Copper Instead Of Bronze.

i'm home for break.
and i'm already feeling the urge to go back to the city.
there's too many memories here,
and i'm trying to forget and focus
on now,
not on past.

i can hold my breath
i can bite my tongue
i can stay awake for days
if that's what you want
be your number one

i did the right thing,
but there's a deep knife still wrenched inside my gut.
that feeling,
that fire,
that contraction, that pain
where someone you care about hurts.
it's a feeling that comes after a thought.
"i just want you to be okay."
and i sit and worry with that thought and feeling.
even though i did the right thing,
i still feel guilty about what may or may not come to pass.

i can fake a smile
i can force a laugh
i can dance and play the part
if that's what you ask
give you all i am

i can do it

but i'm only human

it's true; i'm only human.
and it's not like i've been a robot throughout this whole thing.
as much as i want to help, to be that holding hand,
i have to think about my hands first.
it's sounds selfish, but i think now it's finally time to be.
being selfless all your life isn't healthy.

this post is obviously a pointed one.
they all usually are.
you just have to read between the lines to catch a glimpse.
really study the words to grab a meaning.
(unless you know me pretty well, then i'm an open book.)
an open book that's only human.

but i'm only human
i bleed when i fall down
i'm only human
i crash and i break down
your words in my head, knives in my heart
you build me up then i fall apart
'cause i'm only human

i don't want to be the treasure inside the box that people have to search for years to find.
i want to be the ordinary charm that the girl wears everyday,
not the brooch that sits underneath the glass day after day.
either use the key or give it to someone else.
because i'm getting tired of waiting.
i'm patient, but my head is screaming.
and has been,
for a long time.

i can take so much
until i've had enough

i've had enough.
i care,
and i've been through wear and tear,
but it's time to get patched up.
and i know there will be a wound soon, my dear.
so deep it feels like you can burst.
it may seem like the worst,
but you can get through this.
just like i've gotten through mine.

it's time that both of us get patched up.
because this infection needs to stop.

if you find it to be any kind of real;
you know that we must heal.

with love and light,
Eve Morgan

Better Than Fine.

i'm not feeling it.
i'm not feeling the swarthy image of bliss and happiness that i should be feeling,
right here, right now.
my father said that these were the best times of his life.
at first, i thought, "what the hell is wrong with him? you can always improve your life."
then i realized,
why the hell aren't i improving mine, now?
why aren't these my best years, like they were my fathers?
we're just different people, i guess.

i don't know if you notice anything different
it's getting dark and it's getting cold and the nights are getting long
and i don't know if you even notice at all
that i'm long gone

i set my standards high.
for everything, basically.
my grades,
my taste in men,
and even my taste in friends.
but nobody's perfect.
they aren't, and neither am i.
so why must i feel a need to perfect when perfection has never, nor will be, in grasp?

i have a habit to keep thinking of past.
or at least my subconscious does when i fall asleep at night.
and mind you, it's not bright.
maybe the memories were, but it just reminds you that the present is dimmer.
maybe it's a nice shade of red, but it doesn't give off as much light.

and the things that keep us apart, keep me alive
and the things that keep me alive,
keep me alone
this is the thing

i wish i could just be thoughtful and say what i was thinking all the time.
but i don't like name-calling, so i never do.
with the only person i want to tell this to,
name-calling doesn't even worry my mind;
but you running away might.

"i'm fine, just like i always am."
stealing that line from someone who used to know me,
and projecting it towards someone that does.
i am fine.
i am balanced and kind, if you get the reference.
but i want to be better than fine.

i don't know if you notice anything different
like the trees on the leaves or my clothes all over the floor
and i don't know if you even notice at all

 but how can you notice when you're not even here?
i think that's my biggest fear.
although i have high standards, i have no idea of yours.
i am trusting, but i'm holding back.
because i don't want to lose.
not again.

i never have a point to these.
i just feel like i'm not feeling.
and you may not know what that means,
and i wish i could tell you.
but the fear;
the fear that's in here,
stops me.
and leaves it hard to breathe.

i'm tired of the name-calling and the running.
and to me, you still haven't run.
and i'm perplexed and still trying to figure out why that is.
have you, yet?

and the things that keep us apart, keep me alive
and the things that keep me alive,
keep me alone
this is the thing

and i don't know if you even notice at all
this is the thing

with love and light,
Eve Morgan.

