Closed doors and sarcasm

On a lonely thought, last year on this day, i had a brother and a sister. The walls now enclose vacant spaces and empty beds. The springs in my bed are the only ones that hold something still breathing in close company. Who knows my brother better than me, nobody or everybody? The sound of her voice in a receiver that told stories ended in a kitchen 4,000 miles away and made me fall and weep on stairs who miss feet. I'm just a sister who misses the brother she could have had.

The music in my room can't be loud enough

and neither can the banging on my door.

Of course, we're just playing game...

Rewinding a year

The darkness takes the sun away and the clouds take in the orange horizon under it's arm. I swear, i can taste the thoughts right from under your tongue when we kiss.

 Every time i drive by the farm, i remember the spring when i would run to your car after escaping my house. I waited in the only street light for what seemed like miles away from the closest one, until i saw the headlights of your car that would take me away. Only after our time would i get high sitting on a corn field that laid perfectly over the lights of my town at night. Running back, following the lines in the road, i sprinted in bliss, not noticing my lungs were pounding my heart right out of my chest. Perhaps it was from the consistent pace where i could have fooled myself to be traveling as fast as my girlfriends car or it could have just been the smoke that might have tanked even my rips with a saucy layer of thick white smoke, that made me lose my heart to an adrenaline rush that i was far from controlling. Thankfully, i found it again at the top of my street when i focused my eyes on the thin line that separated the mountain from the black sky. That's when i remembered the winter, not too long before, when i did the same sneaking off. That time it wasn't only from my father, but from a girl at the time i thought deserved for me to care about. A year later, guess who's not regretting it? Sneaking out of bed and into the night, was nothing less from than a thrill. Now, every mistake, you deserve like spit in your pathetic face. I made free in my own terms and once, it's okay to be bad. I've been bad, bad, bad, but it's a memory i wouldn't dare erase. If there's anything that deserves to be scratched off paper, it's your name and every thing behind it, but thankfully that's already been taken care off; it's the black build up in my chimney. I really do have so much anger and i wish i could pour it all down your throat and drown YOUR heart. Even your name irritates my ears.

"What comes is better than what came before," and i back it up with my life. Now, i can really say I'm in love.

Unfinished

I've lost most respect for most people and I've lost all respect for others. I would prefer just writing a large paragraph of consistent swearing and foal language to those who anger me, but instead I'll try to redirect that into normal sentence that won't make me seem unintelligent or crazy.

What you're all best at doing is pushing me away.

I just lost all passion and i don't feel like writing anymore.

I'm good at keeping silence.

---

Don't extract the bullshit that comes from your mind; your craziness is better left unshared.

I've never been the instigator, but to the world i can only prove

..nothing.

And what would be the point anyways?

I laugh at all of you

;not because i'm better, but because i can see right through you and your less than candid intentions.

...................i've always been a thinker.

What are you and what are you actually and did you find the difference between the two?

I love asking questions.

Lets be trampers.

Tuck your words into the pocket of my ears

Ringing in tones only i can hear

It's a foreign world

Big and small, depending in how you see it

Surfacing from the springs in my bed,

I'm made of dreams

and i want to tramp this sphere I'm not ready for.

Tramp it with you.

I'm just a little bit scared.

Wonders

Spilling words and rolling eyes; your lips locked in my mind

I'm a looker not a talker, so I'd tattoo an eye to my side

Delusional images seek realism and sanity

I'm abstract and not literal

Lids cover eyes and color,

Be my spectrum, be my light

I'm jumping bridges and walking rivers

to sand castles in your eye sky

Reflections of self are portraits in the blacks of your eyes

Irreconcilable and body shaking

I'm sorry i can't make my hands stop sweating

Soon I'll regain color in my face and my nails won't be blue

There's a bit of devil in all our waters;

a bit of hope in every awakening that doesn't make me cry

It used to hurt to wake up, to fall asleep;

everything in between

Our company turns crazy and we wonder if it's because of us

Everybody blames everybody but their own self

Well i blame myself, myself

So i don't mind if you go running out, falling out

For everybody who leaves, somebody comes

I'm swimming in the wonders of adolescents

Let me drown, it's such a beautiful feeling.

