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.