more old(ish) poems.

Mercy Mercy
Defeat wraps its hand around my throat
And chokes the life out of me
I know it'll end on a bad not
So I scream out, please have mercy



Wings
Sometimes all I want
Is just to disappear,
When the dreadful pain
Starts ringing in my ear.
I tell myself its a lie,
It shouldnt mean a thing.
But its telling me its true
And cutting of my wings.



Artifical
Artificial happiness
Whiped away by finger tips
And you stare into my eyes
Pushing away all my lies

Who I Am: Pros & Cons.

Biased
Broken
Conceited
Confused
Corrupt
Damaged
Deceitful
Delicate
Disasterous
Disoriented
Disrespectful
Foul
Fragile
Improper
Lost
Low
Misleading
Shameless
Shattered
Sinister
Susceptible
Rude
Uncertain
Unfair
Unguarded
Unreasonable
Unrefined
Unstable
Unsteady
Vicious
Vulnerable
Weak
Wicked
Wrong



Pros:
Bubbly
Compassionate
Condfident
Determined
Loving
Outgoing
Strong
Unique

i am pain.

The teacher speaks.
"The best way to figure out if its a noun or an adjective it to ask yourself if you can be that, or if you can have that. For example. Can I be a fever? No. But you can have a fever, therefore a fever is a noun. Can you be pain?"
The rest of the lesson blurs in my ears. Yes, you can be pain. I know she was going to say "No, its a noun," but I also know shes wrong. My personal experiencs, my life has taught me that I can be pain. When there is so much of it that you cannot feel anything else, when thoughts of it take over any other things on your mind, when something bad happens-after you think things cant get any worse-and its doesnt bring you down further, because youre already as far down as down goes, then you are pain.

I cried writing this.

I refuse to let my tears fall, I refuse to be weak again. From this day forward, I wont cry. Ill do anything to make sure I dont. In my tears, I find myself giving up, giving in, letting go and breaking down. In my tears, I feel strength leaving my body. Many will beg to differ, and I often did for as long as I can remember. I once believed that when I cried, it didnt show weakness, but strength and bravery for not being afraid to cry. Last night, I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror while I was crying, and I hated who I saw. I saw myslef in pain, I saw myself hurting and craving happiness. My eyes were a deep blue, and in them I saw my shattered feelings sparkling at the edges. My eyes are ever only deep blue when Im really upset or when Im really happy. But its different. When theyre deep blue when Im really happy, you can see the happiness lighting up my eyes, giving them character and life. When Im really upset, the blue looks like it should be called "hurting blue" or something along those lines if it were a Crayloa crayon. You can just see the pain, as if my own life was being strangled in front of my eyes. I dont like that look. I dont like looking weak, afraid, torn, tattered and ruined. Im done crying, Im done looking like that. I want to look strong. Whether my feelings are shattered or not, my eyes wont give that away anymore. I will do anything, Ill find some way to not cry anymore. Ill turn my tears into anything, other than showing my pain.

devastation & beauty.

What does it mean to be devastatingly gorgeous? I was called that once. It confused me. Still does. Is it a good thing to be devastatingly beautiful? Should I have been insulted? No, I dont think so. But I feel weird. Maybe, it wasnt a compliment so much as a statement, a pure fact. That sounds conceited. I just mean that its not something I would say to someone to compliment them. Im not complaining though; not at all. It just gets me thinking every once in a while. Do I want to be devastatingly gorgeous? Its such an oxy-moron, that maybe they cancel eachother out, which would just make me a "Plain Jane". Maybe It means my beauty is envious, but I doubt thats the case at all. Its like the words "beautiful disaster." Two opposites, but they give each other more value, they make one another more prominent. A beautiful disaster might mean that beauty, or a silver lining, can be seen from a disaster. Or that even though everything is a mess, it still can have positive effects. So does that mean that someone who is devastatingly beautiful is a devastation, but theyre still gorgeous? Or does it mean that through the tragedy of them, something unbelieveable will come of it? Or is it possible that someone can be so beautiful, that it can cause someone else pain, but just the mere sight of it?
I dont know my opinion on this. I want to say that I do, but the fact of the matter is, I dont. Ive tried to make an opinion. But I need guidance, so if you have an idea on what it means to be devastatingly beautiful, please let me know.

i wanna wake up where you are.

