sixty-three

god, did you think i'd care?
care, care, care
i don't care

tunnel vision
is when you can't see
to either side
and your periphery is just
black

i find myself now, in this tunnel of sorts
but there's no light at the end
in fact, i can't see anything
i thought you'd be at the end, waiting for me
but you have your own tunnels
and there's a mirror at the end of yours
because you never see anyone
but yourself

do they complete you?
these quests for something more than me
and i bet you never thought to stick around
i bet it never crossed your mind to stay
i didn't want you to, anyway

i don't care, i don't care

sixty-two

i'm leaving.
you can have whatever you can take
because i don't need it,
not where i'm going

there won't be a last time
it already happened
i'm erasing all of these memories
i want to start anew
(without you, without you)

my solitude will always be
the one thing you can't have

sixty-one

i lie in bed
lost between dreams and waking
pillow soft and blanket sweet
warmth and life
comfort

you came inside and tore me awake
pulling covers, shouting
threw me on the ground
i was afraid, like a little girl
lost in the cold, naked
hurled into wet darkness
i cannot scream or cry because
i know i did it first
i know i told you to

i was sleeping when i had you
now birthed from the womb,
i am cold, alone, disconnected
eyes closed and shouting achingly
all i never wanted is all i couldn't see
but i need this
i need to wake and grow and see you
and see you
and see you


this is for us, my love

sixty

lessons learned this summer
(part one)

staring at a picture does not make a place come alive
staring at a picture does not make a person come alive
counting down does not make days pass faster
greyhound busses are disgusting
books aren't as good if you've read them before,
(especially if you've read them three times before)
listening to music does not equal a social life
my friends are fucking amazing
i'm not as good at drawing as i used to be
my parents really suck sometimes
i will never work in the restaurant business again
atlanta is much hotter than boone, and that means too hot
cars without air conditioning suck
i love tomatoes
atlantans are awful drivers in the rain
my brothers and i get along
smoking is fun (shh)
i cannot keep my room clean (yes, i already knew that)
i'm terrible with money
i'm all about some strict routine if it involves a phone and a boy (or, the phone and the boy)
i have fun writing poetry
when my friends go away i'm sad
i love boone so much
i'm never leaving again when i go back, ever (except to go to italy)
chocolate pie made by layton's mom = wow
lisa and i are telepathically connected
i like wearing skirts (what!)
it's good to have a project
i'm addicted to online fulfillment
i like sending care packages
i'm terrible at sending letters
things get done if you do them
speeding costs lots of money
backpacking is heaven, even in the heat
i need the mountains as medicine
conor oberst is god
reuniting with old friends is good fun, especially when you're even cooler than before
i have trouble getting tan
i have trouble not eating chocolate
small boxes are hard to find
i like when people come visit me so i can give them my tour

i'm pretty much awesome

fifty-nine

i want a p.a. system
to the living isles of the world
to broadcast these emotions
to detail these intimacies

and i want to lock it away
a vaulted safe of soul
and never, ever, open it
to keep it from the light that taints

you're like a religion
profoundly sacred
and yet i want to tell the whole world
the good news

fifty-eight

oh, man.
it's that floating feeling
where you feel like you're growing
and the light inside keeps getting brighter
and your eyes and smile could light the darkest of roads
it's because of you, you know
(and how could you not!)
there is so much more here than
anything
anyhow
ever

and everything i want to say
could be summed up in one thing
but i can't say it yet
i can't say it yet
because i know this will get even better
i'm holding out hope that it has to

does it count if i say it here,
and you're not sure if it's about you or not?
and will you know if i typed it, but erased it
because i keep telling myself
not yet
not yet

but soon