Winter Blues

UHM HI SO THIS WHOLE WINTER THING NEEDS TO STOP IMMEADIATELY.
Thank you.
I hate cold.
so much.
so
so
so
soooooooooo much!!!
It's CLOUDY and COLD and WINDY and I NEED THE SUN!
I'm gonnna LOOOOOSSSSEEE ITTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
kay bye.

Mr. Dunce inspired me to write about eyes..

This is no where NEAR as good as his piece... but I kinda like it..

Eyes.
They glow.
Some say they are windows to the soul.
I am drawn to meet their gaze
with my own, but
the feelings they express
make me break away.
Those windows
to your soul-
I'm afraid to look through.
If I see your soul-
suddenly you will become frighteningly real.
If you are real-
well then, I can't laugh you off.
And I'll have lost
my only escape route.

The Month Long Project that I stopped after February like...10th?

Over,
Long gone.
You are called Voldemort by my friends.
I wish you were Voldemort,
because then you would
repulse me.
My tummy wouldn't flutter
when you smile.
We would be over,
long gone,
and done.
You're already a distant memory- I found someone new.
Maybe not as distant as I would hope you are,
[**Here is where I stopped, but I'm finishing it because I hate unfinished work**]
but distant nonetheless.
Don't think
you can just smile at me and say "Hey"
the next time you realise I don't text you anymore.
But wait-
you didn't notice anyways,
and I'm agitated to know-
you still can strike a chord in my heart.
You fluster me!
Stop it!
I can't be around you,
because I have to move on,
but how will I know if I have
if I just don't see you?
If you could just man up
and actually acknowledge that we were close to being friends
it would be so much easier
to be over you.


Yeah so I just typed that ending out in about a minute, basically word vomit, to quote Danielle.. :]

Groupie

I'm confused.
Yesterday, we were friends-
today, we aren't.
Or maybe-
I fooled myself.
Or maybe-
you fooled me.
I let myself get caught up in the illusion of
who you want people to think you are.
We all put on this illusion
to some degree,
but I guess I thought
I was special.
I thought the you I knew
was real.
I thought I was allowed
in the inner circle-
a close friend.
Turns out,
I'm just a groupie,
hanging on for dear life.
Guess what?
I let go.

Afternoons, waiting

Snatching green leaves off
a little bush,
I'm angry.
Angry in an empty parking lot,
empty except for me and
a quiet Indian boy.
He never talks-
to me-
but this routine is daily.
A car passes by.
I look up-
but it's not my ride.

After I rip the leaf from the bush,
I flick it away,
not bothering to watch
it's downward spiral.
We are silent,
but we are not uncomfortable.
We are just there.
A car passes by.
I look up-
but it's not my ride.

I move onto the next bush,
unsuspecting and
alive.
I tear these leaves to shreds
as I remember the words of my mother.
She told me that
taking leaves from a bush
is like
a giant taking arms
from me.
I'm sorry to hurt this bush.
But there's nothing for me to do but
rip these leaves and
not talk to
the quiet Indian boy.
A car passes by.
I look up-
but it's not my ride.

I turn, but
the quiet Indian boy
is gone.

Lots of Stuff

Like a Stone

Pressure always building
in my chest.
Tension, I'm on edge.
What is this anticipation
that I feel?

Like stepping to the end
of a very steep cliff,
all I know is the long way down.
The time is coming,
for what, I don't know.

When the moment arrives to leap,
leap into oblivion,
the sky,
my soul,
I'll either fly-
or drop.
Like
a
stone.


Victory and Pride

Arguments and anger
make so much sense
in the start.

Indignant and
self-righteous,
the yelling begins.

But yelling turns
to crying turns
to wondering
what have I done?

The long battle
has commenced
and there is no turning back.

Victory never tastes as sweet
as we think it will.
But pride, foolish pride,
makes us eat our triumph
with a smile.

Fight or Flight

I'm not much one for
talking about things
that can't be laughed off or forgotten.

I'd rather keep things light
so my baggage won't
weigh me down.

Tension and
uncomfortable feelings-
t0 me-
just aren't worth it.

When things get tough,
really start to matter,
consider me gone.
Flight over fight
will win every time.

Dreaming in the Daytime

Flickers of memories
fly through my mind
like pictures in a flip book.
But
not many pictures are connected.
They move too fast
for me to tell if they're real.
Memories
Old dreams
new endings
or fresh ideas?
I can't tell the difference.
Forgotten friends,
tucked away in the recesses
of my brain,
smile at me-
younger me-
and fade away to the
next pictures.
Inconsequential moments suddenly echo,
linger, in my thoughts,
as I stare out a window-
eyes, unseeing,
but
mind, alive.

Anger

HIT ME!
Go on, please.
Do it.
Hit me.
At least then,
I wouldn't feel wrong
for feeling so angry.
I can't go on,
day after day, being
the person everyone expects me to be.
I've had such high standards for myself-
it's everything, who I've become.
The pressure to be what I want
is making a hypocrite of me.
So HIT ME!
Please hit me-
so I can hit back.

Oh wow..

So I haven't posted in a while..
I kinda got out of the groove of writing frequently, and then my mom's fiancee crashed our computer and I forgot my log-in info..yippee.
I'll put up some stuff soon, I just gotta finish the last section of my online driver's ed! WOOHOOO I'm getting my license next week hopefully!

Peace, Love, and No Drama-
Sunshiney Still.