hey, thanks.

just sayin thanks.
its just my luck.
it happens twice.
the year it counts.
the scouts are commin.
i know i requested.
yet you messed it up.
you killed my dreams.
it didnt matter at first.
i was going to play another game.
but this one has my heart.
i belong on that field.
you cant take it because i dont talk.
thanks for wrecking my dreams once this year.
spring is here.
my passion awaits me.
my clubs reshafted.
the shafts regripped.
the heads all clean.
brand new.
new balls,
new tees.
wasnt it enough that you wouldnt let me play in the fall.
guess not.
i think you just,
wanted to get rid of me.
there you have it.
now im gone.
hope ya win state.
oh yeah.
i remember.
its not going to happen.
why?
because im gone.
thanks,
thanks for ruining my senior year.

Corridors of death [the cemetary]

I stand in regret
Surrounded by a surreal set
The people who have met
A fated entitled hero
I turn slow
As I face that under my tow is the one who I called bro
It’s the most calming headstone
Each visit forces me into a serious tone
I’m searching for answers
Now I find that they’re trances
I need placement for stances
But the clues are just confusing dances
I’m sick of not giving myself chances
I’m sick of falling into false hope
This just seems to be the way I cope
Because I refuse to mope
Perhaps this is why I’m lost in my sorrow
I feel bad for not feeling sad
No feeling of anger
But I’m constantly seeking danger
I appreciate talking to strangers
Opened to the world
After my heart was poured
And strung out on a cord
Stricken with pain- stabbed by the sword
Then regurgitated and replaced without a cure
Women got in the way
Of all the words I really wanted to say
So I’ll place them here
On paper to which I’ll leave
For you to read
This is my plea
I have been guilty
Do forgive me
For heavily lacking
Faith in friends who were just tracking
My pain of guilt is stacking
As I remember packing
Their words away
Because I finally had a woman who’d stay
I learned my lesson
I realized I can only trust my friend
To hold me
And accept when I disclose me
Skin deep soaking through clothing
Not expressing any form of envy
Because they’re there to lend
The words and feelings of a friend
Dropping the mask as not to pretend
Keeping the message to send
Out in plain sight, it’s in the open
So I guess I was choking
On my own false promises
Carrying out as long as this
Measuring out my accomplishments
I’ve got a foot compared to your meters
Cutting me apart with cleavers
But I can live with the fact
Because my accomplishments don’t weigh on my back
They disregard all that is click clack
Giving the most worthless people flack
Tears on my face
Reveal I’m not in on this race
I don’t appreciate
The fact you bet on my fate
Turn the leaf to polish the slate
Follow me with passion burning to incinerate
We’re searching for more than a mate
Looking for one that maintains
A sense of all the pains
That binds themselves with chains
To remove the shackles
Allowing them to tackle
The problems that are subtle in tact
Strike back
Carry the fate in your sack
Of delusional ideals
Being eaten and wasted like meals
Finding support in submerged keels
Running from you on their heels
Stop them, they might stray
Cage them to stay
Formed and changed like clay
I draw away
From the headstone
Leaving my lost tone
Here to roam
The corridors of death
That always captivates my breath

~Wrote that a year ago, just had to share it.

Love,
Digress.

when WE- were people

remember the suicide
holding the thoughts make me feel guilty for the sight
inflicted on the common, uncertain, eyes
each and every last place, is the beginning of a changing face
the eyes shattered into tears, and the blood bled red for disgrace
people fell and people feel
people misread the things people steal
this was a lack of confidence, a booster shot that was only to help people feel
chalk one more up to the way people wish people were real
people talk in such candid tones, with no escape from the skin that peels
OR-ANN-Ges give people the nutrition people can conceal
within the skin an itch for the new flavor of sin
people walk away and turn slowly so that people can begin
people can't deal with the fact that loss is so serious
it bothers this one, the man sitting quietly behind his tears
shed on the paper blotted ink in the memories people shred
insanity lingers in this mans hand and is used as a tool to tread
on the things he wishes he could leave behind for dead
this is a new era for the ones he refers to with care
a community to build where people can exist with abilities to share
a grand achievement in a Marxist ideal for flair
shiny but cheap, and expensively thrown down the stairs
if people could skip down stares then people wouldn't ever challenge the look
history repeats itself and people forget that people wrote the book
no matter how average the people think they are people always are
never to take time to extenuate the mileage... no matter how far
how far... how far is too near, how far is too real? how far is to scar
and when, when exactly does scar tissue evaporate?
this man, the one behind the tears, asks this of his peers
they shrug and tell him it doesn't apply to their ideals
so that's the argument of the lost meals
people don't want to feed the brains with turning wheels
just squares, squares that have gone, lost in the WORDS IT FEELS
feelings are unexplainable, but people seem to describe it with zeal
that was the last time this man thought he could actually feel
we've lost this common boarder for the memories that peel
long lost, forgotten and set aside on pause, because people feel
or... pretend to feel.
except that man with the blotted ink scars on his paper face

