudden wanting to leave. I am so in love with a tiny part of him that is slipping further and further away. because he is incapable of loving me full heartedly he seems like a waste of time. if someone cannot appreciate all of me- they deserve nothing. I am an empress of perfection. I bleed understanding, willing to sacrifice anything for the boy I chose.  moving mountains simply by batting my lashes. Breathing sex, deeply intuitive, crying, and gasping. I am more than anyone could handle. I am overwhelming, a supplier of confusion and uncertinty. yet I bring clarity. calm cool collected clarity.franticly moving twards a realisation that can never be reached- I am everything!
So this is a love letter to myself insted of him. nothing more to be said.

the emotional asthetics-

The beauty in agony just isnt fair.
The rush and hightened sense of drama and dispair is an addiction.

To the beholder,

wear your lipstick red and dark and smuged.
forget your wearing it until you pass a mirror.
remeber who you are, the hidden shape of your mouth.
until weeping turns to laughter.

The boulder and the boy

Inertia is the resistance of any physical object to a change in its state of motion or rest.

Please dont try to push me with sweet words,
If you do not plan to run after me when I begin to roll.
If you sway me, pet me softly, coax me into surrender-
Like a giant stone of grey. stubbern and unwilling to love-

waiting inpatiently for a suiter strong enough to becon motion.
brave enough to risk being crushed. bone splintered, lungs collapsed.
under the wieght of my devotion. I resist most before I am about to break.

my fear of vulnerability.
my fear of motion.

my obsession with love.

The truth that LIES inside.

Clearly written in ink,
where the things I felt to be true.
The boundries. and mutual attraction.

Sometimes you say things, or hold this expression-
and I can see the geers turing, your stern understanding.
an intensity I find unbarable, and frighteningly sexy.

Water surges over words,
and they melt into confused stains.
a blue tyedye of lovers sky.

I squint, and try to see the letters inside the freash ocean.
Reread the things that seporate us. keep us apart.
keep me from falling in love.

I drowned myself in doubt.

devotion

There is no such relief as....

its like trying to keep myself from falling asleap. falling in general.
Maybe it has nothing to do with you- your habits, or personality, or looks.
Im just tierd, and the sound of your voice is reassuring.
I catch myself nodding off, entering a sweet dream.




Awake slowly to find you rambling on about yourself-
and I rub my eyes and pretend to have been listening.
I do not want to love you, because you do not love me.


I need someone as complicated, and engaging as myself.
somone who can sit with scilence. who is dark and warm, and sleepy.
Speaks sternly and thinks in poems. This is not matched by steve.


He is not my soul mate. Not my perfect fit.
So I struggle to keep my feelings calm.
from spilling around me. keeping love far far away.


And today blurred the lines. Anxiety shot through me-
Like a knife ripping through silk.


I think he could tell, we are intune with eachother.
can tell subtle differences in eachothers mood or responses.


He said something that made love sprout inside of me in every direction.
a painful yearning love. and I fucking paniced.
I tried to pull back, and stiffle my heart.


but anything said other than "I am falling terribly inlove with you"
was ingenuine and obviously a front.
I said things that were strangly defensive. my pause was to long.


I reacted like a threatened animal.


But this is my kind of love.
After a good night sleep I can force myself back into indifference.
I can convince myself I dont care. Stay patient, and flirtatious.
Lose this sense of urgency and fear.

hush hush

it is now noon. and I am sleepy.

this

It is 5 in the morning. After it hit 4:30, I decided Id be better off making instant coffee and getting an early start on Tuesday. The current state of my life is pleasant but bleak. I am in limbo, as always but my life seems to be moving somewhere. wherethere it be an illusion of the senses- or actual progress is beyond me. Like standing on sand when the tide is going back out. you feel like the ground is shifting below you. Well this coffee is shit. Its way to hot, flavorless, a pale milky color inside a glass jar. The great thing about my life is freedom. I can do whatever I please, I wake up in the late afternoon- attend to my ego, with make up, and clothes, usually to the pixies. check the mirror a few thousand times. Then leave the prison of my home. this studio appartment. Where adam frowns all the time, and my mother franticly eats carrots. all the time. They never leave, and have created an entire world in this tiny space. Even in the scilence you can feel enormous tension. Today was stupid. The world leaves me so dissatisfied. When I am not the person society wants me to be, its just dirty looks and scoffs. in a flannel smoking a cigarette beside a building- I get sympathetic glances from old ladies. Or  men.. Some people ignore me. Some stare. A giant field of comunication in four seconds of eye contact. I notice these things.  and feel so apart from the world. There must be people like me, blended into the crowd. But they are so hard to find, in piles of duchebags. piles and piles of duchebags. So ive decided to be my own best friend. I agree with myself about most things. I have good taste in music. sense of humor. I make the perfect best friend. just sometimes I forget im here. To others I am a person- to me I am a vessel for experiencing the things around me. and I think ALL the time. single sentance thoughts. every second a different sentance. An insecurity to combat. An anxiety. A dissaproval. A very brief aproval. A desprate search for a solution. Get a fucking job. and get a fucking appartment. and move the fuck out of here. Find a companion. some stability. My quest for love is impossible. but I know when it comes, it will be the right time. I just need to trust the universe, and the fact that so far everything has fallen into place. Nothing is perfect, but it isnt suposed to be. I look back on my time in portland. sleeping under a bridge. snorting coke on the bathroom floor. the glorious date rape. feeling so crushed, and lost I could have desinagrated into dust. It was sickening- but taught me so much. Im glad I was never happy, im glad I never fit in. because that isnt where I wantto be happy, and those arnt the people I want to fit in with. I am fortunate to be alive, and miraculously kept safe through all of it. These events bettered me, made me strong. Because in order to be strong you must first be weak. You fight, and kick, and scream your way back to the person your ment to be. I was born a seed. My enviornmet shapes the growth of my branches, but the will to survive was passed down from light, energy, matter. It is anchient. Keeping my mental health in good condition is most important. Setting boundries. unconditional self love. and activly impressing no one.

I am jelous of his joyous indifference.
He has chosen the raver lifestyle-
over a relationship with me.
But I cannot expect him to throw his life away.
a carefuly crafted caccoon spun to feed his ego.

However I do not wish to be taken for granted.