Standing in the rain
or standing in the snow
I dont care where I am
As long as shes close

Im willing to wait,
And willing to hold on
She doesnt understand
That I wont be gone

I know shes afraid
i know she has walls up
But Im ready to prove
That she can feel love

the best days.

I just remembered what it was that I wanted to write about.

Im a senior in high school this year. And I cannot lie, I am terrified of this fact. Im not sure how Im going to get use to a new routine, after following this same one for the past thirteen years. Ill be starting a new life, practically. New place, new people, new strategies to surviving. All my friends ar getting accepted to colleges. The people Ive spent the past four years getting to know and love are going to be gone soon. We will each just be a memory to each other, though some of us may stay close. Its scary to think that some of the people I talk to every day, I wont even have contact with in a year or so. Ive gone through several schools, numerous best friends, tons of cliques, plenty of boy friends and girl friend, a fair share of drama and anything else a teenager can go through. Ive learned from teachers not only about education, but also about life. Ive experienced good and bad times. Ive dealt with nasty rumors, derogatory slang, complete assholes, and stuck up preps. Ive been bullied, and I have bullied. Ive passed on rumors that Ive heard. Ive been a complete asshole, and Ive been stuck up. Ive done things illeegally, and Ive done things legally. Ive been deprssed, and Ive been the happiest gril in the world. Ive been heart broken, and Ive broken hearts. Ive fallen in love, and been loved in return. Ive written essay upon essay of the American Revolution, and Mao Zedong, and Incan Empires, and more history topics. Ive disected pigs, frogs, owl pellets, deer hearts, worms and even a shark. Ive read To Kill A Mockingbird, and learned not to judge someone until I walked in their shoes. Ive read allegories like Animal Farm. Ive read memoirs like Angela's Ashes. Ive read journals, Like Ann Franks Diary, and learned about the hardship so many people go through, and how they manage to still somehow stay strong. Ive learned about quadratics, parabolas, sin, cos, and tan, and the Pythagorean Theorem. Ive taken state tests, Ive taken local tests, Ive taken the SATs. Ive learned how to cook and sew, Ive watched "The Movie" and Ive watched a birthing video. Ive played baskteball, softball, dodgeball, badminton, ultimate frisbee, and millions of other sports and games. Ive been in detention (once), Ive skipped classes, and Ive been late to classes. Ive written my name on the bathroom stall, Ive been "booked" and Ive been "pantsed". Ive played softball, Ive tried out for voleyball. Ive ran track for six years. Ive lost so epically, and cried with disapointment, and Ive won ribbons at sectionals, and gotten first place at dual meets. Ive spent friday nights with my friends, Ive spent friday nights alone. Ive lost friends because Ive changed, Ive gained some because Ive changed. I attempted to learn how to read music, and Ive played a cornet. Ive been in plays, and Ive been in talent shows. Ive gone on field trips, and Ive been to dances. Ive helped bottle drives, and Ive helped fundraisers. I smiled and laughed, fronwed and cried. Ive enjoyed life, and Ive hated it. Ive said I cant wait to grow up, and Ive heard the line "these are the best days of your life." Ive ignored that line, and Ive believed it to the very fullest.

& i love it when i see your face drop.

Its been a while. And I just thought of something I wanted to write about, but as soon as I got to this point, I forgot. So, instead, Ill post a couple poems I found from last year.


Everytime I see you
I feel butterflies
I want to show you
Who I am inside
I wish that I could know
How you feel for me
I never will, though
And we will never be.




You had me from the start
You had my beating heart
And I gave you all I had
But now Im taking it back
I loved you every second
I loved you til the end
I cried and cried for you
As my heart ripped in two
Ill miss you every day
But apart we will stay

facing your fears.

As she falls through crisp, cold air
She whispers "I never turn down a dare"
I'll show myself Im not afraid
Let them see how strong I was made

Empty darkness for eternity
Its a matter of natures maternity
My fears I will conquer and defeat
In one last simple, graceful leap










"If every word I said could make you laugh, Id talk forever."
-Jesse and The Rippers.

bad days.