~Lost in the perils of pears and pearls, no response, no way to flaunt.

Love,
Digress.

with a limited vocabulary:

Today I can't find my inspiration to write the words I feel. Words are weighty, they have meaning, and so shouldn't they be used with precision and care? You see my dilemma is I wanted to write something that would flow like a river, something that would demand another go-though. I wanted to write about loneliness and being content with being alone. I wanted to write about heartbreak and loving being in love. I thought about the poetic potential of making baby quilts with patterns so inconcievable that they're not even patterns. And I thought about a friend who just got married, how I cried, how I'm scared and worried and excited for her. What happens when you think about colors....crayon colors like tickle-me-pink and teddy-bear-brown and sunshine-yellow? I wonder if there are worlds with colors I've never seen before. Some day I think I'll drive around town on a John Deer tractor and just enjoy the absurdity and slowness of the thing. Maybe the best way to explain how I'm feeling is a crash and solemnity and the quietness of a volcano erupting inside of a tornado, going 149 miles per hour in the middle of a Canadian field. Maybe it's a baby sleeping in a cradle with her mom singing silently in the kitchen. Maybe....maybe....

"the girl under the princess"

Waking up, getting ready just like any other day. Curl the hair, put on the make-up, go to the closet for the perfect outfit, and find the accessories and purse that will go just right. Seems so simple, so repetitive to have that same routine everyday. But is that all? Is that all there is to me? Just my appearance and daily image people have of me? Most people would say yes. Why? It seems so confusing. And then as I am standing outside in the sunshine, thinking, I realize that that is all there is to me. That previous statement is a lie but the way I have led my life in high school, that is all there is to me. That’s all people know of me. I am the only one that knows the rest. There is so much more. No one knows the depressing things that have happened in my life. A bad day for me still gives off the feeling that I am having a good day. It's not hard. No one knows anything about me except for the laughing times I have had. The fun side. I am a girl who is scared to reach out if it is not on paper, a girl who suffers from her superego thoughts, a girl that hides behind that daily image she gives herself everyday. As some say, “show the girl who is under the princess.” Today was one of the first days I did. And for once I was appreciated when I actually tried and showed emotion and feeling.

Why?

Why can’t I let go?
Let go of the anger that flows through my veins
like lava flows from a volcano
Destroying everything in its path.
The anger that makes my hands clench so tight
So tight that they have become an unnatural white
The anger that makes my tears set fire
Descending down my cheeks blistering with hate and pain.
Why can’t I let go?
Let go of the things you didn’t do, of the things you did do.
The pain you embedded in my soul
Leaving a permanent handprint
that aches every time your name is spoken
Why can’t I let go?
Let go of the anger that is like a thousand tons
laid upon my shoulders
The anger that weighs me down
as I attempt to move on
The pain that lurks around each corner
and is the shadow that follows my every step
Why can’t I let go?
Let go so I can finally be free

