A Forest of Thoughts

The wind blew in new air, and with it old memories. 

The snowflake fingerprints you made that dissolved when they touched my hand.

Each one unique, can't belong to anyone else,

Standing out against the pale horizon 

Of my skin and a winter sky.

The withering sound of a long lost voice

Swept away by the crackling of icicles and years

Getting lost amid the pines of weeks and briars of more lost dreams.

But every trail I pick out through the woods of time still leads me back to you.

Tripping through poison ivy days I'd never live again

Happening upon a place in my mind I thought I had left behind.

I found you waiting in the summer, with thriving green eyes

The only clue that there was once something that could survive.

And I sat on the log, by your side where I was

When the snowflake fingerprints fell.

Enraptured by the thought that not all snow freezes and kills.

Then the bitter frost of reality snapped the branches down to earth

Slaughtered the shoots of new happenings

And the birds flew away...

But I exhale onto a dandelion

Watching the seeds dance

Wondering where they're going to land, or if they'll return by chance,

Hoping that when the frost is lifted

And the sun decides he's ready to shine

I'll see a glimpse of green again.

But that this time it will stay,

So that when I return from my memory's dense thicket

Caked in mud and snow

I can look at my own front yard

and see summer once again.

Metaphor

A tapping on the keyboard and the clacking isn't like the sound produced by other keys- not piano keys which fill my soul, or house keys which say 'you're home', or car keys that mean I am running far away.... instead I spill out cruel replies to your cruel words because we can't see each other's faces. It's so much easier to be callous when I don't hear it from your voice; so much easier to be harsh when I can't see your blue-green eyes asking why I said that. (And to think I actually slept that night.... is this where past betrayal leads us? To disregard someone who we used to say we loved, like they were nothing more than just an annoying child? Is part of the danger of unforgiveness holding the grudge against those who never even knew the trespasser?)

And are these ramblings (for the days when poetry won't come) just my way of hoping you're not like me? (Never fall in love with someone just like yourself. You start ignoring your own flaws because theirs seem beautiful) Or are they just my way of trying to work out what happened? (Last night you finally forgave me... it's so much harder to be mad when you have to see the other person's feelings scribbled across a paper face with pain's carving pen) All I know is that sometimes I'm tired of learning- I just wanna know for sure. Tired of the trial and error of everything and I just want to hide. I am not a scientist, even though biology is my best subject. I cannot test and work out and try again. I am a crazy artist who paints out the shades of gray, and weeps because black and white seem so harsh but sometimes you want the pang of honesty. 

And all my life is a metaphor.

When The Butterflies Won't Fly Away

I can't sleep because I've got a million songs and memories floating through my head. I saw your smile on someone else's face tonight while I was out. A quick flash and the things I tried so hard to forget were back as all the caterpillar feelings which had been sleeping in cocoons broke into a new array of butterflies. Five years. Who are you that you could have such power over me. Sometimes I wish I could meet you again, and let you ruin yourself as all the others did. Then maybe the butterflies could go free without someone having to first slash me open.

I pull up her profile on Facebook and sigh. I sigh because she's beautiful (man, I wish I was beautiful...*) and because she's my best friend and because she's leaving. I sigh because I want to know how it feels to be loved. (Instead of lied and led and all the 'L' words that are always Less than love) 

I peer at my phone but know that no new texts are coming. We both know we're not asleep but always hope one of us can finally catch a wink. The days are long and I think the reason we have to stay awake is because we so desperately hope the day isn't all there is. (I'm hearing voices telling me that I should get some sleep because tomorrow might be good for something* but it hardly ever is.)

So there are the ramblings of one who can't sleep because the music and memories won't stop playing. Maybe I'm just crazy. Maybe I'm just tired. But maybe broken records and torn vinyl aren't so different from fleeing dreams and butterfly have-beens.

* "Mr Jones" by Counting Crows

* "Unwell" by Matchbox 20

A Weary Night I Know So Well

So, this poem is rather unconventional because there is no set rhyme or meter, but bear with me. I am not a very socially acceptable person and this just a fact of life.


The nights are long and the lights are low
And you’re just someone I used to know.
Casting shadows on the wall
Because your words make me so small
I need a way to prove
That I can finally stand.
The washer’s going, the floor needs swept
I’m sitting alone and Jesus wept
And I am weeping, too.
Making droplets on my hand.

What happened to knowing it’d never be okay?
What false security lead me to feel this way?
What was I thinking to relax and close my eyes?
Not that it would have mattered, because the demons were disguised.(As you)

When the pieces fell and the children cried
Cause the puzzle’s broken and Grandma’s died.
I only thought of you.
When the resounding silence filled the void
Leaving me alone and paranoid
I remembered a detail of your skin.
(How did this all begin?)
(Hey, do you remember when?)

I couldn’t see the difference
Between the grass and the summer sky
Because love had made me blind.
Now the scales have fallen away
And I can see the colors again.
But without you all the shades are gray
So I guess it’s all the same.

And when did the moments slip away
Into picking at nails and staring past
Your face so I didn’t have
To look you in the eye?
When did my name lose yours
And all the things that made us laugh
Only make me cry?

I kissed the frame of a broken thought
And settled into my nest.
Wove my blanket out of my hair
Alone without my best,
Cause you took that when you left.