I was taking a myspace survey last night. And one of the questions was "Describe the worst day of your life." Well, I got thinking about it. And I decided Ive had three days that are all tied for that position.




DAY ONE:
It was a little after 10 on a monday night, in early October of 2005. I was in my room, writing in my journal, as I did every night. I was writing about what a great weekend it had been. We hadn't had school that day, or the previous friday because it was our Columbus Day Weekend. Some family friends, from Boston and Canada, had spent the weekend with us. Along with my best friend, Richard. He was my ex boy friend, but when we broke up, he stayed close to the family. My dad had become a father like figure to him, since his was across the country. That night, my little brother was already in bed, and my dad was watching TV in the living room. I heard the doorbell ring, and the dog started barking. I quickly went to the kitchen to quiet him, and my dad answered the door. He went outside, but eventually came back inside, two men following him. They were dressed casually, and I didnt recognize them. He told me he had to go down to the police station because Richard had been missing for a while that day, and he was at the station now. He told me to call my mom, and wake up Keenan, my little brother. So I called my mom to have her come get us, and my dad went to his room to change. The two men stood in silence while I called my mom. She sounded upset, but I thought nothing of it. When I hung up the phone, one of the men said to me, "She'll be here before you know it." And he smiled, a sympathetic smile.
"I know," I said politely.
Just then, my dad walked into the living room, hugged me and kissed my forehead, and said "I love you, princess." And then he left with the men. I went to my room, but as soon as I was in there, I heard the front door open. My mom lived close-about 10 minutes away-but there was no way she could have made at there that quickly. I went to the living room, and sure enough, there was my mom. And she was crying. 'Why is she crying,' Was all I could think. I went to her and hugged her, and she walked me to the couch. She sat me down and told me what happened, and I began to cry. Eventually, Keenan heard us crying, and came down stairs. He sat on the other side of my mom, and she began to tell him.
"Buddy, your daddy is in trouble. The police think he did something very bad. Someone made a phone call to the police station, and told them that Daddy touched Richard in a bad way. You guys are going to come stay with me for a while. You dont have to go to school tomorrow, but we have to go see a lady, and you guys will have to answer some questions, okay?"
Keenan began to cry, too. But he was confused. I knew the police were wrong. It couldnt possibly be true. Someone made a mistake. Someone was lying. Either way, it just wasn't true. The next day, we had to go see a lady named Jen Yaun. She was a caseworker, and she seemed very nice. Keenan and I each had to talk to her alone, in a small room, and we had to be recorded. So, I went first. I sat in a chair, and she sat in another, facing me. She asked me a ton of questions. Who Richard was, why he was always at our house, how often was he there, where did he sleep. Questions that, I thought, the answers to, were all harmless. She asked me if my dad had ever touched me inappropriately, to which, of course, the answer was no, never. She asked me if I'd ever seen him touch my brother or Richard that way, and once again the answer was no, never. I spent an hour and a half in there with her. And near the end, she told me that my dad was a bad man. She told me she believed the police, and that just because he was my dad, didnt mean he wasnt a monster. I had already been crying, but that made me cry worse, and that made me furious. I stopped talking, told her I wanted to leave, and I had nothing more to say to her. Next, my brother talked to her, and he was in there for about two hours. When he came down stairs, my mom, sister and I were waiting for him, and after my mom talked to Jen for a while, we left. On the way to the car, Jen told me she was glad she got to meet me, she gave me her card and told me I could call her if I ever needed her. I just glared at her and walked away.