Today's forecast: Rainy, with no chance of sun

Crash! *Flicker of light* BOOM!! Rain drops start pouring from the dull, grey sky. Mothers rushing their kids inside, couples go dashing to their cars; everyone’s heading for cover to stay dry – everyone but me. I find myself just standing – staring – nothing’s going right, and everything’s a mess. Rain drops splashing all around me – people look – but I don’t see. I spin and spin with my head towards the sky. I drop to my knees with my eyes squeezed shut. I bang my fist on the ground and scream in frustration, anger, whatever it was. The tears start to fall – I’ve just had enough. From my knees to my stomach I slowly fall, lying there, on the cold, wet, clammy concrete. My shoulder’s heaving in deep sobs. ‘It’s just not fair!’ I scream, as I hit the ground once more. I forgave him. I told him that I still did, and always would, love him – nothing seemed to work, and before my eyes, he started deteriorating. I wanted him to open up; to tell me what was wrong. I would’ve listened! But I guess I just wasn’t good enough. He accepted my decision well, or so I thought. He went through a drastic change – he seemed so unhappy – but I thought he was just playing a game. His laughter wasn’t the same. There was fear in his eyes. I didn’t know my touch made it hard for him to breathe or made him cry at night. He needed to talk to someone, and that someone was me, but he thought I wouldn’t care, so he couldn’t release his fears. In the blink of an eye, he was gone. He couldn’t hang on anymore, so he just let go. I’m sorry that you couldn’t hold on. I’m so very sorry – it’s completely my fault – if only I stayed with you; said ‘I love you’ back, you’d still be here, and your presence I wouldn’t lack. I remember that day so clear – the day I found out – filled with depression, confusion, and fear. Two years ago today, you drew your last breath and *snap* you were gone. I never got the chance to say goodbye, so long. Rain is falling outside my window; down pouring – I wish I could see him. Oh how I miss him. Leyba – you’ve asked us what we see through our window – today it is a sunny spring day – but not for me. That’s not what I see through my window. Today, is the same as the day that I lost him, it is pouring rain and full of pain and sorrow. It's a gloomy, rainy day, with no chance of sun.

The joke is on the liar

it was funny at first
then the jokes went beyond laughter
and now its forced in the here after
so how many more times will calculate the aperture?
a fork for the delusional psychopaths
left or right? pack up take flight
throw down and get ready to move around
this was the man who never took time seriously
never took things as if he should be considering
listing to the sad sob song the bottled whittling
tearing down the sky scrapers breaking bounds
he was an anti establishment establishing only this
the tell tale tall tales were were just short stories
this was glass when the mind decided to break
and now we're lost on this isolated track
figuring the thoughts to be just a side effect
he took time when he held his breath
now he's flippin' burgers with the lose leaf
new proverbs told him to run from the trees
running from desperate clawing he performed at his knees
this was the escape he took from the grief
looking away-- he couldn't believe we was bereaved
she died that night with him at her side
talking in her sleep as she did when thoughts and disease did collide
bleeding internally from the secrets she confined
open doors were placed with locks and now there's no exit
placed in a fountain of disbelief, he's still running from his grief
little did he know that deep down inside he would never really miss her
because she was the third, not truly his wife
he told her he loved her more it was lies once more
this was the last he saw his true family
they left him when they discovered is facsimile of their tragedy
his family died with him when he committed the suicide
committed himself to a hell for him to reside
even though he hasn't died
he drowned in his pain that he tried to hide
this was the fame he attempted to claim
dead
this was the reign he attempted to embrace
dead
this was the family that he lied to for support
now he's like the dog-- curled up under the porch

~Shiny Black FBI shoes. Shiny Black Portions of my mind.

Love,
Digress.

Things I Love...

I love peaks over fourteen thousand feet, the thin, oxygen-depleted air, the view of hundreds of miles out in 360 degrees, the sky and mountains meeting as one, the jagged ridges leading up to the pointed peaks towering like giants above. I love the feeling of my heart pumping, my lungs heaving, and my legs moving beneath me. I love the wind rushing toward me while my legs pump and the thin tires hum against the pavement, bouncing across rocks as the fat tires grip and slide, the quick turns, tiny adjustments and balancing acts. I love the feeling of a good hit—Pop!—crashing in the snow, limbs flailing, flying and changing momentum, rolling, popping back up from a big crash and riding off again without missing a beat. I love lacrosse. I love cutting back across the field as the defender falls to his knees, the snap of the twine when I pin the corner, the sound of the stick cutting the air, and knowing where someone is going before they do. I love the feeling of a long awaited victory.
I love the sound the snow makes beneath my feet. I love the sound of the wind whizzing past my ears, and the feeling of gliding over fresh powder. I love watching the ground fall from under my feet and the feeling of weightlessness that comes soon after. I love growing apart from my shadow and watching it cruise along the ground from high above.
I love flying.
I love the cold, crisp, morning air. I love cold nights and summer days. I love spring. I love the winter and I love the summer. I love blizzards, rain, ice, grass, and the sun on my face.
I love dancing.
I love worthless nights with good friends. I love laughter that feeds itself. I love arguments like old married couples, “bonding,” random, idiotic competition, fireworks, and “ruckus.” I love inside jokes. I love eagles in rooms and lifelong friends.
I love life and the beauty of it all.