------

I couldn't tell if it was because i was high or if it was because i was light headed; practically feather weigh. My body sank into the color spectrum blanket wrapped around its solid seat and right there, i was taken away...

I've never hated winter this much;

Spring is a constant reminder of you.

Trance

Disarray the already stained sheets of my mind; i promise there is not room for everybody inside.

My mind is too focused on the arctic feel of her blue lips kissing mine. Every movement has its ripple effect, like clothes on its cord in the wind, sending miniature tornado's throughout the vacant spaces of air that compass my bones. Your lips feel as if they can reach the black in my lungs; the depths of what keeps my blood flowing. Rocking my own body back and forth, "it feels like there is whip cream being inserted into my shoulders, running down my arms." Her words perfectly described the icicle feeling under our skin. I inhale water, because i heard that's what you have to do, but the curtains are still breathing across the room and so is the shaking reflection in the window where i can see the sun of the room and three more outlines of its shape. We exchange words and "gentle" eyes for more than a few hours and i wonder if I'm sober...

Concrete ceilings

As far as i can see without tipping my head upwards, the world, where it meets with my eyelids, falls to my cheeks and then scrolls itself back up again. This continues in rhythm and I'm inside a spinning corona watching as the world folds and rips itself back open. The dim tinted, yellow, luminous surrounding expands itself over the field of my vision while i sit still and wonder why my hands are saturating as if emerged in snow, the white i swore i saw by the worn soles of my feet. Then i remember we are in fact, inside of a car, parked in a public garage and it couldn't possibly be snowing inside and we are certainly not in Alaska like i swore we were. Once my consistent laughter subsides, i immediately look to see if the world has returned to the way you would normally see it. Reality and i collide.

White souring free

The snow is flurried by the wind, like an abundance of cocaine scattered across a smooth wooden surfaced table and into the rush of the air, when a door slams too hard shut. Dancing in circles in front of me, i watch from a thin glass distance. I bury myself into your body, trying to keep us warm. Your car is caked in snow and inside you could find two very raw bodies, starving for warmth. The air from your lungs kept my mouth content, as the rest of my body needled in discomfort. It's the first snow of a long winter and i felt naked, buried in snow leveled with my eyes.

angry birds scatter in a flurry, causing a wild commotion in every corner of my body

i replay the words in my head

and i don't feel like smiling anymore

I'm not self absorbed-i'm angry.

We miss our company

Empty rooms; even the walls speak louder than our presence.

Amiss directions

Like trying to swallow an iceberg, i blink excessively thinking it might suppress the luminous glitter that coats the enlarged pupils of my eyes. The low temperatures canvas my raw body and my hands grip ineffectually, the remains of my work, as my sweat soaks into the shades of the paper that I've touched. I inhale only more stinging air, clogging the narrow hole of my already tight throat. I look down to see my own hand, damaging the skin of my own fingers, by violently scratching the edges of my nails into the creases of another, yet i hardly even noticed. My eyes studies distance which seamed to be stretched decades away. My mind can't company me, i feel as if it's lost all good senses. Passing crowded halls, my clear emotion is visible to anybody looking, but i feel invisible, governing the society of my own world far from where I'm actually standing. My intentions are only focused on each of the upcoming movements of my feet, seeing as i don't know know where I'm taking them, or where there taking me. I'm destination less and I'd fall at the sight of your feet, but i don't dare turn around and neither do you. In a moment, all purpose if forget and my backtracking thoughts collide with one another. Dying for the comfort of your arms, i spin circles, dodging people as if they were cars. It seemed that dangerous, every movement was fearful of contact with a body that didn't belong to you. I'd die if i were touched, yet i was searching for your feel, completely aware my stubborn feet were stumbling me in the wrong direction. I wanted you to find me, so i continued the agonizing run, walking in an amiss direction.

I can't wait to kiss you.