DAY TWO:
I did something unspeakable when I was at my summer camp in the summer of 2006. I will tell you this. It was bad, very bad. It was illegal. And it broke my heart. In the end, I lost someone who was very important to me, and someone who left a huge impact on my life, and who I am today. I knew the possible consequences, but I had never thought it would come down to them. I remember hearing the news from one of the staff members that I was close to, because he was friends with my dad. I considered him my "camp dad". He told me that this person, whose name will be known as Jac, was leaving. She was packing now, and I wasnt allowed to see her. I broke down. I fell to the ground and began crying. I had to apologize to her, I had to say goodbye. I got up, and ran to the office, though it was half a mile up the hill. The whole time, another staff member I was friends with, was running behind me. His name was Yonaton. He wasnt going to stop me, just wanted to keep an eye out for me. When I got to the office, no one was there. I grabbed a paper and pen, and quickly wrote a letter to her. I was crying, and I couldnt breathe. My next thought was that she was at the cabin. Yonaton gave me a ride on the golf cart to the cabin, and I slowly walked up the stairs to the porch when I got there. I wasnt sure if I should just walk in, or knock. So I stood there for a few moments. Finally, I opened the door, and stared down the aisle between all of the beds. Hers was the last one on the right, and it was completely cleaned out. I walked, taking small, slow, baby steps. I was dizzy. I felt sick. When I reached her bed, I stood there, staring at it in disbelief. How could this happen? I collapsed onto it, and began crying to myself. After about ten minutes, I sat up. As I stared at the wall, I thought about everything that had happened the past few days. I thought about what a mess I had caused, and how many people I'd hurt. I left the cabin, and sat down on the stairs outside. Yonaton asked me if I was okay. I told him I was fine, but asked if I could just be alone. He hesitated, but agreed. He got in the golf cart and drove away. I was left in the woods, the dark consuming me externally, while the pain consumed me internally. I stared at the rocks on the ground. I stared at the rubber band on my wrist, and decided snapping it wouldnt work anymore. I stared back at the rocks. I thought about Jac, and how she told me she use to cut when she was depressed. I thought about a few of my friends from camp, Jenna, and Kate and some others, telling me about how they use to cut. I searched the rocks. I saw one with a sharp edge, inviting me and offering me a release. I looked around and went to pick it up. As I sat back down, I held the rock firmly in my right hand, and held it against my thigh. I stared at it for a moment, I thought about what I had done, about who I had hurt, about what I had lost. I pushed it into my skin, and slid it across my skin, just barely tearing the skin. I felt chills crawl up my spine, and I sighed, slightly relieved. I lifted it from my skin, and threw it. I stood up and ran into the cabin, ignorning the lights and slamming the door behind me. I found a thumb tack, and traced the line from the rock, pushing deep into the skin. The second I finished, and lifted the tiny weapon, I heard voices. I quickly stuck the pin in the wall, and the door to the cabin opened. The lights came on, and a group of happy, giggly teenage girls grew dead silent, and stared at me, glaring. I had my hand over my thigh; their looks were from pure hatred and anger. Silenty and slowly, they all filed into the cabin, and I quickly changed into longer shorts on, and walked out, ignoring my counselor yelling at me to stay. I walked to the office, and soon found out my dad was on his way. I left the next morning.




