Sleep Well

The punishment for unconditional love?
Unconditional loss.

Shut Up Patti

I thought about why my writing is in such a dry spell. I didn't come up with much, other than my mouth being dry. Which is completely unrelated. I might need a beverage and some chapstick.

The older I get, the more I realize how much people suck. Including me.

And I watch way too much Bravo. Because at least one out of two people on that channel are always gay. And it somehow makes me feel as if I'm less of an outcast.

Typing while tired should be more illegal than driving while drunk.

Reasons I go on OK Cupid

To judge
To be judged
To laugh
To regret
To mock
To wait
To write
To read
To cringe
To sleep

To smirk at people I don't know
To stare at people I do know
To think of what's here
To wish on what's not
To believe in true love
To ignore random fucks
To ridicule weird profile names
To pacify new lover's game

To toss
To turn
To teach
To learn

Ok Cupid.
I get it.

Dear Doubt

Leave.

Take your heavy burden
And endless loads
Take your crooked trails
And bumpy roads

Take your belittled ego
And mistaken reasons
Take your endless winters
And sunless seasons

Find the optimistic times
In a setting sun
Find the new motivation
In the second race to run

Find the hidden power
In the strength of defeat
Find the newest courage
In the walk of retreat

Create a new foundation
In more than hollow ground
Create the sternest solace
In times with none around

Create a rare meaning
For what some could call doubt
Create a fresh perspective
For living life without

3 Hours and Light-years Away

I built a bridge, hoping you would
Burn it before I crossed it.
Ashes to ashes, dust
To dust.
I'm glad I could count on you
For something.

You give me acid reflux

I got a moment of courage
Or weakness, depending
On what those ten digits meant
And like your fingers
My stomach rejected the call
And I'm not sure what makes
Me feel worse
That you don't care
Or that I still do
Either way, I'll swallow a few Tums
And hope that calcium
Makes swallowing
My pride a little bit easier too

July 15th

I was never told intestinal tracts are made of shoelaces
But I think they might be
And I think my fingers may reach right through my belly button
And knot those intestinal laces when I see you
And then my headstrings and heartstrings gather to laugh at me
Because you don't feel that way

And never will.

random scribbles

I made you crazy
Because I was that much crazier
And you had to go
Before it was your time to come

But I don't regret doing
Regretful things
Because it made you think
Even if those thoughts
Were suicidal

And I made you write
About someone else

But I made you write, nonetheless

Don't wave with your middle finger

I'm not sure byes are so improper as they say
Just people, I would think
In fact, I know.
Proper goodbyes are made improper
By improper people.
Who insist on making
Nothing out of something.

My Favorite Things

Are your eyes green or blue? I never noticed.

My Favorite Things

Of all the things I've ever done
Learning you
Loving You
Losing you

The Cubist Surrender

She painted a picture.
With beautiful reds.
Warm, inviting, but not
intimidating.

she could not satisfy
herself.
Or her paintbrush.

So she splashed in a few blues.

Not the blue of a bright sky.
but the blue of a restless
And reckless
Sea.
See?

Then she topped the canvas in green.
Grassy knolls and grassy soles
And souls
made a masterpiece.

she turned to the sink
To clean her brush.
And realized there was nothing there.

Even their there wasn't theirs anymore.

bloody hands.
tear-stained cheeks.
and envy-tinted eyes.

There was no easel.
Because good can't stand on good intentions.

And there is no canvas.
Because she tore her to shreds.

The girl with the sad eyes

I'm hanging by a thread
Twisted through a sharp needle
Poised to stitch the twisted pieces
Hanging from your broken heart

Walk Away

I walk away leaving the door cracked and a window half open
With shadows gripped around my ankles, puzzled by the light
Loose ends lingering, seeking resolution in my footsteps

I walk away leaving the restless silence of unspoken words
With stifled emotions kicking at my stomach
Like a newborn, naively choosing to enter this cruel world

I walk away leaving the pieces of a secret puzzle
Scattered in the kindred spirits of the beautiful
Uniting to make a picture of chaotic solidarity

I walk away leaving untied laces and untied endings
Fighting to be more than a moment, and less than a destiny
Like sweet memories that kiss the mind tenderly on a sunny day

But when I finally arrive through the trenches of that jagged road
I realize I am inches away from where I started
Because walking away is always walking towards something
Or someone.

