Gardenhead

As I pulled the plant by the stem I heard the ripping of fibrous roots. "Just a weed," I sighed. I'd been pulling so many, my hands started to ache and it made my eyes water. Purging the bed of flowers of the life-sucking stalks. Just like I'd been doing for months- ridding my world of things that brought me down. Five, four, three... how many now? Only three? Three flowers left in the flowerbed.

Turns out the others were just weeds. Sometimes you have to wait and see them bloom before you know. They open up all rotten and ugly and you just have to keep pulling them up.

But you can hardly ever get to all of the roots.

I pull up the vines as I water the garden with my eyes.
"Just weeds," I choke. Just weeds...

Honestly...

I feel terrible these days.
Only thing that keeps me around here is his voice on the phone, and my writing.

All these things I say "I don't care" about, especially the goings-on of the late... well...

they hurt me. I feel so incredibly insecure. I feel like I'm doing something wrong.
But on the other hand, I refuse to believe it.
I am flawed. Everyone is.
No one is perfectly HONEST or PERFECT, and I'm not trying to change anyone.
I'm not pointing fingers, I'm not name-calling or making accusations.
I merely try to express myself...concerns, beliefs, etc.

I feel like I'm preaching on deaf ears.

I'm Building a Shrine (For You)

Aspartame and acid
burns holes in my stomach
It's just from the Diet Cokes.

Is it a side effect of missing him?
Is it from the ironic interpretations of late?
Is it from the insecurity I feel
when I'm labeled overconfident?

I killed your pride.
But you got revenge.

There's No Design Without a Fault Line

You are perfect,
you excel with your intelligence.
You answer every question posed.
How prophetic, how profound.
Everything you say is beautiful.

But have you ever checked the facts?

You are useful,
you work with such diligence.
You finish every task you start.
How complete, how precise.
Everything you build is beautiful.

But have you ever checked the math?

You are sorry,
for you let everyone down.
You have failed your family and friends.
How miserable, how depressed.
Everything you've done is gone.

But were you ever really right?

Self-Reflection

[I wrote this in Advanced Composition on Friday.]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I am a metaphorical genius, figuratively speaking.
I am a sheet of music composed of noise, nature, and the hollow lies that you mistakenly took as facts.
I am the rumor spewed from the tongues of people who don't even know how to spell my last NAME! I AM THE SONG BLARING THROUGH YOUR DJ-QUALITY HEADPHONES THAT MAKES YOU CRY YOURSELF TO SLEEP.

(I am quiet without these words on paper.)

I am nothing without my haircut and my guitar, because you label me as some
FAKE. HIPSTER. TRASH!...

...I label you as LIAR and keep walking down the tracks.

The Atmosphere of Saturn

When sleep doesn't help
and you don't remember your dreams
sigh into your pillow
and cease to exist.

Hold your breath and drown
deep in the sea of sheets
and and keep putting off
the same things you have for weeks.

Lunchtime Rambles

I ate my wrap and now I'm in the library trying to pass the time.
Today I get to leave early and go pick him up, then we're going to mom's house for the weekend. I'm entirely too anxious and I keep watching the clock. The seconds tick by like days.

So here I am, wasting time, and wasting letters in a blog that no one will think is interesting.

Do I care? Not in the slightest.
I do this for myself. And myself only.

This is my outlet for all things that live in my mind and need a break from the confinement.

So here I am.
Again.

Mom should be leaving soon. Takes two hours for her to get here. I'm leaving early today. Leaving from art class. Kind of a bummer, but it's worth it.
I get to see him today. :3

I've been having random giggle outbursts all day. I haven't stopped fidgeting since I got up this morning.
I was so excited I nearly gave myself third degree burns with the curling iron. I was daydreaming and clumsy. Like I always am when I have something to look forward to.
And this is DEFINITELY something to look forward to.

I misspelled reminiscent in AP Lit. I spelled it reminiscient, which is wrong. Obviously.
I hardly ever misspell words. But I'm pretty anxious about today so it makes sense, I suppose.

