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the beautiful people

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[24 May 2006|06:09pm]
today i sat on the roof with the hottest boy in my class as he smoked his hand rolled cigarette, & we talked about how you would be proud.

& when i told you, you said you always regretted not doing that.

someday kid i will act without caring whether you would approve.

(but not quite yet.)


[03 May 2006|11:04pm]
i want to ask you if youre happy now that youve gone back, away from this broken city. i know you would say at least its better than home. i want to ask you what it would take to make you happy.

but you always hate when i ask you that. because its one question you dont know the answer to, & one you cant look up in an encyclopedia when i ask.

you have to use your heart for this one.


[30 Apr 2006|11:21pm]
he doesnt return my calls. when i walk over, he leaves me with his friends. we havent talked in three weeks. he was going to talk to me when adrienne yelled to him for a ride. he said "see you tomorrow?" "yea." & he left. i didnt see him tomorrow.

i dont know where he decided to go to college, i dont know the whole thing with his siblings different last names, i dont know any of the answers to the questions i wrote in a note & slipped inside the case of the mix cd i gave him, the one he said he liked.

i dont know who hes taking to prom. i would rather not find out when i see him there & try--try--to look happy. try not to spend the whole night wishing i was prettier, smarter, funnier, more talented. wishing i was everything, anything he could want.

but mostly wishing i didnt feel that way at all.


[27 Apr 2006|10:38pm]
i want to get drunk with you & all your friends so when you lean back on the couch & fall asleep, i can write across your forehead:

i love your sorry ass.


Sorted [03 Feb 2006|01:48am]

. There is an idea I have about the world.

. This idea states that misery is people not dealing with their issues.

. This idea means people feel deeply (I feel deeply), feel immensely (I feel immensely), feel powerfully (I feel powerfully), because of all the wrong, all of the injustice served to them (served to me).

. This means, that I feel this way because I am not forgiving, I am not accepting what the world has given me, and being happy with it. I am looking over to the other side of the fence, and saying that the grass over there, why, it... it MUST be greener.

. And it may be. There is no denial to what has happened in my life, and to what happens in other people's lives, but it is their place to learn and experience what they learn and experience, and my place to be who I am. And my place to learn what I learn. And also my place to experience what I experience.

. It could be said that it is, in fact, God Given. I have been divinely selected to do what I do, and be who I am.

. If it is divinely given, then why should I be miserable over it? God may be misery as much as Joy, but surely only because these are perceptions of what God is, and... so... Why would I not preceive the Joy in everything, unless I was looking for something other than Joy?

. Why would I look for something other than Joy? What would the purpose be?


[04 Dec 2005|12:30am]
i knew you didnt mean it & i told you myself that you didnt
know just what you were talking about.
if you find the truth condescending well then im sorry dear but
youll only find it impending if you keep running away.
i just thought that maybe we could make things a little brighter
for each other but clearly you disagree.
i know now that we will never understand each other even if its being
screamed out loud in our ears. i said i would wait forever
& i said i hoped it mattered but im sure by now you know that
i changed my mind. & isnt it too bad, isnt it so sad
that we will never change? we will never change.

(at least, i know you will never change.)


[07 Nov 2005|08:31pm]
its the smoothness of your hands, the cadence of your voice; its the scent of your clothes, the amber flecks in your eyes.
its the way you feel in my arms, its the way i feel in yours; its the feeling of your fingers wrapped around my waist.
its the way your arm is too long for mine only it isnt at all. its the way i could hold you against me for hours (and did).
its the things you speak softly into my ear, then lean your face next to mine waiting for an answer.
its the fact that our friends were there yet i pretty much kept forgetting. its the way neither of us wanted to be the first to move...

that makes me think that maybe you mean it.


[24 Oct 2005|01:31am]
he said "i feel like youre really...intense...tonight"

i said "the ripping inside my ribs feels pretty damn intense."

he said "so...what are you looking for right now? are you honestly attempting to find a way to end the ripping? are you looking to complain to others and get shit off your chest? are you just wanting to sit and let the ripping continue and be kinda paralyzed?"

i said "i always do the last one. i tried the first. he made it worse. now i just want to rip his fucking chest apart, so he can see how real emotions feel."

& right now id like to rip your goddam chest apart, love. i really would.