Leaving

The fire in my eyes doesn't lust for your body
But for the passion of a dream I've never known
A better life in solitude arouses my desires
More than the kiss of a beautiful woman ever could
So take your cherry lips and bubblegum kisses
And save them for someone who might need a savior

Sweet Dreams

Purposed hands push you over a cliff
Eyes watch you writhe, twisting to destruction
Hair blowing, flesh crawling to nothingness
Ashes to ashes, and you to dust


Believe in salvation?
Well don't.
Destruction has a familiar face

And then you'll reach to me, through sweat-covered sheets
Flowing like the wind through your pitiful fall
And the foolish innocence, or innocent foolishness
Blinds your eyes to living nightmares

When I feel loved

The most intimate touch could not rival
Our love-making, wild and free
Yet sensual and sensible
Refined, but not practiced
Passionate but never reckless

But the grazing of my face
After a night of sweating,
Crying, and screaming
Cannot compare to the touch
Of you wiping my tears away

It is then, when ecstasy is
Rivaled by sadness that you
Brush away my pouring worries
And I know I truly must stay
In this moment, In this embrace
forever.

Numb

I can't cry
Because this pill
Won't let me
So please don't
Call me cold-hearted
Just call me
Medicated

BFF. u.

Just friends is one way
To disguise the "won't say"
And not ready is fleeting
For a girl who is retreating
Because promises don't last
And people fade that fast
So forgive my push to ready
Such a life that moves unsteady
And even though I know it
The future just won't show it
So I suppress the whys and how
For the friendship in the now

Driving to Tallmadge

It was 3:44 a.m.
I bought gas, Doritos
And a smoothie drink.

Because I couldn't buy happiness.

Time Response

There is no tick, tock for the beat of heart
There is no solid ending for an invisible start
And the joke of time will trick the broken
Convince the wise to chase the unspoken

My embrace personifies the confusion of time
And uncertainty makes me toggle rewind
Beliefs are little more than the second hand
The pieces in between that make time stand

Alarms remind me time can be so urgent
So monotony must then have a resurgence
Because God forbid I waste one moment
On spontaneous feelings, a worthy opponent

Ticklish

Don't tickle me
Not even my fancy
I don't like being
Out of control
Of how my body
Responds to intrusion

Don't tickle me
Not even my fancy
I don't like appeasing
Any random John or Jane
With a genuine grin
That wasn't deserved

Don't tickle me
Not even my fancy
I don't like attaching
A happy expression
To a stupid action
That has no emotion

Don't tickle me
Or fuck me.
We both know I wasn't talking
About tickling anyway

I picked up a pen and smiled

This one is for you. And you know it too. I didn't feel inspired. And you made me write one day.

I picked up a pen and smiled

The beauty of your brokenness makes me want to grasp the pieces
Mold them, remake them, find the joint releases
Follow you to nowhere soon or lead you to somewhere boldly
Protect and shield the guarded one, the vengeful treated coldly

I can't let you block a guardian angel, just finding her wings
And I will let you play the savior, to see what saving brings
Forgive fast, let's not reject the feel of the unknown
Surrounded by faces, your kindred spirit ties with mine alone

Remember, twisted shadows require sunlight first
And better only exists when preceded by a worst
Satisfy your need to be by being as good as you are
And the essence of us will push caution's door ajar

i'm not that nice when daydreaming

I was really happy when I wrote this. I'm confused.

I'm not that nice when daydreaming

I'd call you self-centered, but I'm not sure you have a core
Because you are so consumed with being unassuming
I couldn't care less if you find your way because you had your way with me
And I don't really think about you being well because I'm not sure you ever meant well
It is sweet revenge knowing you will think fondly of what I won't remember
I finally see you for who you really are and what you never will be

it's getting late

Focus is not a camera setting
or a state of mind
but the lazy decision
to acquiesce to order

Somehow i am uninterested
in overpriced text pages
and linear life plans
that worked for boring strangers

So I'll let the dishes pile high
and watch the laundry make mounds
then skip the unnecessary showers
in lieu of bad decisions

I'll let the lustful girls play
and stomp on a few dance floors
then wash my apprehensions down
with another cup of coffee

I'll drink a few too many mike's
and laugh a little too loud
Because youth is fleeting
and I'm chasing it readily

thinking of you

I don't think i needed to cry about you
I think i just needed to cry
And you happened to be a convenient villian
But thanks for the tears that you claimed
To let me feel a validated sadness

i don't write poems when i'm happy

it's been a long since i've been so happy that i've wanted to cry,
and i'm having that moment right now, and i'm not sure how to handle it.
i think i'll just cry. and go back to watching really bad reality television.
i am happy. but this time when i say it, i mean it. :)

the woman child

the edge of reason does not have a substantial blade
for a headstrong girl who refuses to bleed
still, the lifewater runs dry
because substance is not quenched by water
but by rationality alone

the spectrum of feeling

The ambiguity of the clouds did the rainbow no justice
So we grabbed that rainbow and wrapped our hands in its fluid edges
And regressed to childhood folly and fantasy with forgotten abandon

There was more to that rope than the illusion of its colors
And the beats of rainbow games fused sounds of teardrops and laughter
So we sweat and cried and jumped until the clouds gathered overhead

But you couldn't hold on to childhood beliefs threatened by menacing skies
So the warmth of the yellows and oranges cowered in face of doubt
And the indigo shadows and blues skies planted themselves in your mind

And heart.