Eyes of a Tourist.

i'm a little bit drained.
i'm a little bit maimed.
i'm a little bit sane.
but overall, i am grave.

there's a murder of crows flying high over head
over this desolate road,
i sometimes forget,
about you and i

i'm struggling.
and it's weird to think: i don't remember never struggling,
but i don't remember struggling so much,
even though in the past i did.
i'm at a good place with good people and good values are set in place for me.
there's nothing i should be complaining about.
i should be jumping for joy to be so lucky for this miraculous life!
.. so why am i dragging the tons instead of holding them up high?

and i'll fight to survive
through this thunderous life
when we're not side by side

i've been feeling like a drone for a while now with no real reason why.
then a week ago, i was reminded that i'm not just a puppet,
but a person with so much worth.
"you're so talented, Eve. More than you think."
for the first time in a while, i believed that.
and i also got to step back.
look at where i was through the eyes of a visitor, of a tourist,
and i couldn't help but smile.
as i watched the sunset over those familiar buildings, i knew.
God put me right where i need to be.
for the first time since i moved here,
i felt like i belonged.

i've never felt like that anywhere.

i'm roaming through the hills,
all alone
trying to find my direction home
a question of space
a matter of time
i follow the stars into the first light

when i reminisce, i feel worth.
but when i look at today, i feel worse.
i'm where i'm supposed to be,
but i don't feel like me.

i feel like people i trust bring me out to dry.
but i'm beginning to build walls,
so i'm standing in the rain, drenched.
wishing that the storm would pass,
and i could lie in the sun,
daydreaming in the grass.

i don't know what drugs to take
to successfully alter the state,
that my mind has been as of late
something that is eating away at my brain
and it's standing in plain view,
everyone can see
that it looks just like me

but i got to keep the fight going.
because these seas are rough.
i know i'm not that tough,
but i don't plan on getting soaked again.

i just need to remember.
i mean, it's December,
isn't it time to cheer up anyway?
i guess i'll try to keep the darkness at bay.
so with that i say,
have a good day,
because those are hard to come by.

with love and light,
Eve Morgan

Balancing Nostalgia.

you have amazing eyes
the right one's suspicious and the left one
wants my love
i don't care what you think i've done
i know i never meant no harm to anyone
i know i never meant no harm at all

i knew that the balance would eventually be uneven.
i didn't think it would happen this quickly, however.
but life doesn't stop, it never does.
no matter how much i wish it to.

i would consider myself a nostalgic person.
i mean, hell, i'm putting up pictures on my wall of my friends, myself and places i've been.
and because of recent up-comings, i really want to rip the wall down.
not that i don't love the people in those photographs,
i just don't want to be reminded anymore.

is it wrong or only half right?
you want me gone, but i stay the night
when i see you in the half light
it feels so fine
everybody seems to wonder why
but i go back to you every time

i feel like i care too much.
and that's why now it's extremely important to me who is in my life.
whom i choose to stay and whom i let go.
because many a time before,
the ones i love left.
and i couldn't even predict, nor did i ever know.
that someone so special,
could just slip through your fingers like silk.
or like running water.

i've been reminded recently about someone with a big impact.
one that has changed my perspective on things like the world,
or the sense of responsibility,
and also parts of my sense of humor.

it's been a long time.
and that person that i spent so much time thinking about and worrying about and caring about,
isn't here anymore.
not that he's just in a different destination,
but that so much change has waved over him,
waved over me,
the soul i've grown to know so well,
is either succumbed so far into this shell that is your face now,
or it's disappeared entirely.
replaced with a similar, yet completely different you.

you have amazing eyes
the right one's suspicious and the left one wants my love
you know, i never meant no harm at all

change is everywhere, and i'm very aware of that.
but naivety comes into play here.
i did not expect to still feel.
but at the same time,
i knew i always would care. and you knew that too.
that's why you disappeared.
and left me here - the unwanted girl.
the girl who cared to much about others.
and too much about you.

but see, you are misreading me.
i don't care about you.
i care about the one i knew before.
and i worry now and react now,
because you hold his face.
and i'm really hoping, really praying,
that the one i know is still inside.
because i can handle the leaving.
i can handle the girl that holds my former title.
but the knowledge that whom i loved is gone..
that's just like handling death.
and i've never been good with that.

so do me a favor,
and don't be dead.

you're a bit broken and i'm a bit broken

i don't care what you think i've done
cuz i never meant no harm at all
no, i never meant no harm to anyone

this is a post about a girl who cares too much.
yet,
although you're different,
so am i.
because i don't want to care anymore.
and that wish has never before surfaced,
but because of you, the tipping point, it has.

no fucks given.