[19 Sep 2005|11:24pm]
all these paths i traverse are littered with your footsteps
every turnover of my shoes reverberates your sure stride
monarchs flitting in my wake like tangerine dreams
sweat from your brow fertilizes the dense weeds
every tone of your laughter echoes off the leaves
like a frightened deer i run, frantically, clumsy in my grace
nowhere here can i escape your memory
the sun blinds me like the glimmer off your music
while these eloquent words flow through my mind as if
someone else were speaking them
they were much more articulate before i tried to remember them
yet i keep them firing hoping the burn in my heart
will overpower the searing in my calves
i mimic the soft rigidity of your form so as to improve myself
but i can walk in your footsteps no longer


[18 Sep 2005|07:47pm]
i made a picture. bold bright, the opposite of our misty drive back home but if he saw it...his silhouette against the window. funny if you look at that little rectangular piece of paper, you wouldnt know how close i was to him. & although ive decided its good for both our sakes that hes gone i still...would like if i could have that chat he promised me. just so i could ask him about that car ride. why he did it. why he did everything. i know he said he didnt notice, but he always says that the first time around. maybe thats why he made sure i couldnt get to that second one. maybe thats why he keeps popping up on my computer screen, saying hey & sorry i havent responded to your e-mail. ive been stressed out & homesick. it would take him 5 minutes. what is it hes not saying.

made me smile last night. as soon as i took my away message down. maybe 10 seconds, his was up. oh what to do on a saturday night. almost sent, talk to me. but i didnt. & he took it down. went away. as if he suddenly remembered he had plans.

but i dont really believe that. like i didnt really believe he meant nothing by lying down next to me. i put it all in the pictures. 3 of them. the first was best, second alright. i tried too hard. to make them vivid, so realistic but then i remembered it was a dream. one of those weekends. where nobody talks about it afterward for fear it was only in our minds. we just smile about it.

& in my stupid pictures maybe its obvious. i miss my someone to smile with.


[11 Aug 2005|01:20am]
[ mood | sick ]

my stomach churns sick like the flu
but its just the thought of you. foolish.
little boy, you think youre so goddam special, so
much bigger than me but you dont know
how i sit up at 1 am like a mother wishing
her son home late nights and when the void on that
screen is filled by your name i grow weary
so deathly weary
with images of you, choking on your own alcohol
your tongue searching the inside of your mouth for
the taste of reality.
but youve lost it all. with your parties and your
false bliss, your fucking weed and your friends
who just care about a good high and would drop you
in an instant if you werent their ride home.
you told me you werent perfect but i never thought
you believed yourself to be so worthless.
the wisdom i heard pour from those lips these past
years--could that be the same boy?
could that have been you?
i avoid your name like the plague but all i want is
to make you give me your reasoning for killing yourself.
beautiful child. if only you knew.
my love is not that of a foolish girls but of a haggard
old woman grown old from worry at your safety.
beautiful child, please dont make me
mourn you.


[09 Aug 2005|04:08pm]
Its such vanity, the words I spill across the page then
step back in superiority as the shower of awe & amazement
hardens my heart like Magic Shell chocolate syrup
The pen in my hand, a gun
with which I shoot down unarmed opponents
then as the smoke clears smugly grin from my gold-plated throne
I rule this world
With arrogance I play my hand, dethrone kings & queens
poker face at all times, all pride & strength
Behind this mask of glasses and icy stare, my eyes are well hidden
No one can see the fear of losing my Excalibur
of Lancelot my purest love betraying me with my Guinevere
No pen-as-swordsman sees the romantic pity of this state
Such glorious disgust
The lone masked crusader hunches over, clenched sweaty fists
cling to his horses mane as not to fail, to retain
dignity to the last breath
Glorious it is not
For none of my greatest threats sees past this Berlin-wall facade I
stand behind and command my troops from to fight to the death
They see strong words, immortal words, unfaltering strength of emotion
love, pain, and devotion as in Medieval tales
So I stand tall in my costumed ride and lay the cards down without fail
I am the writer; i create my truth
This rifting, soul-wrenching loneliness will remain tethered
inside the dankest dungeon of my mind
Let fly my vainest poetry, to stand like Hercules and challenge all


[11 Jul 2005|07:15pm]
late last night, you were on my mind, put there by someone else. on an already humid night, the concept of you consumed my body with an overwhelming heat. it was the heat of embarrassment, and jealousy, and hatred, and sadness, and regret, and the palpable feeling of needing you, even after all this.

and with it, another feeling. the feeling of wanting to get out. out of this room, tainted by you: your picture at my bedside, your empty words scrawled across the yearbook cover, your loathed quote, the notes and words i wrote to you; the twenty five i won, prize money for feeling such painful feelings for you and scribbling them out in such revered fashion. at least you once were good for something.

if i could live a day where you did not come into conversation, i would be happy. but not so; so far, no one will allow me that, i laugh at how i tried so hard to convince those two that you were so nice, and now i wish i had just let it be. she talked about how you laways say hello when you see her, how quiet and sweet you are. how hot you are. and i could have slapped--you. i thought youd changed before. how could i have known?

i cant hate you, as my biggest fault is always granting the benefit of the doubt. and here i sit. in your favorite class. well, one of them. wishing i had never met you. i saw that teacher this morning. you know who i mean. and i was with a friend, but god how i wanted to apologize to him for arguing, for fighting in your favor. i could do no better than to erase you from the blood-stained pages of my life forever.


