circles and triangles and now we're hanging out with your new girlfriend so far from where we've been.

i don't know if i ever told you, but i was a wreck when we broke up.

heartbroken.

someone had told me that it takes half of the amount of time that you've been with someone to get over them....but i'm pretty sure i cried far longer than that.

i didn't think i would ever stop missing you.  and it felt so tragic, to be young and feel so much love for someone and then lose it.

it didn't make sense to me............i mean, yeah, it didn't make sense to me at all how it almost seemed like you never even existed-- like you wanted it that way.

where do those feelings go?  not my feelings (i know all about my feelings)-- i guess what mean is where did yours go?

i felt mine.  i felt mine every time i walked by central park, sent an email, used my cell phone.....everything i did, everything i saw, every breath i took....hurt-- because it reminded me of you.

10 years later and i can't really remember all of the details- how it happened exactly, when "we" were suddenly back to "you" and "me".

i know we talked about it-- it might have even been me that said it.  but what it felt like then, and even a little bit now, was that one day you were just gone and there was nothing that i could do about it.

you were not coming back.  and all the things we did together, all the places we went together-- i was now doing/going alone; only broken in half.  half of the whole "us".

my tragic love story... quite possibly your happy ending.

i can laugh about it now but i wore the shirt with your name on it, on the first date i ever went on (after you).  i mean, i wore it under a dress or something, but i wore your name across my heart.

but i'm not writing all this to remember all that.

i'm writing this because i could.  because one day became the next day and after that i stopped feeling sad.  i threw away that shirt (the one with your name on it) and i can't even tell you what happened to all of those letters you wrote me.  the ones i said i'd keep forever.

forever was about 2 years.  maybe 3.  (a little longer than your forever-- the one that you said you'd  love me for).

yeah.  it's okay to laugh.  (i know we're cool.)

i want to change the world but still i sleep

i started writing but then i got a text from a friend.  it was kind of a sad text-- i mean, she is experiencing something sad right now.

i didn't know what to text back her- (my friend).  like i wanted to say something all uplifting and wise-- but i couldn't think of anything.  some things just suck and there is nothing else to say but i'm sorry, that sucks.  sometimes it just feels good for someone to acknowledge and even validate that a situation blows.

as people, we are always trying to fix things for one another but some things can't be fixed with one good sentence.  sometimes we just need to feel sad or angry or sorry for ourselves and the people around us just need to let us feel what we need to feel.  i can hold that space for her.  (i hope she knows that).

life is not always a bouquet of neon helium balloons.  sometimes the glass IS half empty.  we are allowed to not "look on the bright side" if we don't feel like it for one fucking day...  it is okay.  it's all okay.

we don't have to know how we are going to get through it.  we don't have to know how something is going to work out.  all we have to do is keep breathing.

xo xo xo



 

 

hold onto nothing as fast as you can

it's just uncomfortable

looking at her reflection in the glass

she would drape a sheet

(over the glass)

if she had one to spare

in it

(in the glass)

she paints the face

that she allows you to see

still imperfect

just a little less

scarred

just a little less

is what she would prefer to be

she would like to disappear 

if she could

she would

disappear

it's true

that she hides behind

a heavy bang that often sits too long across her eye

she sighs

someday i will grow my wings

she 

thinks

to 

herself

for a moment she remembers

how someone once told her

that she is an angel

flying too low

she does not laugh

it wouldn't be the first time

that 

she 

fell 

down

she's knows that she 

is too heavy

to fly

if she could

she would bang her fist

through the glass

if she could

she would scream

but she remains 

still

nobody knows 

the shadow that walks beside her

nobody knows

the sunken treasure in her chest

she takes a breath

she speaks

we're out there havin fun in the warm california sun....

i was just thinking about how the air is different in the summer.  how a breeze could be warm.  how a gust of wind could be gentle...nearly as soft as a whisper in your ear.  how the air hangs heavy around your shoulders.  how the sun sits lower in the sky...as if it is extending out it's rays for you to sleep on.