So tell the world what a fiend I am.
Spread your lies and make yourself feel bigger
Like my shadow on the wall.
It doesn’t matter to me anymore
I’ve been there, I’ve seen it all,
And can say without a shadow of doubt
I’ve been shocked by what you can live without.
Your life is your own call.

And I’d rather be alone
In my nest of shattered dreams
Than live my life beneath your thumb
Missing all the could-have-beens.

Tell your new girlfriend hello
And your sister that I said hi.
I suppose that soon she’ll hate me, too
For all I allegedly did to you
But I can’t change a lie
Or make someone see the truth.

The nights are long and coated in dew
And you’re just someone I never knew.

UPDATE

*ahem* For all of you readers of my blog, I would like to tell you about something I watched on television a few nights ago. I was sitting on my couch, eating some Little Debbies and watching Extreme Forensics, pretty much being the happiest person alive. (Yes, I eat while watching crime shows. Leave me alone.) Well, the scene that unfolded before my eyes was one of the sickest things I've ever seen in my life. I mean, we're talking, there were copious amounts of blood splashed through nearly every room of the entire house in question, some brain matter at the base of the stairs, blood drying on the floor, dripping off the kitchen sink-- yeah, it was nasty.



So I'm sitting there munching on my snack cake, shaking my head in wonder and thinking, "Man, this guy got it good. He musta ticked someone off really badly." The curious thing is that none of the blood fell in a pattern that indicated the man was running. The crimson droplets were small round puddles, which means they fell directly down from the wound. Irregular smear-type shapes that would indicate the victim was running from an attacker were not seen. (To see what I mean if you don't believe me, dip your hand in water, let it fall straight off your fingers, then start moving your hand like you were running and note the difference in the droplets)



It was at this point, (along with cash left on the victim's nightstand merely a few feet away from where he was found) that the forensic investigators realized something was amiss. One man noted that there was no blood spray on the walls or ceiling, as there would have been if the victim had been bludgeoned. (Bludgeoning was about the only manner of death that would match up with the severe trauma to the skull which was found on the body.) Suddenly, he realized the lacerations along the skull matched up with the patterns in the iron handrail located at the base of the stairway.

Cause of death?

HE FELL DOWN THE STAIRS!!!

Hmm, this rather sounds like something I was trying to explain way back in my second post. The moral of this rambling? I was right- THE STAIRS ARE OUT TO KILL US ALL!!!!

ABCs

The ABCs of a struggle too many girls have...


A is for anorexia- the choice by which we die.
B is for beauty- the dream which makes us cry.
C is for calories- that to which we cannot yield.
D is for depression- the other emptiness that we feel.
E is for energy- it is what slowly drains.
F is for food of course- the cause of all our pains.
G is for gum- what instead of food we chew.
H is for hunger- which we keep secret, or think we do.
I is for inside- where we are really screaming
J is for jilted- so we run to our own dreaming.
K is for kissing- as we kiss our joy good-bye.
L is for lying- "Yes Momma, I'm fine."
M is for missing- all the fun we've missed.
N is for nothing- which is all the things we did.
O is for the ocean- where we are afraid to go,
P is for panicked- that our bathing suits must show.
Q is for quiet- because if we talk we might admit it.
R is for reality- we're dying and thought we hid it.
S is for shocked- because we've lost control.
T is for terrified- that the hunger might brush our soul.
U is for unsure- we can't eat though we're trying.
V is for vivid- the pain of midnight crying.
W is for water- because it hurts too much to eat
X is for x-ray - we look like bones from head to feet.
Y is for youth- which we lost and no one won
Z is for zenith- when we wonder what we've done.

Ponderings

I look at you & I wonder if you have any clue how lucky you are. 

(I don't think that you do)

I peer at the moon & wonder what it's like to watch a thousand people screaming their tears out every night.

(I think I'd fall right out of the sky)

I stare at the stars & wonder how they can look down on all the lovers without feeling alone.

(Or maybe sometimes they do)

I watch the people walking & I wonder where they're going.

(What's it like to have that purpose?)

I see the rain splashing down & wonder how it feels to shatter into fragments on the ground.

(Yet I think I kind of know)

I look at the mirror & wonder if I'm looking back, wondering if I know how lucky I really am.

(I hope that I do)

Something I Stole from My Best Friend

This is a list of assorted facts about me and the world in general I feel are essential to life:

1. Spiders are icky. My argument for this stands thus: How many creatures have eight legs and eight eyes? Exactly. Four humans do. So being watched by a spider is like being stared at by four people at once- it's unnerving.

2. I am proud to say that I have the best friends known to mankind. They always deal with me and my bad habit of leaping before I look, and love me just the same. It's awesome.

3. I would someday like to own a home or apartment that has a huge art studio, complete with walls for throwing paint at, easels, a pottery wheel, charcoals, paper, etc. 

4. When I get my income tax return, I am marching down to the nearest pregnancy center or anti-abortion clinic and donating every cent. This is my little way of standing up to the government for what they are doing with our money.

5. I think people would all be a lot happier if we ate ice cream together and sang a few songs. This is just my theory, but I believe ice cream brings people together.

6. I want to be like Madea when I grow up.

And I cannot think of anything else at the moment, because my stomach is screaming and my food is calling, but I leave you with this and hope you remember to put the snow to good use by making snow cream!! (For all intents and purposes, to make snow cream you add some milk, a little vanilla and sugar to a bowl of nice sparkly white snow. Mix it up and fall in love with it)