The Tipping Point.

good arms vs bad arms will win hands down
they are built to hold and fit,
look how far they go round
you don't need these now that you've found another pair
and the difference is astounding, i should expect

i really should be sleeping because if i don't now then my morning of brewing and steaming and grounding and blending and handing out pastries tomorrow will be much more strenuous that it would if i actually got the sleep i needed.
but i cannot sleep knowing that i'd waste a moment to write when i have something on my mind.
so here i am, ready to be an achy-breaky rusted machine on legs tomorrow just to write.

i want to say that i am at a good spot.
like that point when i've reached the peak and i could just sit for hours, staring at the view.
but at the same time, with this elated feeling of solace, i feel like there is a tipping point.
that steadily things will go downhill, just as the climb upwards felt a couple weeks ago.
i don't want to believe that.
i want to think that there are many more mountains next to this one i've just conquered that are ready for me to walk. to step upwards instead of strolling downwards at a speedy rate.

i decided this decision some six months ago
so i'll stick to my guns, but from now on, it's war
i am armed with the past, and the will, and a brick

so leave the rest at arms length

i didn't start this, however, to rant about hills and mountains and climbing and falling and getting back up.
i just feel like for the first time, i am not dependent on others as much as i used to be.
i know that's not necessarily a bad thing, but as the climbing is steeper, so is the struggle to stay afloat.
and i don't mind admitting that sometimes i need the push or the hand to help me forward.
i had those hands;
but i've had them before.
and they've disappeared on me too.

i'm beginning to see why trust is a large issue for a lot of people.
and that attachment is sometimes a mistake.
i've learned that time and time again.
and i'm realizing that as much as i wish this was a perfect world,
i cannot be attached.
and maybe that's the tipping point for me.
i'm content, alone on this mountain with the view.
but i don't want just my eyes to see it, i want you to see it, too.
i want to be here with you.

so leave the rest at arms length
keep your naked flesh under your favorite dress
leave the rest at arms length
steer clear of the past, girl, run, run away

i wrote on one of my many walks
"should i keep living by fear and holding tightly onto hope?
or should i let go of the rope?
even if i fall, i'll still bet it all.
cuz all of this 'maybe';
it's all on you."

i wish to have no fear.
and i want to tell you i want you here.
but that fear,
keeps me separate from attachment.
and i can already feel it seeding,
feel it breathing,
almost as if it's about to come alive.

i want to be successful on my own.
i don't need that attachment or that trust, only to have it taken away from me.
i've worked too hard this time to deserve that again.
so are you my friend?
cuz if so, then stay.
don't keep using this bullshit, this sense of "complicated",
just to run away.

leave the rest at arms length
i'm not ready to see you this happy
leave the rest at arms length
i'm still in love with you, can't admit it yet

if you're giving me your hand,
don't tease and take it back.
cuz if you do, i don't think
i'll ever ask for help up again.

Nightowls and Earlybirds.

this is the first blog post that i've made since the school year started.
hell, since summer.
but a colleague (aka. my english professor) told me how "bomb" and "tight" my work was, so I'm trying to get back into it.
and since my mind has been confusing to me lately, i'm writing more for the sake of organizing it.

school has begun.
i've been here for two months and started a new job;
a job that requires my early eyes rather than my more attentive late ones.
and man, the coffee isn't helping my wires run right anymore.
at least, not like they did when the moon was out or when the sun was low.
the electricity that is my body isn't brightening the light bulb,
but dimming it so that it's barely on;
so that my early-bird eyes can see
and my night-owl ones can rest.

i miss my night-owl friends.

i went to the beach on saturday, stuck my toes in the sand,
and just breathed.
i thought of life, staring at the glimmering waters and the clouds rolling in,
and remembered that there's so much to begin.
as well as stick to.
i'm glad for the things i have, i realized, sitting on that soft floor,
wrapped in a blanket, i'm reminded of what i'm searching for.

i realized recently that i've already found it.
however, there's so much work to be done and that something has got to wait.
that's what i've been told before, and that's what i will do again.
i'll wait.

but waiting has it's limits.
and my limits are growing, and unlike someone i know, i can't stretch them out.
but i want to.
i want to make you proud.
i want to make thems proud.
i want to make myself proud.