Memorized by innocence

Peeking through narrow holes and edgy corners, her eyes are peeled on me with an innocent smile stretched horizontally across her pale freckled face. In one hand she holds a wooden bar, tipped with a fur horse head. In the other, she anxiously paces her fingers across the worn leather wrapped around her new friends head, along with an orange six dollar price tag. My eyes were so heavy, but i was easily focused on her.  She wore a white and grey stripped sweater with light colored Levi's, which came awkwardly high above her ankles.  Her feet were tucked into dirty white vans with grey and pink plaid patterns.  I sit, tiredly, on a brown futon that does not belong to me and after a few passing minutes of playing a game of hide and seek, but with our eyes, she strolls over and sits down next to me. Brothers and gifts and holidays and cousins; the sorts of things she tells me about. Her waved and pressed red hair securely hangs down the edges of her face and along the back of her small head. Blue eyes and freckles consume her pale face. Smiles and laughter are exchanged for a few pleasurable minutes. At that age, i too would be running through ails chasing brothers. I observe as she has a tickle attack with her three year old brother, after he reveals himself sprinting towards her. Another, age of twelve, downloads her favorite song on his new cell phone. Raggedy hair and stained clothes, yet all beautifully characterized. I'm appreciating the presence of this small soul. Her voice rings in my delicate ears as i watch her restless legs spin while sitting. She rocks herself; i wonder if i would feel more secure if i were to rock myself. "Monica!" Her name was called. I watch as she sits up, curls her arms, and tucks her small head in for a hug. Surprised, i reach downwards and hug her back and watched as she galloped away. "Bye Monica!" I'm not used to hugging strangers sober...

I used to be six and in 1st grade, too.

Typical

I miss my sister.

Shameee on me.

I hate him, so please don't die tomorrow.

Ringing loops

It's funny what distance and time can do. Even 4,000 miles away i got sick of you and fell for her, although i didn't even recognize it yet. I guess it must of been your conniving actions that made my feelings spin.

"She'll wrap her sheets 'round us,

forget the sun

She'll wrap her sheets 'round us,

She leads this one"

My face is tense and my knees are bent. My bones still need to breath, but i can't make the stretch. Even my toes are numbing cold, my fingers the same. The melody vibrates in the background and my mind still rings it's loop. A turning lock can change a lot, although it really all stays the same. I always wish i could actually sing. A shinning screen does a well job in distraction, but who am i fooling? Everyone has their reasons. I am not everyone, but somebody refers to me as just that; as i do to you. I probably use the word, "but" too often, but it's relevant and it seems to do a fine job with connecting pieces of mind. I know no other way to tell you, my dreams are so haunting and I've been told i breathe too heavy. There is just so much to take in, my lungs don't have the capacity to cradle it all comfortably. It's a squeeze in these blue nailed fingers and all conciseness slips away from me. Put me to sleep and I'll say more in my dreams. My rolling eye lids tell stories; not the campfire kind. "Nonexistent races," but what are we running for? It's a thrill to be chased and I've always had this fantasy of running through woods and spinning through trees. I want a hard reason to run for; I've had one, but i froze in fear. I promise it'll be different this time around. It's been two years since it started; it seems like longer since I've changed. Cramped in my frozen fear, but now I'm dying for a reason, only because it'll look better when I'm gone. I never needed justification, but lately I'm so much sicker of the bullshit. I wouldn't of cared if i tipped over backwards in a puddled wet parking lot weeks earlier, but i would've preferred to not be seen in those conditions. Everybody has always told me i should know better; i do and i don't. I'm somewhere in between the two. Illusions with ecstasy eyes; even preparations don't stop the surprise. I always found it intriguing, all the things i could feel. My vision is beautiful, too, in a chemical state of mind. It's a bit more than curiosity. Forget the sun and capture the moon.

I'd smother your face with love from lips.

