fuck school

I want to party.
I want to go out every night to see bands play (even when they suck).
I want to spend the day sleeping beside you, tangled in your arms.
I want to get lost in this city with my friends.
I want to spend the holidays with my cat and roommate.
I want to read the books I choose on my own time.
I want to write words without caring about grammar or APA format.
I want to paint.
I want to get involved.

Fuck deadlines. Fuck being uninspired. Fuck someone else's rules.

I'm a righteous babe... I'll finish this semester,
but then I'm looking for explosions in the sky.

It's a long way home.

I can't believe the moment I let my walls fall, and I start to let myself love you,
you're heading the other way, with no words of explanation on your lips.

You can hurt someone without bruising them, baby.
I wish you weren't learning this from me.

Can anybody tell me why God won't speak to me?

Today I experienced every emotion. I quite possibly had one of the greatest nights of my life, but it's now dissolved by tears. My heart is sore. My heart is tired. My heart never had the chance to bloom...

(I had written this a while ago)

Music is still inspiring. Even now that I know it's process, how it's made. I've seen the backstage, it's factory.

And in these overwhelming oil-boom, global-warming, pointing-fingers-but-little-action-ever-taken times, I am happy to work in a run down bar with a sticky floor and a dirty stage.

I need to be reminded that I'm alive. We all need to turn up the stereo and remember.

It's summer. It's time for rock'n'roll feelings of freedom and possibilities and everything is going to work out and new friends and people being happy and sunrises after a night of whiskey & cigarettes.

I need to remember that I'm alive. I need to figure out how to write about this to preserve it for the winter, when I'm going to need it's warm life to live.

Funeral for a Friend.

I am a strong woman with little fears and paranoia, but you've managed to make me jump at every noise and feel completely unsafe in my own home.

I can't believe I don't know who you are anymore, or that you managed to change the entire energy of a room like the world's negativity was draining the light out of my heart.

I am ashamed of myself because I saw the signs of something, but I shrugged it off as the struggle of growing up, only to find myself face first with the monster of something much more tragic.

I hope you find the help you need and the answers you're looking for. Right now, my heart is just trying to regain it's composure though my hands are still shaking even though the locks have been changed.

new start

I've started moving all my poetry into a new blog.

Take a look at:
http://boatsthatsink.blogspot.com/

Feel free to comment, please. I used to want to be a writer, I think I've lost those dreams, but I still do appreciate comments.

so where does that leave us?

I have to tell you something. I am a small and tentative creature. I don't know how to be loved, and I am only full of guess on how to love. I make a lot of mistakes and only discuss a few of them. I am curious about self-destruction. I am curious about enlightenment. I have wandering into a scandalous lifestyle. I am curious about drugs, but I am unable to do them. I wake the city streets alone at the most irrational times of night. I am surprised that nothing bad in a big way has happened to me. I just witnessed my parents sharing toothpaste, and it's occured to me that this is the most affection I have seen between the two of them in my twenty years of life. I throw myself around a lot. And I don't know what to do now that I'm with you. My desperate actions to keep a man interested, somehow fail with you. I don't know how to tell you... that when my junior high years of cuts for luck and my senior high years of scars for freedom failed me... I am familiar with self-destruction in terms of throwing myself into a man's arms... fully knowing that he's going to throw me away... I have to tell you that I don't know how to be loved exclusively. I don't know how to admired, appreciated, cared for. I don't know how to be loved. Period.