DAY THREE:
I had broken up with Kate. I had left her for Amy. Amy was mine, she loved me, she told me she did. And God, was I in love with her. I was hers. I would have done anything for her, and she knew that. She was away on vacation, with the family she lived with for a week, and everything was fine while she was there. But when she came back, she told me she had changed her mind. She told me she didnt want me anymore. Kate was at my house that day, she was still my best friend, and she held me while I cried. But this must be known- this wasnt the bad day. This just hurt. A couple days later, I learned that the reason Amy had left me, was because she started liking Kate. And Kate had started liking her too. I was furious, knowing that Kate had held me while I cried, knowing full well that she was the reason Amy was leaving me. Not to mention, I had left Amy for Kate... How could it have possibly back fired this way? However, this wasnt the bad day either. I was at Kates one day, a couple weeks later. We had just made up a little bit, and we were sitting in her car. She was constantly texting, and I was of course curious to know what she was texting Amy about. So, when Kate went inside to grab a CD, I looked through her phone. Yes, it was wrong, but I never would have known the truth if I hadnt. For days, I had been asking her if she loved her. I had been asking if she was falling for her. I wanted to know what was going on between them. She told me they just liked eacother and that was it. As I read the text from Amy to her, I stopped breathing. I only read that one text. All it said was: "Im falling for you, too. God, I am." I hate that I still remember it word for word, but I dont know how to block things out of my memory like other people can. I quickly closed the phone, put it back in the spot I found it, and stared out the window. I was shaking. I didnt know what to do, or say, or think. Kate got in the car, and she had no idea that anything was wrong. She said something, that I didnt hear because I had too much else going on in my head. I said that I had to leave. She asked why. All I could think to do was ask her if she was falling for Amy.
"No, I told you, Im not."
"Is she falling for you?"
"Not that Im aware of."
"Has she said shes falling for you?"
"Not that I remember."
I opened the car door, and left. I couldnt be lied to anymore. I couldnt sit there and feel the betrayal as it swam through my veins, poisoning my every thought and feeling. I walked down the road, to the tracks. I followed the tracks all the way to black bridge. Kate was attempting to text me and call me. But I wouldn't answer. I knew what my intentions were. I wanted to run away. I wanted to disappear, and not be found. I wanted to leave, and never look back. I wanted to curl up in a ball and disintegrate into nothing. Finally, when I reached the bridge, I answered her phone call. She asked me where I was. I told her it didnt matter. She asked me what I was doing. I told her it didnt matter. Before hanging up, I told her I was at black bridge, and that I didnt want to talk to her anymore. I told her how I was in too much pain to even think. I hung up on her, and thats when more texts began coming in. Amy began texting me, Kate continued texting me, and my other friend, who was best friends with Amy, began texting me too.
I ignored everything, and left the bridge. I walked to my favorite place, somewhere that no one knew was my favorite place. I walked to Cemetary Hill, and sat there, crying. I found glass on the tracks walking there, and I tore up my thighs with it, ripping at the skin as much as possible, bleeding as much as possible. I answered a text from Amy, and eventually, we began fighting, and my cuts went deeper. Finally, Kate found me. I wouldnt go near her. I wanted nothing to do with her. She had realized what had happened. She knew she was busted. I was falling apart, and she was my best friend, trying to put me back together, but I didnt want anything to do with her. But after a while, I gave in, and fell apart in her arms. She hugged me, as we sat in the middle of the woods, and I cried. Soon, she convinced me to go back to her house with her. She tucked me under the covers of her bed, and I cried, and cried, and cried. Amy was still fighting with me. I guess rumors had gone between the three of them that I was gonna jump off of the bridge, or off of the top of cemetary hill. And after I had calmed down a little bit, Amy texted me and said one simple thing. Another line, that I unfortunately cannot forget. "Wouldve been better if youdve jumped." And my world closed in on me. How was it possible for someone to say that to another person? How was it possible that the person I was so in love with, so crazy about, could just tell me I shouldve killed myself? She didnt want me around, that was clear. And I was going to make sure she got what she wanted... That was until Kate made me stay the night, and wouldnt let me out of her sight.





Are you wondering what happened in the end? I lived through it all. I survied, and I was made stronger. You may be thinking that "those days really werent that bad." But Im here to tell you that they were. And they were only the beginning of the really bad times I went through, which could explain why they are marked as even worse days in my memory.
My dad was proven innocent, of course. And after the summer of 2006, we were allowed to move back in with him. Jac and I talked, lost contact, found each other on facebook and talked, and at this point, were drifting apart. Kate is still my best friend. Amy and her are not together. And Amy and I are friends. Ive moved on from both of them. Its just proof that everything is good in the end. If its not good, its not the end.

enthralling.

i am enthralled by your eyes.
i am consumed by your presence.
i am gripped by your touch.
i am entranced by your voice.
i am dazzled by your laugh.
i am mesmerized by your ways.
i am captivated by you.

Damn, Im falling. I can feel it happening, I cant stop it from happening. One of the scariest feelings in the world, but at the same time, the most incredible feelings. No matter the outcome, I can tell myself I wont be afraid after this time around. Whether I get hurt or not, I know Im not going to stop myself from feeling this again. What person in their right mind would ignore the pleasures and the bliss...and the thrill of love? I know there are severel people in that state of mind, but I must pity people who have the capability of not letting themselves love.