i'm the person that's used to handling everything, carrying all the weight and still being strong enough to lift more the next day.
for a long time, i've carried other peoples weight, but now that it's my own..
it's so much more to hold than i ever thought possible.

the thing keeping me going is support.
support from Castro Valley,
Dublin,
San Diego,
and L.A.
all the different places, all those different faces,
makes me think that San Francisco is a destination,
not a permanent home.

i don't mind that i have to roam.
because i'm the kind of girl that can fit in anywhere, right?

i'm afraid of breaking down.
of collapsing from the weight and being buried alive.
i want to survive, and there's a hand there, ready to pick me back up.
and man, i hope it's yours.

Letting Go.

you and i were meant to be
ain't no doubt about it
no way to hide that sort of thing
not waiting for something better
ain't nothing better worth imagining

being home for a month has been very...
interesting.
that's a word i use when i don't really know how to explain
how i feel about the subject.

summer so far has had it's ups and downs.
yet, with all the happy thoughts
i feel like i'm stuck in this tiny pool
struggling to keep afloat
all the while, you or anyone else
is pointing at me and laughing
before jumping into the endless sea.

san francisco was my endless sea.
and when i am easily thrown
back into this pool of you
this pool of "small town"
i struggle, even though only a little less than a year ago
i was content
and weightless.

i keep on running
i'm building bridges that i know you never wanted
look for my heart
you stole it away

listen, i want you to burn my bridges down
i said, i want you to burn my bridges down

i don't want to stand on the bridge waiting for you anymore.
you've pointed out to me more times than not that you won't make it,
that this fire i carry around
isn't worth staying lit.
it should have been put out long ago.

set me on fire

send this out to sea
send it where you wanted
you can take it no for no or not at all
there's no filling up your spaces with fictionary places
imaginary faces, they don't work at all

i need to stop living by memories.
but should live by moments
because in a life
that's all we keep precious anyway.
no one really remembers every
bit
and piece
and chunks
that make up your life.

i want to remember the things that put smiles on my face,
not things that make my eyes water.
not memories that will torment me,
or hope that will keep getting beaten and pushed around,
until i'm not strong enough to stand.

i know i'm strong enough to get back up.
and the more and more i think of you,
the more i know that you won't even fight.
because you don't even wish to be stronger
or even brave enough
to face your problems head on.

as the ticking clock tocks and ticks,
the more i know that to be true.
and it just makes me realize

i'm a lot stronger than you.

and that's what gets me back up.

i want you to burn my bridges down
i said, i want you to burn my bridges down
set me on fire

eve morgan.

My Mind is a Camera.

there was a time
where i used to look into my father's eyes
in a happy home
i was a king, i had a golden throne

my dreams are beginning to bug me again
because they involve people and things that are either
non existent
or used to be but now fade into the background of my life
like fog on windows,
hiding in the corners when the sun streams in.

real sleep seems to be hard to find lately.
even with the smell of delicious caffeine
and the glazed smile i get breathing in the aroma,
i still want to just fall back asleep
always in a dreamland,
not the reality that i live everyday.

those days are gone
now the memory's on the wall
i hear the songs
from places where i was born

i keep referring in every post
as if my mind was a machine, and a piece,
the cog that just doesn't seem to turn anymore,
breaks me down
or moves me too quickly
my mind whirring every second
every moment
until i eventually shut down,
the machine dead and overused.

i need to stop referring to myself as a machine.
i need to feel again.

but maybe the reason why i do is because machines have parts.
and i know for a fact that a part of me is missing,
gone and buried.
and whenever i try to finish the puzzle that is myself,
i'm always missing a piece or two.

i get frustrated when i can't finish anything.

upon the hill across a blue lake
that's where i had my first heartbreak
i still remember how it all changed
my father said,

"don't you worry, child
see heaven's got a plan for you
don't you worry, don't you worry now"

this year is ending way too fast
and as much as i want to return to the twinkle lights
the splashes in the swimming pool
and the girl who snorts,
i just keep picturing moments here.
so many fresh moments that i have kept
here in this small, claustrophobic dorm room.

i was certain that i wouldn't even look back.
at least that is how i felt a few months ago.
but my focuses are not on him now,
not on her now,
not even on me now.