Me doing what I love.^

Done Too Much?

Ever feel like what you do is not enough?
Like you just seem to give too much?
It seems like what your saying is too conceded
And everyone will think you’re over-rated
But I think that most everyone has felt this way.
Its time to vent
Stop getting bent out of shape
To say all the things left unsaid
To weigh the consequences
And lay my words down.
I dreaded saying anything for so long
Thinking im always wrong
This constant game of ping-pong
Has gone on for far too long.
I do all the things I do
Just because I needed you
To be there,
At least acting like you cared.
Maybe you do
And maybe you did
Maybe I just took everything like it shouldn’t have been
I wanted
I needed some kind of friend
To be there till the very end
I didn’t
And still do not
Have any kind of support system.
Just my luck
So now I stand in utter confusion
The same familiar place I once was used in
And pray to god, its not here again.
I can’t take the pain of fighting
And losing a friend all over again.

Growing up too young?

I don’t know what to feel,
Or which way to go.
Life is getting harder,
Including my life at home.
Constant fights happening again,
Heads bashing like football linemen.
All our fights ending in tears,
My tears.
Crashing to the floor,
Consisting of all my fears.
Everything was going great,
No more fights,
But wait! What’s this?
Everything from my past is thrown back in my face,
Like a gang members fist.
This time with twice the pain,
Twice the force.
Tears falling down like razor blades,
Everything’s different,
Everything except for the source.
Spending the night
In my cold, grey, ’98 Saturn,
With tear stained cheeks,
The ache in my heart was returning.
Thinking out loud til 5 in the morning,
What did I do wrong this time?
Where was my warning?
How did I end up spending the night on my own?
Packed up and left,
And now I’m sitting here all alone.
But he told me to go!
He told me to leave!
I wanted to be on my own,
At least that’s what he believed.
Now that I know what it’s like to be on my own,
I have to decide it I want to go back home.
Do I want to go back to the face to face brawls,
Ending with me making tear streaming phone calls?
Do I want the feeling of security –
Of a roof over my head?
Or do I want to create my own,
And be with out a warm bed?
Why should I go back,
When all I try to do is obey?
He told me to leave,
So I obeyed.
I packed my bag and ran down the stairway.
But he is still angry with me,
Why?
I have no idea because all I did was obey him,
And once again it’s my tears that I’m trying to swim in.
I have no where to go,
No one to turn to,
And the song of my life is still unsung.
So I’m going to head back home,
Because I guess you just can’t
Grow up too young.

Carry this with you

Hold on to this and never let it go. Sometimes it won’t be as easy as it looks but just don’t let it go. Whether the sun is shinning or a tornado has turned your world upside down keep it with you. You’ll regret not holding on to it. The day you let go will be the day you’ll become lost in a fog of the unknown. You will be trapped in an abyss of darkness with no escape from the confusion. Unless you hold on tight. The world won’t stop just because you have been thrown to your knees. Get up, wipe the gravel away and keep going. Make it worth while. Make every tear drop like a brick of pain. Make every laugh herd around the world. Make every scream shatter glass windows. Make every heart break rip everyone’s heart in two. Make every smile a mile long. Make every kiss stop time in its place. Carry it with you, no matter which way the road turns.

