i woke up today and felt summer swimming in my head. as the end came closer and the crackling in my ears became more difficult to ignore, i asked myself am i ready for the up coming changes life is going to offer. it feels like when you wiggle your toes above a 20 foot drop and the ripples in the water below are so eager for your arrival. i’m scared and i’m not sure i’ll ever be ready, but i jump anyways. when you free fall you don’t have time to think, all the while every second seems to drag on and everything happens in slow motion. all the blood rushes to your finger tips and you keep telling yourself it’s more fun to keep your eyes open. it’s cold. the water engulfs you and you can’t believe how much there actually is. you question your limits and suddenly you’re floating.

there, it’s not so hard after all. guess i have no reason to explain myself then as to why i haven’t been writing,

 big change. or just a plathora a little ones.

i address this letter to dear friend, i don’t know if you care. but i like to pretend someone is listening anyway.

sometimes i like to think of the places i’ve been. not just physically, but all together now.. mentally.. potentially, wish i could be, wish i never was. have you ever closed yours eyes and saw the whole world right before your nose? me neither, but what i have seen are a series of painful memories, perpetual sorrow, confused looks, wonderful colors and a blur of faces i know i’ve seen before but can’t find it in the life of me to remember the names.

how i wish i could remember their names before i come to realize, it doesn’t matter. really.

i don’t believe in coincidence. but i’m not sure if i believe in fate either. but i suppose there’s a wavering line that separates fate from faith. i suppose i’m swinging my legs while sitting on the fence.

in life though i think there should be something i believe in. i’m sure of it actually. that might of been one of the few things my mother and i agreed on. she calls me a deviant because i didn’t follow where ever her religion supposedly took her. but that’s okay. she’s only human, my mother.

i guess i follow the sun. i watch the day come and go and i fall asleep every night, some better than others wondering where tomorrow will take me. so in a sense i’m not really walking around blindly. look mom, no hands.

but if there is some greater force out there, i’d like to get the message out to dear mom. you didn’t do something wrong. i never changed because you let me slip away out of your grasp. you raised a deviant from the start and just never noticed until it was too hard to ignore.

it feels nice to be back.

i woke up on the side walk today. so while happy goes on uncontrollably about wanting to run away.. she should appreciate how fucking lucky she is merely having a CHOICE.

shit. when nothing makes sense i try not to think about it. what have the old people taught us except how to die. how to cry.. out of aggression and confusion (the beautiful taste of these moments.) i hate these small portions. pull the cord from the wall i just may be dinning alone and tonight i won’t go hungry. everything won’t be okay and that’s just fine.

everybody is losing control and i’m just trying to sit back and unless you have a heart condition of any kind, enjoi the ride. it might not matter to the second story boy or the woman with one too many cats or the corpulent man with the heart condition.. but regardless of that save me a seat. do you get what i’m saying?

so shut up happy and stop crying about the ride because you’re already in line and people are starting to feel uncomfortable.

i’ll tell you a secret: the hardest part of life is taking breaths to stay.

i sometimes see myself as a stranger . i try to come up with some rough sketch of who i am and all i come up with are attached strings and stories of the past that just may be a delusional escape from..what ever it is i’m running away from. (what are you thinking?) i just wonder what it would be like if i didn’t have this effect on people- “emily you somehow never cease to surprise me.”  what would it be like to not count how many breaths i take ? what am i even saying? (be here) this head is so pathetic, it never makes sense. and if these stupid poems could fix it i’d read them everyday. will you remember this day? it’s not right. i’m nothing short of a bad example of false pretense. ..no em, you’re a false pretense. (quit talking to yourself out loud, you’re being ridiculous) i’m not sure if i’m trying to make you laugh. i’m trying to explain to you how i feel.  i guess in the grand scheme of things this boiling pot just can’t help but have an  unsettling after taste of ridiculous nonsense that causes you to chuckle… or not. n’uff said. i just can’t be direct with anything. i’d like to stop playing games now.

(please stay until i’m gone)

(but i’m right here, waiting)

dear friend,

at a time i saw her slowly

fall into a sleep she fell

so heavy she shattered those sounds

so far away

i recall those feelings from yesterday

as we hummed through words and only you were on my mind

and now today those yesterday’s feelings are so far left behind

can you please wake up so i can see you again

you’re so lost in my mind

when i wake up will you promise to be here

i never meant all those rude things i said

i’m sorry i pushed you away

i wish i can say- it’ll all be okay

but you’re so hard to find

i’ve come to accept these twilight times

moonlit rhythms, songs and rhymes

to hold to true the hoarfrost lights

to accept as boon, both warg and wight.

i’ve come to know these horizon lines

both those of men and those of time

to nod my head to old songs i knew

the passing of friends, both far and few.

i’ve come to hope that when darkness dies

and sunlight glows upon closing eyes

to hold the warmth in and bask in rays

never ending, in peaceful days.

dear friend,

i’ve had tough times sleeping, late,

endless turning;

contemplate.

hoping that rest would find me,

yet, never had i hoped enough.

the endless turning, mind a’churning,

endless stews of voices burning;

so stricken that i sweat; and yet…

i hope.

dear friend,

i like moody pictures
sepia and ink.
landscapes i will never see
things that make me think.
the characters you pose for me
the gravestones that you stack.
the connections of sky and sea
the weaving of a sack.
i like it when it’s gloomy
or bright like shining knives.
the things just quite consume me
these pictures of different lives.
so be it dream or nightmare
or the flashing length of time.
i will still be sitting here
slowly composing mine.

i had a dream that i was batman and along with other people i was stuck in an elevator. Suddenly the walls roared with panic and the floor beneath us began to tremble. The elevator was plummeting to its death and we had no other choice but accept the last minuet invitation.

“BATMAN!  WHAT DO WE DO, BATMAN?!”  everyone yells. One after the other faces became a blurr. The Terror in their eyes with that small trace of hope still hanging on. They thought i could save them. how i so badly wanted to tell them, “hey, i’m going to die too. i’m just as scared as you.” However, the only words that i maneuvered with horrific awesome skill were, “everything is going to be alright. i’m batman.”

it has certainly been awhile. i suppose i never really did trust blogs. for some time i started spilling my words in ink, only to wash them away minuets later. my thoughts aren’t safe anywhere.

so ask me what happiness is..

hey em, what’s happiness?

my dear friend, happiness is good health and a bad memory.

so in time i will forget how much it hurt when you snapped at me. the times you’ve made me cry. i’m already starting to forget how sometimes it’s so easy to read in your eyes that you will never forgive me. i try not to look.

you don’t have to say anything, your silence is enough- trust me.