Oh, as for my new title for my blog and such.

"I read more maps than books..."
is a line from a Brand New song.
I've been listening to them since my friend gave a bunch of their albums to me this week. NONSTOP. Can't get enough. I'm a sucker for great lyrics and a mix of rough and beautiful. The vocalist can deliver enough power to make me want to punch through a wall (Sowing Season), and enough great acoustic and melodic songwriting that would make me want to sing until my lungs burst (Play Crack the Sky).

I haven't cried today, which is a first for these past two or three weeks.

It's because I know I'll see him soon.
Within 4 or 5 hours, in fact.
...
I just got butterflies.

Sic Transit Gloria... Glory Fades

I'm sitting in Desktop Publishing class, with nothing left to do.
I'm ahead of the class, since I've used Publisher many many times. So I've finished all my projects, and I'm sitting next to Ryan and listening to Brand New. He's watching me type.

Anyhow...

Trying to pass the time until tomorrow. I miss him so much.
I can't wait for the weekend, it's going to be amazing.
All this time apart, with the (SNEEZE) school and stuff has made us both kind of on edge. We both need time to relax together.

...I haven't gone a single day without crying.



I love you so much that it hurts my head.

My guitar seems to be "fixed" now. It was buzzing too much when I played. Maybe it was just because of me taking it from the basement to my room over and over again. It's now in my basement, waiting for my return like a loyal pet.
I can't get enough of the D'Addario's. They sound great.

"Ohhhh we're so c-c-c-c-c-controversial"
-Brand New: "Okay I Believe You, But My Tommy Gun Don't"

:sigh:

Oh wait. Okay I just remembered something that's going to make my day a whole lot better.
I packed leftover stuffing for lunch. Mmmm.

I have AP Government next. Which is kind of lame. The class is kind of boring. It's like, basically a more in-depth version of all the other History classes I've ever had. We're learning about the Constitution. Again. The only thing that makes it interesting is when I talk to my friend HxC Hicks. :p

Oh.
I thought of something that's worthwhile to talk about.

Tuesday night I went to CVS and bought some stickynotes, a pack of gum, and some mascara. Then I walked the usual route past Dave's Auto, down past the old warehouses, and the railroad tracks, and then to my house. But I spent the entire time walking to places we used to go together. I stared at a fire escape for 5 minutes. I took a picture of him there...
It was really sad, and I cried a lot. I saw 23879847 people I knew, just walking around.
That's why I hate it here. Everyone knows everybody.
Can I just be anonymous for once?

Sometimes I just want to disappear...

As long as you come with me.

"The Oldest Of Trees"

He help open the door for me.

I knew this boy was special the minute he asked me about my music. The minute he offered his screen name. Some kind of swooping happy shyness overtook my mouth as he offered to help me with my things. "It was silly," I thought at afterward, "to fall in love with words." But "Anytime, missy" was just the kind of classic gentleman language I had so been deprived of.

Yes, I had been deprived. Like some kind of potted plant on an old woman's porch. She was forgetful, so she never let the light in. Never let me quench my ever-growing thirst. Only rain and sad songs could keep me alive. But the same things that aided me kept me awake at night. I was a moonflower, only a vine by day. By night, I was white and luminous bloom. Pale skin and better intentions than those they credited to me.

So, when I received this boy's name and email address, I felt renewed.

""I'm really here?"

I've said it over and over ever since.

But, at the beginning it was not the love I know of now. We barely knew each other, so it seemed wrong to them. They called me a waste.

And the worst part?

I believed them.

But he, with that kind gentlemanly hand, pulled me from that old woman's brick porch. He took me to the Amazon. It was a wild place full of life and sound. I got tangled in the roots that ran deep with mystery and vibrance. They ran deeper still, with past woes. But together, it was mutual. We thrived together. We shared everything. We plan to be the oldest tree in history.

He held open the door for me.

I knew for sure I loved him.

And I've said it over and over

ever since.

This pain in my head...

...and in my empty chest.

They won't go away

until I can see you again.

I miss you.