You can take anything you want from me

His soothing voice, like butter on my body, strains my ears in such a delicate way. It makes up for having to pass the time in a car with two strangers that have sadness seeping from the corner of their eyes, even seen from a back seat view. With my imagination i can be anywhere and visualize my surroundings perfectly, like a music video to the song in my ear. It's night and it's getting colder by the second, but i still refuse to close the sanded window. I'm indifferent to the cold rain drenching the skins of my face; it gives me something to feel when you're not around, so i lay low beneath these towering seats and pretend i can't be seen. Invisibility always gave me a sense of comfort when i didn't want to be found, so i build castles in air; I'm not directed by these strangers. I'd rather be lost without gas with you than be found with anybody else. Your rubber will leave our tracks on this pavement as i criticize the control of yours hands, but I've always loved the thrill of being powerless and high; or am i completely in control? Every touch you give dominates my mind while i run circles, spinning in your hair. Fingers grip scalp and I'm sinking into the sands of Spain. Like the flow of it's waters at four a.m when i can't sleep, i gaze into distant, but familiar territory. At this time of year it's just a desktop picture and under the cover of your bed; the only two places I've ever really felt safe while having lost all control. Take me over, I'll let this contingency deluge the pools of my body. I'm in the mood to discover you; i think i heard her singing. I'm saying this to you and thinking it for myself; you are her and her is you. Sometimes i forget in which way i should be speaking, but I'm never at a lose of feeling. Details used to hurt and now they only release my breathful thoughts. I watch her watch herself in the mirror, musing me perfectly, subliming ever corner of my mind. I inhale and release, my stare is stuck and my body is at ease; tranquility under covers during dawn of day. My favorite place to wake up.

Pandemonium

Our bodies spoke before our words, our hands found before our lips; my heart caught my mind by surprise. Tied up and twisted, our words were our tongues, defeating all possibility of using our intellect with vocal sounds, but instead, the pandemonium of our divvy hearts. With the moisture of my skin, i'd lather you. Similarity; what we find inside our crowded and empty bodies. Chemicals and you; you make my words flow just right. I've never been so inspired to put such busy thoughts on blank paper, i guess you're the only thing worth telling the world about! It's a transformation of creation, turn nothing into everything. SAVOR YOUR SOUL IN BETWEEN BLUE LINES AND EDGES OF YELLOW TREES, IT'S A CONSTANT REMINDER I WON'T WAKE UP IN A DREAM TO FIND THIS UNREAL. I've never felt this way before. It's November and I'm alive.

and she says her skin is thirsty...

Rapture me whole

I have such an ecstasy heart; rapturous delight.

She drew with a permanent marker, a smile on my face.

Of course i speak in imagination;

figuratively.

And i'll stick around and discover

what's hidden under the dust that keeps you from trust.

It's all beautiful.

Gray; you turn it into a cd reflection against my ceiling.

That's something you know how to do.

Every song reminds me of you,

no matter what the melody.

I fit it into you.

That's something you know how to do.

Marking margins at bottoms of beds!

I'd figure it out, but i don't necessarily want to. I'd breathe if i could, but this tension digs it's home in my chest. I lock my door and pretend it'll do the trick; it doesn't. Not a surprise. I graze your purple sweatshirt as i walk across the room, as it sits restfully on the back of my chair; hanging. I imagine it's sway, it's dance, as if your body filled it's figure. Your figure. I stop and stare. I hate this feeling, the one that i get when- i won't say it. Write it. Moving on. I used to be good at this stream of conscious ordeal, but I'm never moved on at the thought of this. Like a green highlighter staining the contents of a book I've never read and it's opened in the middle. I never do that, but i did. Perfect page. Marked my thoughts in margins; across pages. Ponder days later and don't remember why. It's always better not to remember why. I've always liked my privacy, so does this make it ironic? You wouldn't even know. Imagine what you'd like, but just because you aren't illiterate doesn't mean you aren't artificial. You bitch. Who are you? Don't pretend like you even know, 'cause if that wasn't the case, you wouldn't be wasting your pathetic breathe on these minor details of a life that doesn't involve you. Your jealousy is creepy and even you know it. I would laugh at you if i took the time to think about it. All of you. Stop reading now, 'cause  you might think I'm talking about you. You should be embarrassed; i would be. Now, i remember the tension even though i never forgot. Your lack of presence is haunting. I kind of miss you, brother.

My right hand is colder than my left; i love your wisdom.

Zestful.

