To A

Someday you are going to fall in love.
And then you'll see,

you'll just see.

Oh A...

Sigh.

Love.
Would you hate the sun,
for kissing it's blossoming flower?
Would you hate the blind man,
for smiling at the scent of the rain?
Would you hate the buttercups,
feeling so fondly of your chin?
And lastly,
would you hate she, i, me.
For saying I believe,
and loving?

love.

"and you will love your crooked neighbor,
with all your crooked heart."


-a. y.

A small confession.

The number of hours
I have spent
Counting the tiles
And tracing your name


Is far,
far too many.

Her again.

She stares at the window.

Watching the rain.
It falls.
It falls.
Learning to write with periods,
she's trying.
Learning to make more sense,
she's thinking.
She wonders.
How many daffodils can fit in your head?
How many buttercups can show the sun?
and dear,
why am I thinking of flowers?
She screams to herself.
Or utters.

And in truth,
she never really was so sure.

There she goes, quoting her thoughts.

"As i refuse to write missing poems.
they make me miss you more,

and far too much."

Sosomuch.

Me.

She likes the smell of stale air.
It reminds her of herself.

She likes the look of periods.
And cut short,
little,
sentences.
The long ones bask out for muchtoomanyforevers,
and then,
then,
then...

Although it's not expected,
she can't but help
to find her self
writing,
scribbling,
plotting,
these muchtoomanyforevers.
All filled with ridiculous commas.
Commas.
Another thing she hates.

Perhaps she writes long, so that she,
can cast herself in their own lengthy shadows.
So that she can become important.

She likes the look of mirrors.
They remind her of herself.

To...(aldkfad)

I love words.



Write me some pretty words.

-y.

For R...

"I sit up so the tears fall easier,"

She lied down
letting acidic sadness
bore through her eyes
and leak acidic holes
into her sad skull.


Again,


"I sat up so the tears would fall easier..."

-y.

Moonbeam notes...

White

gray

and yellow.

So many numbers.
A field of numbers.
Nothing I will ever calculate.
Ever care for.
And so I lose myself again,
Kissing this very sky,
full of

white

gray

and yellow...

Somewhere between the trees.

the moon is out for kill
tonight.
kill tonight,
kill tonight.
for she wants to end your
very life.
life, life, life.
the sun went the wrong way again
forgot to
buy the milk again
so the moon is out to kill
tonight
oh,

Ay Ay Ay.

As they once were flutterbys.

Somewheres

Somewhere,
there is a (somewhat) tall girl pretending she's a (somewhat) small girl,
pacing her way through the (somewhat) cold rain and (somewhat) muddied streets,
in a (somewhat) giant purple rain coat. She thinks about how...

Somewhere,
there is a (very) tall boy in a (very) yellow sweatshirt,
seeing the world through his (very) dulling glasses and fixing his (very) unruly lion hair.
Looking out a (very) wet bus window, where he (very) wishes he wasn't.

Somewhere,
there is a (strange) small girl, who believes she's a (strange) tall girl,
counting the sounds of her (strange) steps as she trudges the (strange) steep concrete road
leading it's way to her (strange) little half-done house.
Awaiting a (strange) fevered call from a loved one, a love
seeing (strange) shadow ghosts.

Somewhere,
there is a lonely (little) pair of galoshes,
sitting on a (little) stand in a store,
admiring the pretty (little) high heels,
perhaps wishing that a tall girl in need of (little) galoshes would have cared enough,
to make a (little) purchase.

Somewhere,
there is a pathetic (clumsy) tuesday that has been very wet.
This (clumsy) tuesday doesn't want to be a stupid tuesday.
In (clumsy) truth, it wishes it was wednesday.
So that everyone and everybody,
could stop complaining of it's (clumsy) rain and just
live a little. It thinks about how...

Somewhere,
there is (love.)

Adeline Olivia.

"It's like rain,"

She,

had said.
Had whispered.
Had thought.
Her concave gaze was fixed towards the sky,
as her alabaster feet stood solidly on the ground.

Surveying the muddied earth, she parted her lips
To catch,
to catch a breath of muddied air.
A sweet scent found it's way through her passage,
and curling in on itself,
filled her withered lungs with it's own sweet purfumes.

"Now that's the way me lady likes it..."

her voice cracked and growled,
while she let her insides
screw themselves silly.

Then,

twisting her crooked frame
and fixing her crooked hair,
she curved her lips to unveil
a pattering
of crooked teeth.

"...how the stars all wish they were me..."

she spoke,
with absolute love,
and absolute longing,
to absolutely no one
in particular.

As,

that was the day her voice seemed to scare
the prettiest of birds away.
By the beating of yellow wings and the peck of orange beaks,
an endless cloud of flight was made.

Away,

and away,

and away.

"Oh,"

"how I've always,"

"...loved rain."

Adeline croons to her stars.

"And oh,"

"how I've wished,"

"...it was I."

Es-cap-ay.

In this space,

this whirlwind,

this planet.

In this space,

this city,

this building.

In this house,

this bedroom,

this bed.

Between this moonlight,

this window,

these sheets.

You can't escape your own heartbeat.


As if it's like I'd try.

Victor.

He notices your step
And follows where you lead

He lives alone
No house or home

And repents for his bad deeds.

(The faithful story of Victor,
the (self hate) shadow monster.)

Underwater fantasies

I fell asleep with mermaids
In the ocean swell
In the corners of their seaweed castle
Soft kelp beds served me well

Next to three pretty fish
I fell in love with one.
Salty eyes and sugar lips
Whose morals lay untouched...

(Yet)

I can't swim myself
So I can't save myself

My dreams revolve around her seas
And hers about my land
When I won't swim and she can't walk
Nature never understands

The night the sky was melting
When I fell in love with thee
These mermaids they were fighting
Fighting over me

(Yet)

I can't swim myself
So I can't save myself.

"For I have lost, I cannot stay.
While you're the price I must pay."

Face first in salty spray
A scar cross her head, had she
This lovely heart I could have saved
When I only thought of me.

BAM.

i is aqua girl.

fear me.

now.

French.

He has or she has.
Or are there any...oh no they're all singular
MICHELLE?
if it doesn't have an LE on
the end it's masculine.
So lets see
and this word SYMPATHIC
you don't have to add any because
SYMPATHIC already an E
Yarra how are you going to finish this?
MADAME SIMON, let's see she has some
interesting neighbors.
We're talking about ALICE...she
is American and she has some girlfriends...
*giggles*
Girls who are friends.