invisible ink

ghost writing, a skill, a talent, derived by a mandate from the masses
they told me that when i was trying to teach their classes
so i sat back with my invisible ink pen just so i could cleanse
my paper by soaking it in words that nobody read
signing a name that was already dead
it was so easy to do, i just pumped it full of lead
i was talking into jugs and distributing the dust
each day i watch the people walk right on by at dusk
not looking either way, not giving a simple oat
just eating things that tell them they'll be stuck in their won'ts
so i sit on this corner talking vigorously about the do's and don'ts
but the porch died within the underdog
another failure to rest upon the overture
the musical instruments pumping into a new brand of pure
to be bottled and distributed as divinity, something i just can't see
as I'm watching the invisible words dripping off my soaked bleached white sheet
paper stains land on my tongue while they drift to deaf ears and blind eyes
this was the coming of the skies, i knew it, i had clairvoyance in my hair ties
it was all lies they said, until they built it up and it fell dead
watching, breathing, my contemporary art is screaming
HERCULES! DEAF HERCULES AND HIS REVOLVER!
it struggles, crawls and makes attempts that are lost in snarls
everybody watches as it simply hovers in its own self pity for moments of time
the movements were mandatory as it inhaled the slime
and now it sits
on broken logs of hallowed incandescence
it shines with a dull and unpolished brilliance
so it sits back, begging for penance while receiving no signs
this fool hearted pursuit sits on the floor content, absolutely benign
but nobody saw it, the growth it produced
the hate it concealed while it induced in the fears it removes
delivery was so absent
that nobody told a single feeling they wish they felt
because humanity is running from that scene
gasping on the ground, hiding all the misery
clawing at the wooden floor digging a hole while it screams
HERCULES! DEAF HERCULES AND HIS REVOLVER!
i just hope to god, while I'm on this wooden floor looking out the gaping windows
maybe i don't hope to god, but i hope, that this spirit won't have a black widow
and have something that tells of the dowry between pen and memory
false though it might be, this thing, in front of me, is wise as the sea
god of gods, but nobody seems to be listening
good, its a ghostwriter, a ghostly ghost
so go on with his business, keep your nose out of it
invisible ink is hard to see if you don't believe in its existing
so take back the words that i was missing
lucrative in the feelings it produces in the back of your minds
an audience of nobody sits back and claps with its giant one hand
i swear ghosts exists because i saw the pen throwing a fit
when i wrote the words that couldn't describe movements of lips
jaw flapping with ink pen diving, driving until i fall into the line
the no passing line that stretches into eternity
where roads end in the craters of calamity
giving off nothing but a feeling invisibility
so the writhing ghost hides from the feeling of insanity
little did it know when it wasn't screaming it was eating
the addiction it was trying to break free
insanity
lingering
in its bony fingertips forced into wood shavings
so i step back, and light a match
holding its irresistible warmth makes me taste its wrath
heart beats pound ear drums that drown out all other sound
as i set fire to the book of scribbled notes
pages blowing in the wind, attempting to float
and that was the end of Hercules
and that was the end of the sea breeze.

~Love letters, they all are, love letters.

Love,
Digress

shattering glass

its not easy,
it never is,
finding that perfect,
glass window.
the one with no finger prints,
the one that no matter what has to stay clean,
you know,
its perfect shape,
the way it looks just right,
right when the sun shines through it.
but in an instant,
it can shatter,
right into a million pieces,
you dont know why it break,
it bends,
hitting the floor like frozen rain.
soon it will be swept up,
but not before its dwelled upon,
remembered,
it was good to be known,
better to have known,
and can be replaced,
not with something better,
never,
something less,
always.
always
something
less.
never good enough,
not good enough,
never good enough,
but always there to repace.

felicity

Eyelashes like butterfly wings kiss velveteen lips like soft peachy fuzz. Wind through hair flows like sand through fingertips that barely touch the skin of babies, smooth like silk. Aromatic flowers ambush the summer atmosphere, tickling young lovers walking through fields of moonbeams. Naked skin reimburses time spent arguing and sparkling irises gaze deep into lifetimes full of secrets. Unknowns become vitality, awe-inspiring and ever-prominant evidences that one is created.
"Forgive my lips...they find joy in the most unexpected places."

So Exasperated.