the camera lens is zooming in on the billions of clippings on the wall
the super-villan impressions the boy made to make the girl stop crying,
the way his eyes peered at her happy, sleepy ones at quarter to sunrise.
loud obnoxious singing,
many dear and different laughs,
fights, frustrations, and frequent kit kat runs...
it's snapping pictures of it all.

this year has been lifetimes.
and i'm not sure if the machine
is still the same dangly earring'd girl
that you have come to know,
the same girl you came to love,
and the same girl you let go.

don't you worry, child
see heaven's got a plan for you
don't you worry, don't you worry now

see heaven's got a plan for you

i don't even remember what this piece was supposed to be about.
that always happens, i guess.

i'm just sitting here in "indie" clothing,
hair messed up and wet,
it's 5:43 and my roommate is asleep
and i just don't know how to end this.

i guess i don't really know how to end anything.
i always make it the other person's job.
so i won't have to deal
with the pain
or loss
or just the knowledge that it is over.

it's over.
and i think i'm ready
to forgive myself now.

We'll All Float On, Alright

lately i've been losing sleep
dreaming about the things that we could be
but baby, i've been playing hard
no more counting dollars
we'll be counting stars

music has always been a helping hand in all of this.
but lately, i've been asking myself:
what is "all this"?
isn't it just life?

i read an old post
and questioned all the statements about the connections i had with other peoples problems
and that mine alone was stronger than theirs.
or at least was on the same level.
but now,
three months later,
everyone's problems seem to be lessening.
at least, i believe they are happier.

i figured that the connections would stay, that when their problems would grow heavier, so would my pack.
or that when the weights turned into feathers, mine would too.
but i'm still carrying rocks on my back,
lugging behind in line
while everyone else is running ahead.
shouting the joy out of their lungs.

i see this life like a swinging vine
swing my heart across the line
and my face is flashing signs
seek it out and you shall find

oh, but i'm not that old
young, but i'm not that bold
i don't think the world is sold
i'm just doing what we're told

i'm beginning to believe that the person staring back in the mirror
doesn't match my face anymore.
and i'm growing scared.
and i've never been scared of my own face before.

i'm still trying to believe in a better outcome.
i'm still hoping to retain the beliefs i had, the morals that i created, and the difference between right and wrong that i concocted so that i wouldn't feel
like this.

i want this summer to be a place of reflection
or of remembrance.
remembrance of who i am.
i don't want to doubt.

i want to cast away the sand bags out of my hot air balloon
and just lift off into the sky.

i deserve to leave behind some of the weight.
i know it'll be okay.
i always know.

i guess that's my gift.
and a curse.

but it's all about how you use it.

lately i've been losing sleep
dreaming about the things that we could be
but baby, i've been playing hard
no more counting dollars
we'll be counting stars

Aware and Alive.

the world was once in my hands
but it's yours again
and i have seen this happen more than once before
i have looked around me
over and over again
searching for something that is beautiful

have i found the thing that i desire?

i woke up this morning and i knew i was alive.
but that wasn't the only thing.
i woke up this morning aware.
aware of not just my life,
but others as well,
and everything surrounding both mine
and theirs
connected by outside figures
giving us a bond
that would not break.

i've set sail on the winds of change,
but these winds confuse me
and i desperately am searching for land
but all around me there is an endless sea.

i've never been so confused.

have i been stuck here in the same place?
have you been there all this time?
have you been up in the clouds?
i need you to come down

i have never been a believer in true love
or that people never leave and go.
but it's been a surprise
when i get that cranking feeling inside my gut in the morning,
or at night.
its twisting and turning
pulling and pushing
tugging
and i know that it comes back to something else.
someone else.

i've never thought that i could feel someone.
especially when they are not there.
i get scared for no reason,
but i know its not my fear.
i get anxious about nothing,
but it's not my nervousness that washes onto my ship.
my ship is still steady,
but the sea rocks it every now and again.

i get the feeling that one day,
it'll knock me overboard.
not so i'll drown.
but so i can stay in one place.
and be swimming again in the arms of the sea.

my life was once in my hands
but now its yours again
and i know i have never felt like this before
the times you have found me
over and over again
giving me something that is beautiful
have i found the thing that i desire?

i woke up this morning aware and alive.
are you my sea?

