sprinkler

something about
a bright yellow sprinkler
on a front lawn
in the summer time
reminds me
of laughter

and friendship

and childhood

"talk to you later"

didja mean that?

silence

my muse is tired (be quiet! she's sleeping!)
my heart is tranquil (be careful! it's healing!)
my happy is happy
my sadness is small
and now there is
(finally)
silence.

obsessed

i think
you'd be
a little
scared
if you
knew how
obsessed
i was
with you

your strawberries smell like sunshine!

i love summer on the farm.

wheel

"i believe
that my life's gonna see
the love i give
return to me"

impossible

"someone told me i should take
caution when it comes to love
i did
tell them all i know now
shout it from the rooftops
write it on the skyline
all we had is gone now
tell them i was happy
and my heart is broken
all my scars are open
tell them what i hoped would be
impossible"

had enough

"every time i reach for you
there's nothing left to hold on to
now i know what empty is
i've had enough, had enough of this"

"where's your other half?"

no late fees!

i walked into the blockbuster and placed the dvd on the counter.
GUY: hey, how are ya?
ME: i'm fine. i'm just returning this dvd.
GUY: [nods, picks up case]
ME: it was due thursday...
GUY: [smiles knowingly, opens dvd case to make sure disk is actually inside]
ME: ...so I'm guessing there's some consequences with that.
GUY: yeah. [snaps case closed, scans barcode] technically it's a dollar a day, but we'll see what we can do for you. [watches computer screen waiting for information to pop up]
GUY: [account info appears] oh. [sort of surprised face] thursday. [he obviously wan't listening to what i told him earlier] that's close enough. [clicks something on the computer screen, throws dvd into the 'to-be-sorted' box behind him]
ME: wait, so... that's just it?
GUY: yeah. [shrugs] basically i just waived it for you.
ME: really? thanks!
GUY: no problem. have a great night.
i did. :)

clarity

"and i will wait to find
if this will last forever
and i will pay no mind
when it won't
and it won't
because it can't
it just can't
it's not supposed to"

the first cut is the deepest

"if you want i'll try to love again
baby, i'll try to love again but i know
the first cut is the deepest"

all's not fair in love (or war)
sitting here and waiting for
a call, a voice, a word, a note --

give it up. that's all he wrote.

the sun came out

and at that, my muse stomps her little foot, grinding her black stiletto heel into the hardwood floor. she tosses her hair over her shoulder, pushes her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, picks up her briefcase, and marches out of the room, her nose in the air. on the desk she leaves a mess of unfinished poetry and crumpled-up who-knows-whats, spilling out of the wastepaper basket and onto the floor. no one wants them finished anymore.
the door slams as my muse makes her exit out the front door and climbs into her BMW. she's angry. she thinks she's leaving forever. but this has happened before. she'll come back.
and while she's gone, my heart beats happily - bumpbump, bumpbump - and my thoughts sing slready-written songs.

these are not song lyrics

why do i let myself / get all worked up about / one little message / and just a few words?
:)

a million little pieces

i live for the million little pieces of you that are still sitting inside of me. i die, because, well, you're broken, and those million little pieces are slipping away, one piece at a time. i laugh for the thought that someday i can put the fragments back together and maybe even mend my heart at the same time. i cry because i know i never will.

say

"walking like a one-man army
fighting with the shadows in your head
living out the same old moment
knowing you'd be better off instead
if you could only..."

why?why?why?

i walked down the street from the bus today, a football under my arm and my backpack slung over my shoulder. my backpack was heavy, but my heart was heavier.

please don't leave me

this is not the end. you have not reached the goal. it's only one marker on the long road of life. don't stop now; there's still work to do - you've won the semifinals, but the game's just beginning.

just let go

my muse is overworked, i think. she's sitting at her desk, classy black glasses with plastic, rectangular rims falling off her nose, as she sweeps her long, black hair off her face into a touseled bun and leans over the paper in front of her, frantically scribbling away. she bites her tongue, furrowing her brow, matching words with feelings and letters with words. a bead of sweat drips off of her nose and onto the paper, but that's ok, because it adds to the ambiance of the thing she is writing. she is breathing hard, breathing heavy, breathing in the things she writes...
and then suddenly, without warning, her face assumes a look of panic, one of pain. the pencil falls from her hand and bounces once on the desk before settling into silence. and my muse begins to cry. her body heaves and shudders with sobs. she has just realized that what she is writing is devastating. the heart she inhabits is breaking, breaking... and she cannot write it down with words.

am i?

i finally took my prom nail polish off this morning. it used to be all gold and sparkly, but it was getting kinda tarnished and faded, so i doused a dozen cotton balls in nail polish remover, scrubbed my toes until they were clean, and threw everything away.

am i like prom nail polish to you?

just say 'i love you'

my world is all crumbly, soggy, and lumpy.
no, scratch that -
it's crashing and tumbling around me.
my world is all broken; it's shattered and lonely -

i think that's bad.

today i felt

today i felt
something
a trickle
a shiver
a something
a glimmer
a something
inside

apathy

writing is emotion that bubbles up in my chest, seeps out of my skin, and makes words on a page.
i know i feel SOMETHING,
so why can't i write?