I know these roads like i know the curve of you body. There are always places i want to go, but i struggle to reach. Holding me back, i extend all breathe in depths of your lungs. Provoked by tips of lips and the expression in your eyes, i move where you move. En wrapped in the mood of your stare, I'm caught up in everything you say. Ears are not always pierced to the backside of my door, but that doesn't keep the zest from shaking my spine. You're a charm to any body's soul, but I'm just as much yours as you are mine; any good life would be taken right from me if you were to walk away. It's permanently unquestionable.

Patches in October colors.

Like patches of art and pieces of a strangers mind, we are pushed against buildings invading brick walls. We set quite the show for our watchers inside of the coffee shop we hang around. Like screens, gazes through glass windows, your limp body dangles from the side of my chair while i inhale your hair and my cigarette in the same breath. Like postcards we are, like patches of characterizing art permanently sunken into cement, into bricks; sink into my heart. You are my art. Windows cracked for my polluting smoke, invade my mind like you do so well.

"I'm stuck in a web and it's hard to get out," she cries to us without tears, but instead deep eyes and a shy version of a sad smile. Met in the same park yesterday like the first day of school, you're still not doing okay. The littlest things are her biggest, they keep her alive, she lives off her music, but he won't take her dancing. I'll take my girl dancing, but I'll get shy and watch. It's not quiet my screen, not quite my beat, but she looks beautiful anyways while everyone who recognizes real beauty watches. My lovers eyes, too, are blue. Some for me and some for you. She hysterically laughs and says brown reminds her of cows, she trusted and got burned. Don't burn me please. "It's not supposed to be like that," but she's going back to college, but she won't forget all about it. I couldn't ever do it either, so just checker your hands with mine and take me for one of your rides.

 This is a favorite place to be, riding down the black chasing October colors with your fast car. Take it in while it's here, soon we'll ALL be bare branched and skinny; bare boned and lost for you, so lost for you. I'm always right when I'm with you. I'm where i want to be and there with with who i want. You're what i want.

Video killed the radio star.

"Let's be quiet now," she says in her shaking voice. I gave no reason, but she picks me out anyways. I miss that girl, i do. She's late and I'm waiting loose in my chair. The clear ray of glass in the door wouldn't be enough for me if she were to walk by. It's raining now like it was that Saturday morning. I held her like it was more. The lighting would be the same, too, if these florescent lights were off, but I'm still sitting loosely in my chair at school, chiseling creativity from pieces of my mind, missing you right now.

Be my berry, paint me blue! I'm into contradictions.

10/3/08

Driven by inspiration, I'm deprived and i blame it on conformity. I miss you like i lost myself. I'm searching, but you're still here. We're all looking for fulfilment, just like i wrote about freshman year. Our hearts are so full, so empty; empty and heavy. Floating away, evacuating poisonous environment. A stranger told you so, she told you right. You'll all get out, but maybe not tonight. In a commercial life, we need money to survive, but I'm striving on sense of wonder and SEX DRIVE. My market company is discovery; discover you, who's gonna discover me? Rise me up girl, rise me up. Get me high, we do it so well, you know we do it so well. 'Cause prize possessions come in plastic bags and brown envelopes some girl leaves in my mailbox. The rest are not possessed, BUT THEY ARE ALL STILL MINE. Yes, irony is thoughtless and sometimes unclear, but my best friend still wears a green lacy bra and I'd imagine too, sexy lingerie!

"Please the teen, they run our economy. 10 million market advertising by the time I'm 18." How did we get here? Video killed the radio star.

I won't change the same as you, i won't be your MTV. "Please excuse my hands," she says underrating instead of degrading. And another sings about no change and Tupac with a smile on her face. WHAT FESTERS IN YOUR SOUL?! Say it confidently. Be mindful as a lover and save our heavy hearts; our souls are souring free still. I like to write in irony, but let me ask you this; do you read the book or watch the movie? Dig for truth or only see what you're shown. And coming back to our friend Chris McCandless, what's your reason to escape?

That's all she wrote. It's all relative and he sings about procrastination in Chemistry class!

Make you shshshake.

10/1/08

I'm craving the knowledge and your body. I'm a thinker and a caresser. Read these words  and breathe  your skin, take it all deep within. Ink my mind and free my soul; I'm thinking bid, please take me in. I want to rock the boat, baby rock your soul. We both know that i can. My body can't keep up with my mind, but i can't be far behind. I want to make your body shake, make it shake. 

