I am lost. Blinded by tears, torn by indecision. Even the perfect picture in my mind has lost its frame. Sadness can’t guide my words anymore, it’s something darker. Those bouts of darkness were only shadows, covering up what lies beneath. If I had the choice, it would have all been over by now. But lack of commitment has kept me from sleeping forever. Until then I’ll force my eyelids open with toothpicks and paint a smile on my face, and oh what a masterpiece it will be.
To You, My Dear
I have a love/hate relationship with this blog. I love it because I can freely and creatively express my feelings without any real repercussions, and I hate it because I feel guilty for not posting more often. But, seeing as how my posts are generally inspired by bouts of emotional distress and heartbreak, it must mean that if I’m not posting, I am generally in a good mood, so I shouldn’t feel too bad about it. But why can’t I write poems about being happy? You now see the predicament this whole thing has gotten me into… I am going back and forth with it to no end. In any case, I am sorry for not being more depressed in order to entertain you all (because there are so many of you), but who knows, maybe the sun won’t come out tomorrow, or better yet, I will finally be inspired by my recently lightened mood.
xoxo
Brett
Awe Inspiring
I love Ernest Hemingway and truly admire his ability to choose exactly the right words to get his point across. Every word he writes and the way he composes each sentence is deliberate, and I often find myself in awe of it. I just started A Moveable Feast and I keep reading these few sentences over and over:
“I’ve seen you beauty, and you belong to me now, whoever you are waiting for, and if I ever see you again, I thought. You belong to me and all Paris belongs to me and I belong to this notebook and this pencil.”
Absolutely beautiful. I can only dream of being able to write like him…
I and Me/Lost
Sometimes the only place I want to be
Is right here with I and me.
Head on my pillow
Smelling my own scent
Staring at my own dark eyes in the mirror.
Sometimes I want to disappear
Fade to black
And start again from the beginning
I want to be lost
But not forgotten
sweet words
I haven’t done a quote in a while, but I saw this the other day and it struck me as really sweet and reminded me of my childhood.
“If I were Peter Pan, you would be my happy place.”
It also makes me wish that I was someone’s happy place… but who knows, maybe I am…
Some other day and time
we could have been meant for each other.
But the breaking of a million other hearts
will never put yours back together.
The longer I wait,
the farther you wander from me.
And sometimes I wonder,
was I ever on your map at all?
I was nothing but a kind stranger
who offered advice when you lost your way.
You won’t remember my face
but my voice will echo in your dreams
on the loneliest of nights.
And your face will haunt my thoughts
for years to come
while your voice fades away
like the ending of a song.
somewhere else or bust
The world inside my head is so vast and dark that even I need a map. My brain is working overtime and without pay. Sometimes I wish I could just turn it off… Remember this, do that, write this, save that, don’t forget, keep your promises and remember to smile. My heart and head somehow got disconnected, now one is functioning on it’s own and spinning out of control. My body is stuck but in my mind I’m already gone. Speeding westward at a hundred miles an hour, never looking back.
I’m a foolish little girl
I have a confession. I have a crush. A juicy, mind-consuming, little girl on the playground, you make me weak-in-the-knees crush. And nothing, I mean NOTHING good can come out of it. He’s not only bad for me, but he doesn’t even know that I exist. Not in that high school, he’s in another clique sort of way, I mean it’s the I’m the millionth girl he’s flirted with and he’s blinded by the literal flasbulbs that chase him every day sort of way. I keep saying that I’m not getting my hopes up and that nothing will happen, but inside I’m swelling every minute and my cheeks burn hotter with jealousy each day that I don’t hear from him. He’s so close, yet so far away…
I’m like a lightning rod in a storm, begging to be struck by disaster; pleading with someone to break my heart again, as if I’ve lost the strength to hold it together. This weekend will come and go, I won’t be anything more, but maybe a little less. I’ll survive, and the scars I’ll hide, just brush it off as a phase. So I’ll say this before I have to tell myself “I told you so”…
To Whom It May Concern:
You call yourself a car crash and act like you’re the victim, but really all you wanted was for people to stop and stare…
Surely you knew you’d cause more accidents this way…
Shame on you.
Oldie But A Goodie
I was going through some things and found this… I can’t even remember when I wrote it, but I liked it a lot, so here it is. The last part reflects on how I felt last year, which was easily the best year of my life thus far… it’s interesting to read this now and see how things have changed.
Wind encircles me
Hair clinging to my lips and eyelashes
Like a child to her mother’s skirts
Until all I have to guide me
Is the memory of the cobbles under my feet.
Do you ever get the feeling that things are going too good for you? You don’t want to exhale because your life seems too amazing, too perfect- to the point of being fake, fragile, breakable. Any moment now- you are waiting for something bad to happen, something to shatter the glossy bubble you’ve been living in…..
What goes up, must come down.
Ouch.
I’m sad. That’s all I can say. I expected more, I deserve more. I thought I was your “person”, your sounding board, the deposit box for all your secrets… I thought I was your best friend. There’s a pit at the bottom of my stomach and you’re the one holding the shovel. “Did I do something wrong?” I keep asking myself… I guess it wasn’t enough to be your safety net last summer. Was my shoulder not good enough to catch your tears? I know love makes people do crazy things, but you don’t see that I love you… the sister I never had. Love him, but love us too. Before him, we were all you had… but now I’m not sure you can remember that far back.