Wings.

i want to fly
can you take me far away
give me a star to reach for
tell me what it takes

i stand here alone.
my own two feet,
in these leather boots.
i look out, wondering about everyone i knew.
everyone i met.
i wonder where they are now,
and as names pass through my mind like falling leaves in winter,
i wonder,
has my name ever been in someone else's tree?

i feel alone for the very first time in a long time.
and right now, today,
it's different.
it doesn't feel like a bad thing.
it's something that forces me to learn.
learn about life,
about love,
about capacity,
and about strength.

i'm stronger from the events that have come to pass.
and i know that.
even in the struggles and the attempts to fulfill a day,
i know who i am.

"i know that you're lonely, and that you want him to instill value in your life temporarily, but don't."

excuse me?
nobody can define who i am and how i feel.
especially not you.
i just find it funny that from a couple months, you make assumptions,
that you find to be truth.
you never even consider the other option.
and i guess i kinda understand that.

but assumptions lead to judgment.
and dear, i really don't need any more of that right now.

i want to fly
can you take me far away
give me a star to reach for
tell me what it takes
and i'll go so high
i'll go so high
my feet won't touch the ground
stitch my wings
and pull the strings

i'm trying so hard to just forget.
to just cut out that year of my life,
and move on.
but that just falls into a category of regret.
and honey, i don't regret anything.
you of all people should know that.

my decisions are my own.
no one can tell me different.
so that's where my respect for others come in.
because i cannot do anything to change their choices.
or their decisions.
it's not my job.
my job is to be around in spite of those decisions.
maybe to influence those choices, but not to judge them.

that's the difference between her and me.
that's why i get support.

i need to focus on what makes me happy.
but man, i need a rest.
this is exhausting my engine,
and i still need to drive down this road.
because there is no turning back.

change is my worst fear.
but i'm driving headlong into it.
shouldn't you?

i want to fly
can you take me far away
give me a star to reach for
tell me what it takes
and i'll go so high
i'll go so high
my feet won't touch the ground
stitch my wings
and pull the strings
i bought these dreams
that all fall down

i bought these dreams
that all fall down.

It's Not Just You.

loss.
that word is over-used, and over-exaggerated,
and sometimes
it's used as an excuse or as something that meaninglessly slips from your lips.
when i think of that word,
i know it's not something to be under-exaggerated.
or used lightly.

everybody goes through loss.
it's just what you lose that makes you different from the people around you.
but loss is never a good thing.
at least in my opinion.

it's getting harder wake up,
and even harder to fall asleep.

i always thought of myself as an independent person.
but the more and more i'm alone with myself,
the worse it gets for me.
as much as i love myself,
my mind cannot be trusted.

it still rings.
who else have you lost besides me?

i try to cut out my thoughts with music.
loud, annoying guys talking instead of singing.
because that's the only thing that will shut me up.
and i'm so tired of listening to my brain.

i'm living like it's just any other day.
living it like the word "loss" isn't in my vocabulary.
but it is.
i just don't want to face it.

i just want the issues to stop.
the "loss" of people and of friendships and relationships.
i want them to just fucking stop.
i know i'm strong, love.
but that doesn't mean you have to leave.
go just to prove it.
depart just to see if i can handle it.

i can handle anything you throw.
or whomever throws.
i've dealt with loss before.

it's just this time,
am i handling it the right way?

Day of All Days.

i told myself that today i wouldn't think about it.
i especially mentioned that i shouldn't blog about it.
but i didn't listen.
i hardly ever listen to myself anymore,
so why follow now?

i woke up this morning,
looked to my side,
and the thing pressing into my back,
was not a person but just an open ipad,
dead from being on all night.

as i take a sip of my chai tea out of my ridiculously large mug,
i more and more know less what to say.
because whatever i say,
you'll read.
and i don't want you to see everything and know everything anymore.
because i hardly know anything,
so why do you get to?

i don't want to tell you that i miss you every goddamned day.
i don't want to convey this empty, dark feeling i get every time my mind travels backwards.
and trust me, it does that a lot.
i can't control it.

i just didn't expect to be here.
i didn't expect to be losing instead of gaining.
but i should've known.
i should've expected.

because when does happiness ever last so long anyway?

anyway, i'm getting side-tracked from my point.
my point is this stupid day.
this stupid date keeps distracting me,
because i know that it is meaningless.
it's just another wednesday.

but it keeps coming.
all of my imagining of this day,
definitely was not this.

i never even wanted to consider.
consider the bad things.
consider the consequences,
from my oh-so-happy actions.

i don't want to consider, or wonder
never touching those lips again.
or feeling the wind against my ear.

thinking about that just helps with the rivers.
i feel like a sponge,
just soaking it all in,
and every now and again,
i get dry.

i don't want to be a sponge.
i just want to be the girl again.
the one closest.
not farthest.
not invisible.

i've been invisible for too long.
and this day just reminds me of the one time,
where i was seen.

and called beautiful.