You know I can make you shake.

"It was either sink or swim for me." Another talks about radios and frequency. Is this our human decency? In control; uninfected. Do you miss what you cannot have? You were in control of me, but now it's my turn forever. You let me go, then i let you go, finally i get some god damn release. You're none existent in all corners of my mind, I'm focused again; a girl who's in love with the world. Thoughtless for you, COLD HEARTED for you. I've got new things to get me through. I'm what i thought I'd never be, future minded.

..and believe me when i say ignorance CAN be bliss. My parents, they cry, but i can't. Somehow i can't picture the bars. I release the embrace by shaking my legs. "We'll all die and go to heaven and find better teachers."

Streams.

9/26/08

Today she is noticed. Her laugh is genuine. I smile inside out while he talks about maturing minds. Her laugh is craving, digestible and I'm hungry for it. My shoes are the only ones that know where I've been. His writing is shaky, but steady when I'm high, and i still can't hear you. "Our society has dominated up until now." Who hold control?

9/29/08

I'm constantly afraid of being bombed. My past, it threatens me like we do to Iran. Who will win this war and how much will my past inflict my future? Separate the two, where's the difference between me and you? And who likes to be shot anyways? We aim for politicians and lovers. Where is my competency? I ALWAYS give probable cause, but who's really searching me besides myself? "We don't have five minutes," she says with a smile, but he's rushed anyways. Who says i like structure? Is routine hated or overly comfortable? I do know how to shut up. Do you? 

Here comes this years October, my ending September.

Call it awareness and I'll focus more. I had one, but my brother pawned it. Now i depend on my memory to remember, visualize and haunt. "Connecticut Light and Power." Where is the light and who has the power? Not everything is literal.

You're so tempting.

You're a cotton dress type of girl.

Long haired and pretty; curiosity lingers.

Touch you from a distance, pierce you with my stare,

but my mouth says it all. Or at least that's what you say.

You're a magnet to my hands. You pull me in, you know that you pull me in.

So take me while i'm here, 'cause EVERYTHING IS PRECIOUS and my hands don't lie. You know that they don't lie.

And now all blame is on you; yes, temptation won the fight.
All because curiosity lingers my lips.

Gasps of lips.

Tied up and high up.

Drags of your hair and gasps of lips.

Pull me down by my finger tips.

Is this what we came for?

We'll all be coming back for more.

Aluminum cans and dew of morning.

I couldn't tell if my bones were aching from the cold, the hard surface of the back of her car or  the combination of the two. Numerous times i stumbled on my thoughts and tossed and turned. I wondered how i got to be in such a situation, numb in the back of a car, in the field and in the night. I couldn't tell if the confusion came from within or if it was from the tightly packed cloud we were living in hours earlier. With the lights out, i couldn't ever see it come out of my mouth. Heavy eyed and lazy, drag my body around you. You're sleeping and i'm breathing, but we still weren't allowed home. I missed the comfort of my bed, but i had you next to me. I held my knees while the cold air of night cradled me. It's October and its over, but i shouldn't be allowed to be this cold. Comparing a year, today is ironic! I remembered 'cause it's ALREADY been forgotten. Wasn't it funny i scarred my arm? Now i'm skipping dances and crashing weddings. I wake up in wide open fields threatened by dew of morning and light of day. I still don't know why i wasn't in hamdon or why i even thought i cared. It's much better to wake up where windows are walls covered with fog and where rain aims for cars like hitting aluminum cans. That's all we were in; aluminum cans. Intertwining and caressing. I've always been such a caresser, but i still haven't ever gotten high in a dress. I can now say i've ran barefoot through woods and frost-bitting grass, just to get to a party that looked better than mine. I waved to a camcorder, to a stranger i pretended to know. I signed them are card too, but by the time it's noticed i'll be long gone. It was your wedding day and i think that you're pretty, but i'm still not very sorry for crashing your wedding.

I'll always like to aimlessly drive to New Britain with you. Our direction is fucked, but our SENSES are explicit! Just because we wander, does not mean that we are lost.

