May 2012
52 posts
Today when I found out my best friend lost her father, it shook me to my core. Because that same friend lost her mother in middle school. And I cannot and most likely will not ever know what that feels like - Devastating, paralyzing, numbing, crushing. My heart hurts and my eyes close at what she, her brothers, and her family are dealing with. So please excuse the interruption: But remember to...
2 tags
While showering
I ran my fingers through the tentacles of oceanic feelings locked in my hair. My hair is secretly trying to extract all of the bad thoughts from my brain, which is why I have dark hair. Dark hair is really a wonder, because maybe it means I have less darkness inside of my head. My head felt light and wobbly under the warm water that sometimes feels like your fingers. Your fingers wouldn’t...
1 tag
2 tags
2 tags
2:18am May 26th
Lily pads sail across small ponds of eyelashes, your eyelashes. Your eye is a lake, don’t question it. And when I slipped under the surface of your pupil, it all became black. I thought I would like it, I saw things differently. But I became lonely in your gaze. I swam back to the surface of your eye lid, and when you looked into the light I cast a shadow that looked like an arrow. And you...
2 tags
2 tags
4 tags
1 tag
ok you
I remember liking you during class, and I remember liking you when you sang to me, and I remember liking you with our backs to my backdoor late at night listening to summer v by The Tumbled Sea, and I remember liking you when we sat on the picnic table in the rain, and I remember liking you when we walked together through the night, and I remember liking you during the summertime all the time. I...
Mason: Do you know what I need?
Caitlin: A life?
Hallie: A sex life?
Mason: A full Beyonce album.
2 tags
and on some nights
i can’t help but count the stripes on my socks i forgot to take off, or look into a mirror for too long trying to figure out what color my eyes are. i try to recite old lines i memorized long ago, but it’s funny because the only lines i remember are the ones on your hands. i washed off so many sad-blue-paint-pulses from my chest long ago, but i look at my forearms and see blue viens...
Just made my Pottermore account, and I feel so lame for not having done this before… But I knew I would never stop…
2:46am May 21st
As I stepped into the cold caress of the dark underbelly of night, I had three things on my mind: The first was that my feet were cold. The second was that I felt calm. The third was that I had missed sitting in the passenger seat.
2 tags
The Books
Just think… that your eyes are made of up tiny little atoms that you will never see, and that most molecules are just space. You are in fact, made up of more space than matter. And all that space can be filled up with whatever you want.
1 tag
12:54am May 19th
I was riding home alone, on the tired and sleepy roads of West Boise - they were deserted. I knew how they felt, we’ve spent many evenings together. I had just dropped off my best friend, and said good night to him. That was 12:52am. I began to pedal, telling myself that the coldness in my fingers was only temporary, and that I should cherish this alone time. The cold whistle of the wind...
3 tags
1 tag
It is truly strange, (a short thought)
I tell you - that I am sitting cross-legged on my freshly made bed (with sheets I picked out and a blanket from my childhood) with no clothes on except for a pair of dark blue Hanes boxer-briefs. Just minutes ago I was lying in my bed, doing the things all people do before they drift away to sleep (counting, thinking, planning, and remembering) - when I remembered that I missed you. [I say...
2 tags
“Now just a moment!” cried my past. “No, give me the moment!” yelled my future. My present stood there quietly and watched them yell, and I dropped my moment into my cup of tea, and stirred it around until it dissolved.
3 tags
2 tags
May 10th
Coffee makes me think of you. I didn’t get cream today, you would have had it that way. Later my fingers slapped and tapped the table top faces and table top places that surrounded me. There is more graffiti here than I remember. There are some tags on my palms too… I forget who put them there, but they are the kind that smear and smell faintly of paint and can’t be erased by...
Anonymous asked: You are a beautiful writer.
4 tags
May 9th
Today I -
Applied at 11 different places
Noticed I missed the wind in Boise
Ate lunch with Matthew
anditurncold asked: YEAH.
Anonymous asked: Even though I will most likely never know you, your writing has brought tears to my eyes. It is beautiful, you seem to have a lovely soul. Thank you.
2 tags
You have a very tight grip, it muffles me. It makes me silent like the mouths in the thin air of Everest. You have very soft hands, I can’t keep myself still when you touch me. The silky sands of Egypt are the friends of your grittiness, You have very cold fingers. Sometimes I can only wonder why I’m choking - Choking - gasping when I look into your eyes. I see a stone cold hero like...
2 tags
In the pastels and the water colors your fingers tickle the color wheel in my chest, and I want to belong in your painting, but I feel like a misplaced brush stroke.
2 tags
In the soil of your underbelly, A seed was planted. Like a bramble, I began to grow - Prickly and thick I slowly sucked the gumption from your gut. I remember how I grew up your back, digging into your soft skin, following the curve of your spine. I clawed at your scapula, pulling myself higher… laughing. You began to complain of astronomical thoughts and sad eyes, I began to sink my nails...
3 tags
Walk slowly. In the dark caress of nights crisp air, remember to tell yourself you are beautiful. Trace the lines on your own palms, your elbows, and your toes. Get to know each freckle on your face, Thank them.
“If we don’t believe in freedom of expression for people we despise, we...”
– Noam Chomsky
May 6th
Today we drove home. Mother, brother, and I. It was so wonderful just to be with them.
Please exit quietly
into the doors of an airplane.
But remember that you gave me wings too. Good bye.
Excuse me,
I thought we were all poets here…
Anonymous asked: You'll be home soon, and when you are, you should consider putting together a dissertation about what you believe about life, humanity, and what it means to be a human existing in the world today. I'm curious how you feel about these things.
2 tags
When I was singing, “Never was a cloudy day,” outside of the library, I looked up at the gray bowl of exhaled breaths and campfire smoke above my head.
And I thought; ‘So much has changed.’ & my body aches & I like cold air when I sleep & I’m going to miss it here & Pink petals are everywhere & Keep singing & Water & Quick heart beats at...
2 tags
When you take off my cap and spill my soliloquies onto silent pages,
I hope you see color and light.
I am more than graphite.