Let me say something. I dont care if someone tells me no, tells me its bad for me, tells me Id be better off if I didnt. Theyre wrong. Damn it, life is a game of risk. No one gets out alive, but you still win so much while playing. And love...that is the best reward you could get. I mean, honestly, you must have done something right if you get the chance to love, and you must have REALLY done something right if youre loved in return.

Im aware that most of my blogs lately have been about love. But I think its one of my favorite topics. Everyone loves in some form or another. Its such a powerful emotion. I think about love all the time. I fear it all the time. I have it all the time. I give it all the time. I receive it all the time. I want it all the time. I need it all the time. I feel it all the time.

someday.

someday, i will meet the one who will do these things for me. someday, i will find that one girl to prove to me that theyre not all the same. someday, i will be loved as i love. someday, i will give up, and ill fall down; and there will be someone there catch me. someday, i will be so entirely happy every single moment of every single day, instead of only being completely happy every once in a while. someday.

im not afraid.

Where should I start
When I dont even know
Where itll end
Or where it will go

You said those words
I knew not to believe
I knew it was a lie
But I couldnt breathe

As I free fell down
The fear was replaced
Only adrenaline rushed
Through my thirsty veins

Im prepared for the ending
That I know will come
Im not afraid of it
And Im not going to run

I have a favor to ask you.

Let me ask you something. If you dont like things getting personal, stop reading. But, you should give this a chance. Maybe youre someone who doesnt let yourself feel or think a certain thin because of past experiences. Maybe you dont let yourself be happy because when youve done that before, youve only ended up sad or maybe you just convinced yourself you were unworthy of the luxuries of happiness. Or maybe you refuse to love. Maybe you push people away at the fear of your hert being shattered and trampled on. But what I want to ask you is very important. For just one day, or an hour even, I want you to let yourself feel what you stoppped letting yourself feel. My depression has enveloped my emotions, has taken them over. I rarely feel anything other than pain, which I have grown numb to. But every day, lately, I allow myself to love and be happy for as long as possible. Im fighting my fears.
Now, you may be reading this saying "Im not afraid of those feelings, Im just not going to let the same things happen again." Be strong and fight it if it happens again; thats what I have to say to that. I know its eaiser to just avoid it, but if you avoid it, youll end up missing out on so much. We have emotions because they're essential to living. Theyre a gift, a blessing.
Love, in all forms, is the most astounding feeling in the world. It can create so many other emotions, as well as form from so many other emotions. Hearts break, but there will ALWAYS be someone there it put it back together, willing to even make the glue to do so.
So, if youve turn off your heart, reach in and turn it back on. If youve hidden it on a shelf, packed it away into the back of your closet, its time for some spring cleaning (yes, in the middle of fall). Let yourself feel. Let your heart beat the way its suppose to beat, And if it bleeds again, just remember all hearts bleed, but they beat, race and quicken too. If it bleeds, remember you will always find someone with a bandaid and a kiss to make it feel better. So, please, try this for me. It could work if you let it, if you put enough faith in it. Love can create miracls. Happiness comes from love. So, dont be the one to stop a miracle, and dont be the one to stop a smile.

math notes.

if z=pain, let x=love. find y (show as solution set).
x²+y=z

x²=love²
z=pain
y={faith≤y≤trust}



let:
r=lies
t=happiness
w=life
x=love
y={faith≤y≤trust}
z=pain

∴ w={-xy=t|√t=r|x²ty=z}

deep magenta.

I have a lot to say, but no words to form the sentences. I guess I've had this new outlook lately. Yes, for a very long while Ive been running from feelings. But let me tell you something. I'm letting myself feel again, and I havent felt this happy in a long time; probably eight months at least. But Im not totally okay yet. I never will be, to be quite honest. I dont deserve to be perfectly okay, and Ill never let myself be. But what I do deserve is to be happy, and to love. I stopped myself from loving people on any sort of level. But theres a few people that I have began to love. In different ways. And my God...I love how good its made me feel. However, Im still terrified of falling in love. Of giving my heart away, of putting my trust in people. If I ever give my heart to someone again, it wont be until Im strong enough to take care of myself on my own. And Ill just never trust anyone 100 percent. Or Ill atleast try not to. Sometimes theres just people you know you can trust. Other times you just cant. I was always the type of person to love unconditionally, though. And I dont know how I let one person change that about me. Everyone deserves to be loved, and when someone stops loving, then someone stops being loved. So, I will love. Ill love like always use to. I dont ever want to live life again without love. So, from this day on, Im stronger than those who hurt me enough to fear love.

just some things ive seen and liked...

love -does- exist.