[04 Jul 2005|11:44pm]
there you are. sitting on the side of my screen. in your room, just down the hill, taunting me.

but i will sit here and wait it out. although i need to talk to you more than ever. because tomorrow you are leaving. 10 days until you come back, and im afraid those days will only hurt more if you respond to my hurt right now.

so you see, as much as i need your sympathy, as muchas i need your strength, as much as i need your quotes and your telling me it could be a lot worse...i will have ot do this for myself this time.

i take it back. i do love you.



[29 Jun 2005|11:57pm]
dear all of you

i would die right now.

but my suicide note is too boring.



[28 Jun 2005|06:49pm]

dear you.

so what does it mean. that we fought, the words you threw around, the obviousness that you care what i think. the realization that i can cause you pain. ive tried to convince myself so many times that i am imagining this, that i would never matter to you.

but then you show your ego bruises and you pout like a child (denying of course)

oh, false sense of pride, that i should gloat over supposed victories, in truth losses for us both. neither of us is perfect; neither of us is immortal. neither of us is as great as we believe the other to be, as we believe ourselves to be. and we matter more to each other than we would ever admit, and we hurt each other more than we would ever admit, in some foolish attempt to save our dignity. in which we destroy it to shards of glinting glass.

and until we face that it will still be a silly little boy and a silly little girl pretending.

love. me.


[25 Jun 2005|12:37am]
i always thought
i did something to deserve this, that i was
a bad child so i deserved your
screaming and hitting and vicious insults
and lack of guilt or remorse at the tears that
permanently killed my vision and left me too
weak to fight off these scars.

but now i know you come from where
you used to say i did.
now i know you serve who
you used to say i did.

so burn in hell disgusting piece of flesh
while i grow the courage to fling
this out into the world.

i wont stand for this any longer.


[20 Jun 2005|11:20pm]
ah. i see how it is.
all year you're too good for me, you
say you dont know my friends you dont
know the guy i went out with so i cant
tell you about it but now, now that youve
just fucking gone and graduated, now
youre "regulars," youre friends, you
can hang out with my friends without me
now that you think youre rid of this pesky
little too-good-for-your-shit-anyways
girl that ive turned into.

now im here. now im told by that lovely
third-person-source that always lay between
us and i would smile but i have just
discovered that it fucking hurts too damn bad.

and i want out. but i want you.
because you have no idea what i went through
today and you were always the only one who
ever really cared.


[19 Jun 2005|08:21pm]
its so funny.

you, almost an adult, maybe you already are i
forget your birthday. you think im such a child.

but him, 20, if 2 years is forever than he is
eons older than you.
you should see us. he gets so nervous around me and
laughs all too much and i just smile and
toss my head around to cast my wanted attention
to his dog. and he stands behind me, trembling, trying
not to break.

and i smile. at your naivety.

(and all the things you dont know that i will never
tell you. ex-boyfriends and dates and friendships
twisted wiht none other than your friends but
you still think im too young for you.
and ill let you believe it if it keeps you so ignorantly


[14 Jun 2005|08:53pm]
i always wanted to have a friend away at summer camp.

but im not your friend. your "instant messaging buddy" is all. forget the afternoons i waited by you, that i wrote about in that poem that everyone knows is about you although i never told a soul. maybe you did. in any case i said youd forgot well, it was more a premonition than a fact because how could you forget that weekend, that gorgeous, star-filled, rain-soaked wekend that came to a close with us pretending we didnt want to lean against each other in the car; with us staying wide awake so we wouldnt fall asleep on the others shoulder, knowing thats all we really wanted to do.

and as many times as i write this over, i know it wont change--i know you cared, i know you care enough that the feelings havent gone since you leaned across me in the car to test me, tease me, hoping i would react the same as you. and i didnt. and it made you leave without a hug goodbye. and that is why you told me youre going to be away for a few days, and goodnight. hoping i would care, hoping i would respond, hoping i would be hurt enough by your belittling to follow up with my usual statements of truth and i love you.

but no. you cant win this round.

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