Everyone is Made of Glass.

i don't know when everything began.
as i observe, i keep wondering,
when did everyone's lives become so sad and empty?

i hate sitting here,
trying to focus on my own life,
when the people closest to me,
are living the same hell that i am.
just in different circumstances.

i just want to tell her that things will be better,
and that i'm there for her.
but i have,
and she knows.
but it doesn't help like it used to.

i've been so lost in this war,
war of love,
battles for happiness,
that i forget that i should be fighting the battles for them,
not for my own benefit.

because when they aren't happy,
how the fuck can i be?

i want to be closer to C.
because with everything, she seems the most stable.
but hell, i seem to find myself stable,
so that definition seems pretty meaningless, now.

it's a lot harder to comfort someone who is on your computer,
rather than in person.
honey, i never want to see you cry,
so please be brave and keep it in.
i believe in you.
so please be strong and believe in that too.

i wanna just drive to SD,
and hug M until it hurts.
i miss so many people,
and none of the people i love are here.

i'm beginning to understand the numb feeling you were talking about.
but i don't want to break promises,
that's why this post is here.

we are all broken glass,
and i want to pick up the pieces.
i can't stand it when we all are shattered.

so to H, S, M, C, and G
i wish the utmost happiness,
and knowledge of my presence.
i'm here.
and willing to lend an ear,
or some simple words.
because i am so tired of sitting here just praying.

i wanna help, dammit.

so let me.

Cogs In The Machine.

i sit,
in the morning, i wake up,
take in my surroundings,
push my aching body at a 90 degree angle,
and i sit.

i've been quite reflective these past 150 hours.
my brain is a machine, but for these last 7 days,
some cog in the machine has been defective.
overly-exerted.
and overly-exhausted.

i'm hardly ever in the position where i find myself lost.
or confused about what i need to do.
being back in one of the biggest places again,
feels foreign, just like the first day.

drowning myself in music will not help.
repeating and reiterating my problems will not help.
but that's the funny thing.
i want to help.
that's what i do.
that's my job.

i feel like i understand the little girl with the hip problems who says,
"don't you hate it when it's out of your control? that you tried your hardest but it wasn't enough?"

i'm trying my hardest.
i'm fucking trying to be my own person and "live my own life", and focus on the things that matter.
but the things that "aren't supposed to matter", do.
the machine is defective.
i'm defected.
because the things that should matter to me don't.
and the things that do,
are out of my control.

so, in order to keep the wheels turning,
the engine on,
and the electricity currently running,
i sit.
i look, pause, and look again.

i'm reminded everywhere even where there is no sign.
and the more i try, the more there is.
the more i pretend,
the more empty and hollow it gets inside my head.

and i promised myself to never empty again.

the only thing that helps,
is writing.
and the more i feel that way, the happier i get.
because out of all of this,
all the bullshit and wondering and hoping and admitting and repeating,
all of this fucked up feelings instead my head,
at least my passion is getting a kick out of it.
at least i realize more what i'm meant to do.

i'm a writer, man.
and you know, a writer's responsibility is to be miserable, right?

dear god, i hope not.

i hope.

I Don't Know how to Title This.

i don't want to write today, but i feel like i should.
i really want to admit that i have a "writer" mind.
because that's what i've been told.
i try to tell myself this as well, that i have the excellence and contour of a writer, that calm, peaceful way of thought that they have.
i wish i could say that my mind is unique and wise and different; that i know so much because of the way i can fit my sentences together and because of how i use of words.

when i think about all of that,
i just want to cringe.
because i don't find myself to be the "all seeing eye".

i've been fighting so much to be the "writer" that people find me to be.
not to copy a sentence or letter from someone close i know, but hey, writing is all just reiterating circumstances, just with a different hand and pen. it's the same stupid words on the same stupid paper, and like all writers, i will do the same.