I read an article today about a couple who were seperated by the Iron Curtain, and 50 years later, when they were 70 years old, they reunited and it was as if they had never been seperated. ANd I can't lie; I was getting teary eyed by the end of the article. I guess its just nice to know that people can find someone who they truly love, someone who wont hurt them and someone who means it when they say "I will never stop loving you." Granted, Ive siad that line before and it no longer applies, but at the time that I said it, I meant it.
But reading the story of this couple proves to me love exists, and very often its in the most unlikey of places.


http://news.aol.com/article/elvira-profe-and-fortunat-mackiewicz/701512?icid=mainhp-desktopdl1link3http%3A%2F%2Fnews.aol.com%2Farticle%2Felvira-profe-and-fortunat-mackiewicz%2F701512#

Maybe...

Have you ever known what it was like
to be dangerous to yourself?
Maybe everytime you feel anger or pain
you give yourself hell...

Have you ever teetered on the edge
of depression and love
Maybe you try as hard as you can
just to feel good enough...

Have you ever felt worth nothing,
broken and worn?
Or maybe just lost and forgotten,
shattered and torn...

Maybe just youre barely holding on
to a little bit of hope,
Maybe the pain and helplessness you feel
is telling you to let go...

Maybe youll learn to heal yourself
and cover up the scars,
Maybe youll find a small piece of heaven
in your very own heart...

may i rant for a bit?

I confess, that at this moment, I want to hurt her so much. Shes a lying bitch. Shes selfish and I havnt gone a week with out her hurting me through out the whole time Ive known her. The worst part is, I could be just as bad. Yeah Ive lied to her. But SERIOUSLY?!?! She lies to everyone! Like, its pathetic. I honestly do not want to give my heart to anyone, I do not want to give my trust to anyone ever again. And she has A LOT to do with that. "Oh, I love you so much. Bury my heart in the sand. It will always beat for you. The memory of your eyes is all that keeps me alive. I love you Lauren Beth *insert my last name here* and I wasnt lying when I said Im playing for keeps. You can always come back to me. I only want you. I cried because I was leaving you."
*silence**thinks**lightbulb*
LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES.
Shes a fucking liar. And you know what else? I dont love her anymore, haha. My god, how could I ever have thought you always love someone once you start loving them? Wow. Honestly, I dont love her. I dont want her in my life, and I wish I had never met her.
Ive said all this before...but it always hurt just a little bit to say it.... Not this time. I smiled the whole time I wrote this. Except for the moment where I thought about how much shes hurt me. But I didnt let that get to me. I remembered that shes not worth my time, that I deserve so much better, and I will do better. I wont ever let someone have the best of me. Never again. I wont ever truly hate her, but I can swear that I will never ever love her. Not at all. Not ever again.



& now, a quick thanks to megan and kourtney. you guys are awesome <3

it story time, children!

As I walked out of the school, I slipped my headphones in my ears and turned on my ipod, ready to walk home. As I lifted my head, what I saw shocked me, but my smile covered my face, and any pain I was feeling disappeared in a heartbeat. A rusty, red pick-up was sitting along the curb, and leaning against it was her. She was average height, with black medium length hair. She was noticeably muscular, and she wore a tshirt and baggy pants. Her face was painted with a crooked smile, and her eyes were staring at me through dark sunglasses.
I began to walk towards her, excitement tingling my legs every step of the way. I was grinning, ear to ear, and when I got to the truck she wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tight. I cherished the moment, taking in her scent and warmth. She pulled away and smiled.
"Surprise," she said, and I just stared, still grinning. Opening the squeaky passenger door, she held her hand out, gesturing for me to get in. I climbed in, and she closed the door before walking in front of the car to her side.
"So. Where are we going?" I asked, my happiness and excitement very noticeable.
"Where ever you want," she laughed, and I smiled.