one of the best feelings in the whole world is falling asleep with the sun shining on your skin.  falling asleep to the hum of lawn mowers and ringing of ice cream trucks.  that's when you finally slow yourself down enough to smell the fresh cut grass and the salty air...that's when you feel each strand of your hair stuck to your skin as you turn your head to shield your eyes from the sun.

you know that feeling when you have soaked up as much sun as possible that you decide to cool off in the pool or the ocean......and that first time your toe hits the water it like, shocks your entire system because it's so cold compared to the heat of your body?  it's the kind of cold that feels good.

i could stand in that moment forever.  with my feet burried in the sand, ankle deep in water, watching the waves come in and go out.

i could sit forever on the edge of my parents pool with my legs dangling over the edge- my feet submerged in water.

when you live in the city- you miss summer.  or you experience a different kind of summer.

i kind of miss the sound of the crickets as i fall asleep at night.  i kind of miss a sky full of stars.  i kind of miss meals on the deck and afternoons in the grass.

maybe i won't live here forever.  maybe i just won't

all i can do is just pour some tea for two and speak my point of view but it's not sane

i woke up several times during the night-- i love it when it's too hot to sleep.

in the dark- everything happens in slow motion.

the ticking of the clock-- minutes feel like hours.

i relax into it.

knowing i don't have to wake up

until the sun wakes up

and right now

it's the moon's turn to shine.

i watch the cat tip toe along the edge of the shadow of the doorway on the floor of our bedroom.

he stretches out like the heat  stretched out over me

and relaxes into the thick air

i consider getting up

to pour a glass of cold fresh squeezed lemonade

but the rise and fall of my stomach as i breathe is the only movement that breaks the heavy stillness

so i decide to keep it that way.

heat.

he has taken off his shirt and i can see the stickiness on his skin, illuminated by the street light or the moonlight-- or both.

i trace the outline of the vein on his arm but he does not stir.

i am content.

there are hours to go before i have to wake up.

right now the world is all mine.

the low hum of the refrigerator lulls me in and out of one dream to the next.

i think of the way grass feels under my bare feet and wonder if i still know how to make a dandelion wreath-- i think of that day when i was 7 and we got a pool in our backyard and i'm remembering how it smelled.  i think of the ocean and count 103 days until i am back on the beach.

water.

heat.

i love it when it's too hot to sleep.

she'll let you in her heart if you've got a hammer and a vice- but into her secret garden don't think twice

she doesn't
wear
dresses

not usually

she thinks
that they are
too
much
trouble

she doesn't like
blue jeans
but
she wears them
sometimes
just so she has a place
to write down
her
thoughts

they come to her
at random moments
throughout
her
busy
day

she thinks she will
remember
but
she
never
does

when she wears
black jeans
she always forgets
and she
always
wears black jeans
with 5 pockets

she doesn't really
hold onto things
that are
important

she doesn't really
hold on
to
anything

it's like
nothing
really
matters
to her

she'll tell you it's not true
but
you kind of know
that
it
is

you may have even noticed
that she is
always
slightly
zoned out
like she is
here
but her life
is happening
somewhere
else

she is a wall away
too far
to talk

so i will cry a thousand miles if that's what it takes to sail you home

i wish i could go to a ballet class right now.

i'm remembering the smell of my broken in ballet slippers with the split sole and all of the holes.  the way they feel on my feet, kind of sticky and like- perfect.

not that i would (go to a ballet class right now)-- i don't think i could stand the sight of myself in a leotard or even with my hair pulled back.  i couldn't look at myself in the mirror like that.  reflecting back to me everything i don't want to deal with now.

i wish i could go to a ballet class right now-- only in my ripped black tights and my cut off black sweatpants with the holes in the crotch and a hoodie.  let me disappear in my clothes.  let me disappear.

it doesn't matter where i sleep or where my things are-- there are only two places that i could ever call home and one of them is the ballet barre.

the ballet barre smells like an old bank filled with dirty pennies-- but i'm gripping onto it for dear life.  not because i have to, but because it's the only stable thing i know.