i was so exasperated the thoughts and memories simply evaporated
it was so pure when i simply thought
but fabricating the thought wasn't quite as easy as tying that knot
tearing it apart was a lot harder than we sought
i turned to her and expressed my love, poured out my heart
and listened as it splashed on the pavement
watched as it drained into the gutter of my lament
i gave her the arrow but didn't string the bow
and piece by piece i slowly sit down and put pieces of puzzles in packages to stow
when was the jigsaw forced by the police to solve?
we sat together but i don't know if we were in the same book
because my page read love, while her's reads lucidly mistook
generating a feeling so desperate that i never felt its presence
we collapsed in the sate of missing independence
and now I'm patiently waiting, palms up, back down
chin slung in a disheartening posture that has been renowned
so fragile you could have broken the humans empowered
i broke like glass as i acted jubilant thought the door
one word could describe the musical score
nope, not one, not any, humanity is brevity in its chores
and caring seems to be a quickly dying lure
asking myself if speaking with candor could ruin
unlocking the door of that car to act so fluid
nobody was watching when i dangled the rope
intertwined with the memories that fade and choke
i nailed myself to the cross, but the nails were too easy to toss
i gave up simplicity for lent, so every action is cups full of regret
i never tried for that simple action, that i can't remember to forget
the drive home was insane, full of coats hanging on my racking brain
drip drip drip drying, waiting for the mouth to start blindly screaming the pain
if love had an age limit there'd be no buyers and we'd walk away from the strain
this is the brave new world, turning new leaves, playing words for thieves
escaping breath told tell tale stories of xenophobes
when i fit her in the category of those who don't operate with all their lobes
pierced and jaded as though the fate is escalating the forgettable hate
i picked up my phone and dialed the numbers that turned into words
listing the hook to a song that fell into the category of things left to explore
this was the fate that carried out that night
and i will hold its memory forever in my forgetfulness
how little i meant to the people that told us
the surroundings that asked me if it was simply trust
pointing to the horizon asking for the likes of lust
loving left and lost the living feeling but fell asleep in my arms
now i can't see past the farms I'm driving thought
asking me questions, like, I'd never been able to travel tough
i answered ornery as ever, telling hell was running past me enough
this was the last i heard about the girl who haunted the ghost stories
shattering dreams in journals that peel back and inspect the scenes
so this was what happened when i busted at the seams
and showered out love, paper machete, and candy rings
sucked on for so long the stick was showing, and the flavor evacuated
a state of fruity emergency, so if she only knew
how honestly i try to express this when i tell you
that love exists only in split seconds of truth
so sit back... let breath remove
the bad, the good, the existence
thanks love; for this.

~I got home, at one am, and i stopped at the mailbox to check and see if the mail man came.

Love,
Digress.

Hope I Don't Make A Bad Decision

“You can go, but you know how I feel,
And you know that my trust you don’t want to steal.”
The words linger on my mind like icing on a cake,
Should I go? Shouldn’t I go?
What was the right decision to make?
I hope I don’t make a bad decision,
For if I do, the consequences will be given with great precision.
I really wanted to go; this had been planned for weeks,
So I said, “see ya later. I’ll probably be home when you’re asleep.”
Driving along, down I-25,
What’s that I see out of the corner of my eye?
Red and blue lights flashing at me,
Dang!
I’m only going 5 over, how can this be?
He issues the ticket, and I’m on my way,
Just my luck! What can I say?
I get to the house where all my friends are at,
Just in time to see someone get slapped.
Every single one of them too drunk to notice;
It’s not even ten o’clock! Oh how I loathe them!
I make my way through the sea of faces,
I find my good friend sprawled out on the floor,
How much did he drink? How many cases?
I sit him up and try to open his eyes,
What is wrong? Is he going to die?
I stand him up and throw him on my back,
Grab the nearest keys and head out the back.
Drenched in a horrific stench from him,
I drive to the nearest hospital,
“Oh God, please let him live!”
Sitting in the waiting room –
The doctor’s wouldn’t let me in.
The repugnant smells are making me sick.
The smell of rubber – latex gloves,
And used syringes galore,
The smell of fear, but wait there’s more.
The smell of unfinished meals tossed,
And the unbearable smell of loved ones lost.
Silence.
Right now, that’s the only thing that exists.
My own thoughts seem to be shouting at me,
I don’t know how long I can put up with this.
Three o’clock rolls around; I want so badly to stay awake,
But with all the tears cried,
It’s hard to keep my eyes open wide.
The split second after my eyes close shut,
I’m shaken awake,
By a doctor in white, who looks very uptight.
“I’m sorry, but there was nothing we could do for your friend,
It’s probably best if you head home.”
How could I go home when it seems I have
Some sort of...frozen syndrome?
They let me in to see him one last time,
Why is it that he had to die tonight?
As I start my long drive back, I keep telling myself it’s a dream.
Full of anger…No…sadness…Or is it fear?
I pull over and bang my head on the wheel,
As I try desperately to hold back the tears.
I get to the house, my head is banging like a drum,
So I call my dad up, to give me a ride home.
Before he got there, the cops showed up.
Because of the party? Or just my pure rotten luck?
His first words upon arrival,
“I told you that your decision wasn’t right,
I told you, you shouldn’t have gone out tonight!
I can’t believe the life you’re living,
And I hope you know that you made a bad decision!”
I tell myself it wasn’t a bad decision,
He needed to put himself in my shoes,
He didn’t just lose a friend!
The tears kept on falling the entire ride home,
He had no idea where I was coming from!
That night rocked my world,
Everything was spinning,
And my mind was in a complete whirl.
The decision I made wasn’t bad,
Because that night, I was the only true friend that he had.
If I hadn’t have been there he would’ve died alone,
Because at that time his life-threatening condition was unknown.
You say that I made a bad decision,
But it, in fact, wasn’t a bad one….it was a good one.