Wake up call

"That Chinese food didn't taste right."

Potential food poisoning and the droning of some repetitive news network put me to sleep. It was a long day, and getting longer. Sitting in a comfortable chair was not as relaxing as it would have been at another person's apartment. I dated "her" for three years and loved her for ten, so comfort just wasn't that easy for us anymore.

I stopped at her job after work and took her keys so I could rest at her apartment and wait for her to get off. I kept telling everyone at work I didn't feel that well, but I guess people don't care how a sales associate feels if she can fold clothes and smile.

An Ohio snow storm is mostly unpleasant, especially for the lucky ones, like myself, with no heat in their cars. I drove from my job, to her job, to the Chinese restaurant with one hand on my steering wheel. My other hand served as an extra windshield wiper to scrape frost off of the inside of my car and rub my legs for warmth.

After I spent a day staring at people's hand-me-downs, arguing with middle-aged women, and belittling myself just to get along, I was exhausted. I couldn't wait to get to her apartment, even if it meant I would be forced to be alone with my thoughts.

The night before the snow storm was a storm of its own. I was angry at myself for leaving a bar in tears because of news that should not have upset me as it did. People date. Stop dating. And date other people. Life is just like that. But the simplicity of the matter doesn't make the emotions of the matter less complicated.

I didn't want to remember leaving a crowd in tears. Who would? I thought some Chinese food and decent television would distract me. The chair was so soft. Even if it was furniture meant to be "ours," I could appreciate its cushions for a few hours.

I'm not sure how much time passed between my slumber and my living nightmare. I could not look at the clock above the television because I realized my body wouldn't let me. I was hyperventilating, and my heart was pounding too fast. Something wasn't right.

My legs crumbled under me as I tried to get help, so I resolved to crawling "army style" across the floor to her roommate's door. I pounded harder than my heart beat, wondering if I had to entrust my life to someone who didn't even like me that much.

I spoke in irrational fragments when he opened the door. I was panicking because I couldn't breathe, and it wasn't getting better. My heart rate was chasing the speed of my current lifestyle, and both could not co-exist. I told her roommate to call for help. He told me the paramedics were on their way.

I shook on the floor wondering if I would ever see my ex again. Or our dog. Or my roommates. Or my sister. Or my mother. Or the should-have-beens. Or the should-not-have-beens.

Every person I loved or loathed came to remembrance as I tried to keep myself conscious. I pictured my sister telling me a funny joke. I re-created my first kiss with the only girl I ever loved. I hallucinated my dog resting in my shaking arms. I even felt the latest taste of rejection graze my lips, mimicking the kiss I remembered/ thought I remembered from last night.

Then, those comforting feelings turned to sadness. What if there was something I said or did to someone I couldn't change? Did I miss the chance to meet my soul mate? Did I meet my soul mate without recognizing it?

I begged an unseen presence for help, and I yelled some kind of incoherent prayer.

The paramedics came, and my heart rate slowed. They decided an ambulance ride was unnecessary after asking me questions, both relevant and irrelevant. One paramedic was convinced I was a coke addict, an insult that would not register until later.

After waiting about an hour, my ex came to my rescue as she always does. Her smiling face rounded the corner, and she assured me everything would be all right. I cried, and she mistook my tears as a sign that I feared losing her.

As a doctor diagnosed me with severe dehydration, I felt completely numb. A life with no sleep, excessive caffeine, endless stress, and too much liquor finally caught up with me. And almost killed me.

Now I sit in my living room riding the coattails of a year that nearly killed me, in more ways than one. If I would have died in her living room, would those drinks and those insecurities have been worth it? Would my legacy be a legacy at all?

I don't have to make resolutions for 2010. I resolve to live. In every sense of the word. I am done relishing in memories and chasing impossible futures. Both disguise the reality of my present. Some things were. And some things will be.

But life does not stop. Even for a selfish 21-year-old who thinks she has it all figured out. And wraps herself up in people and things that only masquerade as important.

Life would have continued without me, but I don't want it to. I want to be a contributor, instead of a bystander, in my own life.