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The way that you gripped the steering wheel, I imagined maybe it was my thigh.  Your hand lightly embracing the surface of my skin. Gently cupped under the back of my knee. But I brushed that thought aside, no use getting swept away now. I keep trying to forget the cruel knowledge that I cannot spend all my time with you, also that the time I have will not last. What cruel knowledge that is.

i have lost the ability

to distinguish

between

the physical inability

and my own unwillingness Read more »

May 4, 1940, Nazi, Germany,

Dear Diary, Read more »

One of my other art projects :)

Your voice is like the

Key

To my memories of

Younger years,

When my life was not yet fleeting.

And it is hoarse,

Coated with flaking maroon rust

From salty tears

Which corroded away the real reasons

For crying.

You were carried away from me

On waves that crashed

On the rocks of my cheek bones,

And beauty shaded by clouds of red

In the whites of my eyes.

And I carried my baggage by the

Black water lines

Of my eyes.

My throat leaps for keys

To unlock it’s cage of

Finely sewn chains.

But it’s hard to cry for help loudly,

Yet so painfully easy to let silence slip through

Gaps between the links.

And no amount of tearing will

Dislodge the chains;

Though paper rips so easily

When expanding and contracting

So rapidly

As you turn the keys to my memories.

Last week, or was it the week before that, to clear things up, it was June 7, 2013, a friday.  I went to school, I was happy, and I was optimisitc about the on-coming summer, and the on-comming celebration of going from one grade, to the next. Finally I was going to be a Junior. Everything was going my way. School was going fine, but it was quite, the news came around 9:00, the news that would tear my heart to pieces and maybe change me for ever. They found her suddenly dead, hanging in her closest. My best friend, my only, true, human of a friend. The one I told everything too.. and this, this is for her.

Angel, 

Child,

Whoever is up there.

Destoryer of life, and heaven and everything

in between. 

Darkness, and light

and the mist in the clearing.

Drifted away, without a final good-bye.

Or an ounce of hope left in your very still, already cool,

body.

Your last breath left shortly after signing your name to the letter,

the letter that would not describe why you did it,

but just,

that you hoped my cat came back. 

That was kind of you thank you, truley,

But rather you, then he. 

To the images in my head, 

flashing pictures of things,

that happened once again,

so long, so far away. 

Images of you, of me, 

of happy times and mellow thoughts.

Of singing, of laughing, of common courtesy,

It's final. 

What you did.

It's final, this feeling... Read more »

For a while, I may sit and write of all the things that are known

But when I sit and think long enough even the known becomes mysterious

Could it be, that humanity only scrathes the surface of everything out there?

That what we think are great discoveries are really just basic facts

And maybe, the great theories we are still working on, will not eve help our greater problems.

However, if those mysteries that seem to be immense are only miniscule,

does that mean that the issues that threaten our daily life are just as small in scale?

And, to that, I say to you, no.

If a breathe of fresh air seems important to you now,

Do everything you can to get that air.

If a clean beach with no litter is necessary for your happiness,

pick up the trash you see and feel the sand in your toes.

You only have one life to live.

So I say to you, no,  and repeat

 You  only have one life to live.

Be proud of what you do.

If you feel sucessful you are. You cant go to the past and you cant go to the future.

Any stone you jump over could be life's greatest hurdle

Or it could just be a stone

So take those stones an jump because you can only go as far as you try.

Someone once told me to look closely, the closer you are the less you actually see. I scoffed and laughed it away, I knew better than to believe that. I'd been nearsighted for almost all my life and I knew the closer I was to anything, the more details I could make out. Now I wish that I had taken those word to heart, dwelved in to their meaning. I wish I hadn't ignored a warning that would have helped me in so many ways.

It was in seventh grade when I met her. She sat behind me in advisory and math, diagnal to me in geography. On the second day of school we had to do a scavenger hunt. I turned around and at the exact same moment, we asked to be the other's partner. We dissolved into giggles. That was when it started. Read more »

I watch the  hill

Nothing is moving everything is completely still

No cars

Not a bubble forming on the fresh tar 

I can hear the birds

But the worms stay unheard

My bags sprawled on the floor

The occasional creak of wind hitting the door

The playground swings are gently swaying

I search for the car, but the blank parking lot confirms to me that I'm staying

Everything is awkwardly still

As I wait for the car to come over the hill.