i can close my eyes and turn off my mind as my body just works ......demi demi grande and stretch.  remember that?  it doesn't matter how many years its been.......remember that?

i wish i could go to a ballet class right now.  i don't want anybody to see me or even talk to me.  just pretend i'm not even here.  i want to walk in, find my spot at the barre and just start moving through the tears until i can  feel my entire body again.  

i know.  it's my fault and i know it, okay?  i fucked up.  i gave up.  i gave it all away.

but i can come back right?

i mean, can i?

i can't promise i'll stay.  i can't even promise i'll be nice.  i might even use you, you know?  because i'm lost.

and like,

i don't have anywhere else to go.

demi, demi, grande and stretch  

she's trouble in a word get closer to the fire

in my head

i started my day with a glass of red wine

malbec

i'm wearing the same clothes but not 

this

coat

my hair is straighter, neater in this picture than in reality

i'm in a lonely restaurant

with 

black and white tiles on the floor- the white ones are cracked and dirty

like me

the mirrors on the wall are covered in dust

and the velvet drapes are

a little to heavy

for this time of year

i drink my wine

and write a letter in longhand script

that i will 

probably 

never 

send

i look out the window

for long periods of time

because i feel out of sorts

here.

i focus on the corners

of the window

of the room

where the dust and dirt gather

and wonder if it is possible

to ever

make them look clean

the old standards

that i hear in the background

remind me of days

when men smoked cigars and wore trench coasts

and women wore silk stockings with seams up the back

for a moment i feel like i'm in an old movie

the wanderers

i feel more comfortable

when i don't have a plan

less anxious

when i don't have  a destination

i'm just a back street

behind the scenes

kind of girl

and maybe i don't want you to know me

i am extraordinary if you'd ever get to know me

do you ever wish that you knew someone?  not just their name and where they live and what they do- but like who they are?

do you ever wonder what it would be like if you were part of their world- receiving their calls, quick stops at coffee shops, parties, and funny texts.....

is there someone that you wish was not so far away?

just wondering

how do you know everything i'm about to say, am i that obvious

hi xxx xxxxxx

you probably don't remember me but  i was in your writing class @ xxx in 19xx.  

yeah.  you probably don't remember me but i remember you.

something you wrote about something that i wrote, changed my entire life.  

5 little words.

i never finished it

(the story i was writing)

i never finished writing because

i never finished 

falling

down

(wait, i can't send you a letter like this-- all fucked up and messy, can i?  i can't write by the rules

capitals, periods, punctuation-- sentences and paragraphs are not for me

i will break my lines

where i see fit.

but you know that so i guess i can just keep going, right?)

i mean, i was a mess when you knew me

at 17

and 

i am surely a bigger mess now

(ok, i'm totally not sending this letter)

anyway-- so like, even though i never finished it

(the story)

i kept writing, you know, my thoughts or whatever.......

and in my head i kind of intended for it to become a book someday 

yeah

i don't know why i would need to write you a letter

15 years later

that would just be weird........considering

the situation

but like, every time i sit down to write, i can't 

when i think of you, i picture you standing in that yellow room

on the second floor

with the graffiti(ed) couch

and the phrase taped to the wall that i can't recall but know really irritated me.

i picture you standing there in your 

cardigans

and 

square toed shoes

standing with your legs spread so fucking wide

it was unreal

how you stood like that and read our work back to us

in your 

billy corgan 

voice.

yeah.  

i kept all of the notes you wrote in the margins of my life

i kept them all

because whether or not you knew it

i showed you all

of my

broken

little

pieces

and you 

asked me

if they had a voice

what would they say.

yeah.

i will never send this letter.  and i will never write that book.

but if i did

i would want you to read it

 

so that you can see 

how those 5 words that you wrote to me

changed my life

you can take me down with just one single blow

this morning when i was walking there i said

it's like entering a war zone

unarmed

knowing everyone else has guns and missiles

and you know they're aiming for you

and so your whole day is like

stressful

because you're dodging one attack after another

and he said

yeah

nobody should have to live like that

and i said

yeah

but

i

do