We sat on a bench at the top of a hill that looks out over my town, in silence. The air was filled with the smell of autumn leaves, and the breeze was chilling. She grabbed her jacket from her truck and draped it over my shoulders.
"So," she said.
"So."
"Why dont you talk to me?" My mood changed imediately. I didn't want to talk about my feelings, about why I had ben distant today, about why I'd been so out of it lately. She'd regret asking if she knew why. But, I sighed and began to talk.
"Why is it that you always care whats on my mind?" I asked quietly.
She hesitated before replying.
"Because I care about you. A lot more than you realize." She averted her gaze, glancing out over the town rather than staring at me.
"I know what you mean," I sighed. She turned back to me, her face not giving away any emotions.
"Do you?" she asked.
"I think so," I mumured. "I think I know what you mean. But at the same time, I think Im just imagining youre feeling what Im feeling, and getting my hopes up." I could feel myself starting to shake slightly; I was just glad it wasnt noticeable yet.
"Well, why dont you find out?"
"Because," I shrugged.
"Tell me how you feel."
"No."
"Yes."
I groaned before speaking again. "I um...I just. God. I think about you all the time. I want to be near you all the time. I miss you when were not talking. Youre always there for me, and I trust you more than I've trusted anyone in a long time." I sighed. "We fought today. I told you I didnt care what you did. You didnt respond. But yet, you showed up after school. You have no idea how much that meant to me." My voice was shaking by the time I stopped talking, and I was slightly, okay, -insanely- nervous about where this conversation was heading.
"Well," she said slowly, "I wanted you to know how bad I felt about the fight. And I knew youd be hurting, I knew I'd be able to fix that, even if I was the reason you were upset." As she spoke, I knew what I was going to say next. I couldnt just pretend it wasn't what i was hinking anymore.
"I... I love you?" I said it as if I was asking it. Which I was. The statement was something so unfathomable, but so believable at the same time. I was unsure if I should believe myself. I was scared that I was right. I was scared I was wrong. Okay...I loved her, I admit it. But -how- did I love her? I wasnt positive of that answer.
She was staring at me, her eyes wide, but still not expressing any feelings on her face. I felt a knot in my throat start, and my stomach started to turn. My fear began to take over my thoughts, and I fought back tears. I knew I shouldnt have said it. I knew it. I opened my mouth to take it back, and my words were stopped by her lips pressing against mine.

my first one.

This is very exciting to me, the fact that Im doing my first blog. But just the word first gets me thinking. But before I get to that, Im going to warn you that my thoughts dont always even make sense to me, so I may be confusing sometimes. Also, when I write something, I tend to keep writing until I get distracted, so these may be long.
So, firsts. The other day, as I sat on a bench in my school lobby, some boy were doing a homework assignment. They had to write about a "first" memory. I was slightly confused by this task at first, and I thought they were trying to think of the first memory they could recollect. I attempted this, and I failed. Epically. But they explained it. By first, they meant like the first time they rode a bike, and things like that. I spent the rest of the period thinking about this. I could recall my first kiss. It was with Shelby. I could recall my first kiss with a boy. It was with Dan. I could remember my very first day of school, and meeting another girl named Lauren who looked just like me. I even remember the shirt she was wearing. I could remember the first time I got to pick out what I wanted to wear for picture day, and how that morning I was stressed for the first time in my life, because I wanted so badly to look pretty. I could remember the first time I fell in love. The first time I had sex. The first time I drank alcohol. The first cell phone I had. The first time I had a notebook for poems. The first best friend I had.
But most importantly, I remembered the first time I felt beautiful. Yes, I know, its weird that it was the most important. But the thing is, it was this past summer, and Im reminded of it every day. I cant say much about it. But there was a girl, who told me I was beautiful. Who told me I was perfect. Sure, Ive been told that before. But how did she manage to make me believe her? I dont know, but I sure as hell did.
Everyday, when I feel unattractive, less than average, boring, plain or dull, I think of her looking at me, telling me Im beautiful. And I feel comfortable with myself. Which is another first. Because everyday I feel pretty, and thats a real first.