Hope I Don't Make a Bad Decision

Hope i dont make a bad decision
when i ask you to go with me
I want to run away with you
I want you to see
Miles of black pavement
stretched ahead...
Everything i said to you
led me to believe that we would be ok
Now all is tense and you wont even look my way
I guess it was a bad decision
to let you get away...

Carry This With You

Carry this with you
where ever you may go
how high or low
near or far
wherever you are
this thing is always with you.
Its red and bursting
Its nothing when im dead
leave it be and you will begin to see
the emotion this thing causes.
But also some bliss
when i begin to miss
being around you.
Who am i?
Im the one who loves you too
and always knew the things you carry
Im the fairy you never had
inside this thing that is weary.
It needs to be filled
and hates being killed
it has a strong will
and goes for the pockets it wants
now it chose you
and it knows you will see
the person ive become
is who you want me to be.
So take a stab
cuz its all that i have
and take the chance to be with me.

meet me...

meet me where it hurts
meet me when you think you're first
we'll stick together if we could just make it further
if we count down to the place we remember
three, two, one... magic
looming in the air overhead
telling tales that were thought to be dead
a by chance chance of binomials
meet me when you think its informal
because we've got something to talk about, girl.
girl, yes, not boy, not woman, not man, not sir, not madam
beauty fades when the will power seems to weaken
i am everything you hate, i am everything i hate
welcome to the unborn, new found state
stick together and maybe things will get better
so meet me, meet me at the boarder of fallacy
on the edge of tightly intertwined discrepancy
so grab tight when you see the indivduality
i have nothing left to say
just tell me everything's okay
so that i can break away

~Iggy (Pop) and the Stooges, and White Stripes -- playing in my headphones.

P.S. I miss you all.

Love,
Digress

What A Day

Laying there, I look up, I see needles the size of a pack of gum. Laying there, I feel the pain like something is biting me. Laying there, I hear beeping and weird sounds making it almost seem like I am in a place I will never get out of. Laying there, the pressure is applied and it gives me pain that I can’t escape. I’m screaming inside, grasping anything that I can squeeze until it’s over. WHEN IS IT GOING TO BE OVER?! Laying there I wonder why is this happening to me? I am so young, WHY ME? Laying there, finally it is over. A feeling of relief rushes over me. Laying there, I am shaking. I am numb, I have no feeling on me. I sit up, more pressure is applied but it’s over and I know that I will be fine for a few hours until the numbing wears off. I sit there, unable to move, it’s so tight, I can’t breathe. I walk out and everyone is starring at me like they know exactly what just happened. I leave the audience of people with relief. Driving, I see a Starbucks and know I deserve it!

Envy tickles fingers like somber faucets to cat tongues;
Digs the trenches of exiled giggles.
Hold on-
Wear the puddle coat,
The purple one,
pockets, plum full of memories.

Throw them to the children of the mud,
They will feast for weeks on your tears
Grow flowering buds from thorny whispers.

Take bipolar leaps,
ups and downs, splashing.
Smash the grit into your flesh,
wear the story with pride.

This is the one chance,
the boldest blink, from brightest iris.
No film across the lens of decision,
no falling in the swollen net that pity holds.
This time, you've got to deal with it;
If it hurts, pinch it harder -
If it bleeds - let it flow.
Swim in the sepia of your regret.

Hope falls like clumsy children,
shins bruised from table-ends of indecision.
You've got to find the sun and grip tight,
ride the embers until you once again feel whole, holy.
Hold on to your tomorrow
Shout until you remember how to breathe again,
when the tremors have stopped rocking;
The lights through with their flicker.
Let them fade, roll and tumble.
Fumble through your pockets;
through the ashes of memory.
Scatter them along the wayside,
one, at a time,
breathe deep, hold on
and let go.

On Evacuating a Building

Suck.