over again

it's been a while, again.

everyone says i should write a book.

a little peek inside my head would be nice, right?

there is this thing that will probably get me, and when i'm gone, people can dig this up, collect my thoughts in their sweaty hands, leer over the personal-ness of it all, write me down in neat white lines and pass me out to drop-eyed high school students and stick a note in the front of it:

we encourage you to share this book with your parents. if you, or someone you know, is experiencing thoughts or feelings like the ones in this book, get help now!

i'll laugh at you, you know, while you're reading.

cause it's only a fraction of who lives in here, such a very tiny part, but that's all you ever get:

me, a very tiny part, and the part that is huge is invisible.

time lapse

been a while, right? you'd think i dropped off the face of the earth.

maybe i did, who knows?

someone who looks like me is still here, though, and she's almost like the real thing.

fell apart

last night, though that's probably inaccurate; i was more like a wrecking ball tearing it down.

it isn't his fault that i can't get over it. he tried, tries, i know he does, sometimes, but what good is it to be wanted only when you're leaving? i can't be on the way out all the time. i don't want to be the threat that keeps him here.

i guess it boils down to this: i don't want to be here.

he thinks i'm crazy; thinks he should drag me to a shrink, drug me up, i'll be ok, normal, myself but leveled out. what has level ever had to do with me? i don't need leveled out, don't need cured. a drug with amnesiac properties might work, might erase everything that's brought me here, but then i'd be cheating myself out of the truth about where i am, and why.

i am not who i'm supposed to be. i have melted away somewhere along the line, left bits and pieces of myself scattered through the years and somehow i have to try and collect those pieces, patch them haphazard over the holes we've made and try and put myself back together again. i won't look the same, but i might finally be whole in a patchwork, mended sort of way.

can't sleep

as usual, by myself but not, funny how his presence can be distant and oppressive at once.

think i'll get a tattoo, six little stars, little bit of light every day.

started to call you

better not, fuck you up worse than you already are.

i thought about it though.

if i could just get some sleep

maybe everything would be ok.

just a little rest, time to chill, not think, close my eyes for longer than a second.

sat in the sun for a minute, helped a little maybe, had to come in quick and deal with life...wasn't worth the effort dragging myself off the stairs.

i want to lie in the grass and look at the stars for no reason...just a little bit of quiet...then maybe things will be ok.

must be cool to be you

beats the shit outta being me.

i love the descendents.