...

We're all just fools in love.

Expect recklessness.

"We think you're reckless." Is that good or bad? I'm not sure in which way i should take it. "Unexpected," the words she chose. Unexpected to her; at most? I guess i have hidden versions of myself. They are all me, but which one am i? One subsides while another presence. All existent, as shallow as skin, as deep as bones, as obvious as truth. Do you see the sarcasm in mist with my tongue? "My insides are rotting." She's said that before. She's not decaying, she's just tragically blooming. Just because it's under covers, doesn't mean it's hidden. Just hidden under versions of self. Beautiful disaster , "bleeming" existence. She's pressed and cracking. How do we fill our voids? Space can haunt, so fill me up. Release my breath with distinguishable fragments. Smokey mouthed and blurred, yet beautifully clear; can you see this version now or am i still reckless and unexpected?

EXPECT RECKLESSNESS. 

I'm rotting if you are.

ABSORBING OBSERVATIONS; a minute of mind.

What is my common good? "I don't like when you're upset." Such a selfish statement, but not a selfish girl. I wasn't being mean, I'm just trapped in my mind. I can't get out. How did i begin to feel better? The feelings, did they go away? To where? They haven't left, only subsided. You wouldn't know what i substitute with. Fuck communities. I'm a society within my own mind. "Let them seep into your bones." She's passionate when she speaks, beating all energy in her room. Just because I'm quiet doesn't mean i have nothing to say.

Fields of skin.

It's raining. She's breathing. I'm craving.

I grab, i move, i search. Let's see what i can find.

She grips. Those nails. My arms. Her neck.

A humid breeze from the cave of my mouth.

In this moment, i wish it wasn't vacant.

Fields of skin in the palms of my hands, on the tips of my fingers.

Inner thighs and under cheeks, let loose and hold tight.

Drifting, falling, laying and a silent scream for more.

Never enough.

My lips spoke static in her ear, i wonder what it was that she wanted to hear.

Dodo and the park.

It began this morning. My first day of Junior High School. I'm with Kylie. She really is my best friend. In her car. Drive to a park. Smoke cigarettes. A lady, her eyes are blue, but they are red too. She walks slowly to the window of my friends car. She's crying. She's hurt. She suffers. I suffer too, although i didn't tell her. She points to the car parked next to us. The man had three small dogs. He was sitting in his car while they ran around. She was still crying. Her voice shook as she spoke. Her words were like a melody of a sad song, just heartbreaking. "That man, he left me here all night, with nothing, nothing at all." He hits her. They are married. She is scared. I handed out my cigarette. "Paul Mall." That's what i said; like it would actually help the situation. She took a drag. Handed it back over. It didn't help anything. "You are so beautiful. You have such pretty blue eyes." She had blue eyes too. Hers were also beautiful. That, i did tell her. "Oh, but he doesn't care," she said. The man was just sitting there, right in his car. She must have been in her sixties. How many years has she been with him? She told me. I forgot. "Why don't you pack up and leave? Do you have any sisters or brothers?" i said. She can't, her brothers wife is a "bitch." She loves her dogs too, but they hold her back. They are the only thing that bring her happiness. She told me that. Her eyes were still red. She has no where to go. "Be careful who you get into relationships with." That's what she told me. That is what she told me. That is what she told me. That is what she told me. Do i listen, or just take precaution? I know that didn't happen for no reason. I was supposed to hear that. She asked me my name. "Karina," i said. "Call me Dodo." Dodo was supposed to tell me that.

My best friend was scared, i thought i was. I thought i should have been, but i wasn't. I wanted to help her. I really did. School was starting in seven minutes. We had to go. We said so, and drove off. I would have stayed the rest of the day there right with her. She was scary, but i wasn't scared. She needed the help, but did she help me?

Parks are supposed to be a happy place.

Dodo was supposed to tell me that.

In between

Would it be easier to chose between an exaggeratory imagination of what could be or the cold reality of actual truth itself? And what is true in the case of truth? Who decides between what is real and what is not? What does the past bring to the future? Everything or nothing at all. Or maybe somewhere in between. I'm always so in between.