Dear Fight,
i'm not used to having my eyes open, so please stop tormenting me and let me rest.
let me be held instead of rushing around me like cold air, burning out my flame.
i'm sick of crying.
i'm sick of people trying to help, when in reality, they just keep making me remember something that i'm trying to distract myself from.
i don't want to admit the side effects to this.
but i already feel like this empty feeling, this always near tears, and this odd feeling of helplessness and hope at the same time are only a few side effects to this odd elation.
so fight, please just stop punching at me, hitting, scratching, torturing and playing with me.
because i'm tired. i want to be happy so stop preventing me from reaching that.
Sincerely,
The Pen without the Ink

i'm just a girl.
a girl that is going through the same difficulties that many have gone through.
even difficulties that her best friend has gone through.
i'm a girl that has reminders, similar to others.
reminders of the yawn when waking up in bed.
a long blue dress and a suit and tie, the tie half done and the dress at the thigh.
making giant pancakes.
watching countless episodes of The Office, but technically listening, not watching.
"frolicking" in the park around a beautiful lake.
laughing because we kept getting "gutterballs".
the butter hands.
and many more reminders still ringing in the ears of my mind.

i'm so tired.
but the most exhausting thing is waiting.
and as much i don't want to, as annoying as this is,
those reminders just make me sit.
and the future makes me stand.
and i want to believe that in 9 weeks,
i'll be able to lay down.

with the thing that really makes me happy.

We Are Not Perfect.

sitting up against the fire makes me feel warm.
not like the sun on a hot, humid day,
or the tingly feeling from taking sips of alcohol.
but i feel cozy.
i feel warm.
safe and comforting.

i feel that way with you.
i feel warm when i think about you,
and safe when i remember you holding me in your arms.

i was asked today by someone who has loved me for years,
"Do you really think that way?"
what way?
that i want to feel that same hand trace the outline of mine,
that i want to hear those same whispers in my ears,
years and years to come?

meet me there, bundles of flowers
we wait through the hours of cold
winter shall howl at the walls,
tearing down doors of time

i sit here by that warm fire,
drinking gulps and gulps of earl grey tea.
i don't want to think about the scary parts.
i want to just remember everything that made me confident,
instead of the things that make me scared.

remember when i said, "i have faith in you?"
i still do.
even when we are apart, i still know how you feel.
i remember they way your jaw shook when i held your face in my hands.
that was real.
not fake or embellishment of splitting apart.

when i hear that someone grabbed that arm,
those scary brown eyes full of love and fear pop into my brain,
leaving everything else behind.

promise me this;
you'll wait for me only,
scared of the lonely arms.

surface, far below these words

and maybe, maybe i'll come home

we talked.
i listened while you droned on,
about something i didn't want to hear about.
my heart thumped in the rhythm of every one of your words.
when my mind told me it was nothing,
my heart screamed in defiance.

yet i am still not scared.

because i know who you are.
and who you are not.

even with the stupidity, i am still reeling with feelings,
and thoughts,
about the person i know you to be.

i still have faith in who you are.
and i know He does, too.
so don't fret love, i'm still here.
through the tears and the fears,
i'm still here.

waiting for you to come home.

Cracks in the Mirror.

some might agree that it's nuts, but
have you ever walked down the street and passed a window,
and couldn't help but look at it to see your reflection?
or to look inside?
you probably didn't catch a good glimpse of how you look,
so you keep walking, hoping that there's another window,
so you can see yourself.

i just noticed myself doing that today.
i guess i didn't have enough time to look in the mirror before dropping my mother off at work.
but as i clacked each step, i looked through the 4 consecutive windows of some shop,
i saw myself.
i had this feeling of familiarity when my reflection walked alongside me.
an annoying familiarity, but recognizable all the same.

i wondered to myself if this was normal.
"am i vain?" i asked myself, hearing the clack sound against the brick sidewalk.
but i don't feel like i look in vain.
i feel like i look because i'm aware.
aware of what i myself look like and aware of other's glances.

i feel like people always need a mirror in order to see through people's eyes.
how they see you, what they think, and what you need to change about your appearance in order to change their opinion.
why do you think they say cracked mirrors are bad luck?
i feel like the crack should be recognition.
realizing that changing yourself for just appearances should not be the most important thing.
people's opinions do matter in this world.
but not solely on appearance.

they matter on dignity.
they matter on respect.
they matter on trust, individuality, and uniqueness, i bet.
so don't fret on the jeans and the hair, love
just be aware that staring at yourself only increases the number
of eyes on you a day.

i just found it weird that i keep staring at my reflection.
i never do at home.
i guess appearances matter more to people than they think, huh?