November 11, 2006

Jonesing for another hit

Because you told me not to demean your love for me...
Because you told me once that you'd do anything for me...
Because there was that single moment in time where I was what you wanted, and you started loving me.

And everytime I try not to think about you,
it's you, just you
and the soundtrack to our love.

It's in the way you pull me closer,
tug the collar I still can't take off
breath your lust into me
and sweep me back to Neverland.

You've become my pixie dust,
my addiction..
my dirty little not-so-secret.

And everytime you come around,
everytime you tempt me with
"I love you."
Everytime you graze my skin in passing
everytime you've held my hand to you...
I have to mainline you straight to my heart,
drip you passed my eyes to my brain,
smell you into oblivion,
and trip you into my soul.

I know your effects,
I know what it's like to roll with you in me..
The lightshows have always been ecstacy.
Pure love found in midnight hours,
at twilight,

I just lose myself to the feeling of it all
knowing that it might not come again.

And now I'm itching for another hit,
jonesing for one more kiss,
twitching for another night in your arms where I can say "goodbye".

Wishing that I had enough in me to earn you.
Praying that the God I've always heard about can hear me.
Screaming inside as you hug me while I cry for you.

"You can't do this to me.. You can't love me while you're breaking my heart."

I've chased you passed this point of no return, and there can be no rehab now.
It's got to be, like you said, cold turkey.
So I'm cutting off the hand you used to hold,
I'm burning out my soul,
I'm mutilating the heart you used to know
So that there is no space for you in me anymore.

Rip the Serenity Prayer from my throat and tell me there were no diamonds in my sky.
Break the tape of affirmations in my mind and tell me it was all just powered sugar.
Cut off the fingers laced between yours and tell me it was just my imagination..

Release me...

May 17, 2006

The DaVinci Code and Tarot Cards

It's 10:20pm and I am bored. I live in a metropolis and can find nothing to do. Ironic, no?

I have the DaVinci Code in my room, and I'm reading it. I figure with the movie coming out I owe it to myself to read the book first, especially one that has incurred so much hulabaloo. But I just can't seem to get through it. Let's face it, working in a bookstore, I know how it's going to end, and I like the premise for the book, I mean very orginial and asking for controversy. But it's his style that I just can't get through. His writing and I just don't mesh so this may take a while.

I have found that when you get bored working in a bookstore because you have "run out of things to do" that you order books that you want just because you can and you can get this at a discount. The problem with this is... they all show up at once. But at least I'll be occupied for a while ^_^!! Also, you end up looking up random shit like "Klingon" in the database and order books like "The Klingon Hamlet", and Much Ado About Nothing.. in Klingon, and the Klingon Dictionary just for good measure. Please understand I am not kidding and in a week's time I will own all of these. Along with the Zombie survival guide. Books are the awesome.

I am listening to the Postal Service and wondering why you are reading this. I have no idea if you really are, but I'm hoping. I figure that if I took the time to write it that perhaps someone will take the time to read it. Maybe. *shrugs* If you don't, at least it's here.

I read my Tarot cards the other night. This is a funny thing to me, because the basis of my religious ideals are Christian, but that only because those are the ones familiar to me, so owning and using Tarot cards while calling myself "Christian" may seem hypocritical to people, but in reality there is a lot of Christian symbology within the cards. And I say I'm a Christian, just because that's the easiest thing to say if not the closest. But, anyway, I digress. It boils down to the fact that my cards said that if I'm patient and optomistic that all my wishes will come true. This is all well and good, but I've never been the patient type.

Nice.. debatable.
Patient? Mostly only in situation where I have no choice, like at the DMV.. but even then I get ansy. I have to be doing something! I can never just wait.. I have to help it along.. and perhaps that is the problem.

Ugh.. okay. I'm rambling. I've crossed over into the realm of who-give's-a-shit. So I'm going to pretend that I like the way Dan Brown writes.

May 12, 2006

I am home from college, and I am le tired

Okay, so I had no idea one person could accumulate so much stuff in a single year, it took three hours to move all my stuff out.. granted I was only like 85 percent packed... but still.

But, I got it all home and such and it's still.. 85 percent packed.

I got a new phone on Saturday with Verizon, and there is a new number involved so if you don't have it, figure out how to get it.

This guy came into the bookstore on Tues, my first day of work, and he was adorable! Top it off with an hour's worth of flirting and the fact that he's into anime, philosophy and a firefighter to boot, and I am floored. But after a four hour conversation after I got off work.. not so cute. I am offically tired of people that don't believe in relationships and only believe in limbo.. all the benefits of a relationship and no commitment. It's just a dumb concept to the hopeless romantics.

*le sigh*

Haven't had time to really hang out with anyone.. like an hour here and such. I'm working practically full-time this summer.. at least the money will be good. Come on iMac!!!

bah! I'm done.

March 18, 2006

Legacies left unsaid

I'm getting back into slam poetry.. I was thinking about doing it at the open mic night this Thursday. The problem is I'm scared. I'm afraid that I get up there and lay down the harder bits and broken pieces of me and that I won't really say anything. I have all these words and I can fit them together to make senteces and string them together to make paragraphs and whole conversations with other people but I can't bring myself to actually say anything. Nothing's real. I'm a copy of poets past and once original ideas that are still searching for the right ways to be said. I don't think I'm the one to do it though... I am not the revolution.. I am not a revolutionary. I'm just a down-to-earth chick who is out to change the world one mind at a time by just being me, and one day teaching my unoriginality to the brightest star in the sky. That'll be my legacy.


I never thought I'd leave one behind. Just uncoherent phrases that mean nothing to no one inparticular. So many have left legacies with me, with kindness, friendship, and love. Though time is always fleeting I have enough footprints to cover all the steps I have ever walked. Each one is precious.

But my footprints in Cleveland grow cold, like his body in the hard Pennsylvania earth. And that hurts to write; hurts to think about, hurts to know. So I'm dealing by not dealing. My mantra.

January 17, 2006

Waiting again

It's raining outside. It's become a common part of the scenery for me up here, and even in light of everything good that has been happening lately I can't help but think of you.

You called Sunday night and I had been drinking. You said that you didn't want to talk to someone who was inebriated. I said fine and we hung up. You called back and tried to have a conversation with someone you didn't really seem like you wanted to talk to. There was too much silence and my addled brain couldn't take it. We hung up again, you seemed angry.

I had company up here. He was making sure that I made it to my dorm okay and that I wasn't going to be sick. We were watching a movie, Romeo & Juliet. I couldn't talk because I had company, not because I was too drunk. And yes, he's just a friend.

We need a real conversation that does not include typing. I need to hear your voice and I think that maybe you need to hear mine too.