This Place

Get me out of this hell hole
I ready to explode,
This place is a joke.
I have no life of reason.

I cant h o l d myself

t
o
g
e
t
h
e
r

Someone save me from myself.
This life never seemed so long.
Each day brings nothing.
Rescue me from hell,
From the place they call "so close"
From the scary monster that hides
underthebed.
These thoughs run through my head
OVERANDOVERANDOVERANDOVERAND
OVERANDOVERANDOVERANDOVERAND
AND
AND
AND
AND
Tell me everything going to trun out alright.
Tell me that im dreaming,
Wake me up from this nightmare.
Please come find me.
Please come back here.
Come get me from this hell hole,
The place
This place
This room that
That I am
That I am supposed
Supposed to
Call
Home

Veiled By Black Lace

What is this thing called life?
Supposedly a miracle at the start?
The miracle of life - on it's own - a beating heart.
What kind of miracle is that?
It's no miracle at all, as a matter of fact.
It's a life ruiner, a dream stopper too,
a goodbye to the future, a hello to the colors of pink or blue.
One night is all it takes, to change the course of life forever,
a night of fun, not meant to be a life wrecker.
Margaritas in and out of my hand like a bouncing ball,
I had enough - that was my final call.
Sweet words were said in persuasion,
I was stubling all over - he knew my situation.
Still pursuing - linking hands - a kiss on the cheek,
I couldn't fight anymore - I was just too weak.
When morning came, he kissed me goodbye -
promising a call, and then dinner and a movie -
he gazed into my eyes and smiled.
There was no call, or a dinner and a movie,
only a broken promise in the air forever lingering.
Weeks passed - weeks of me crying.
Crying - wondering why he wasn't trying.
He left me high and dry - to fend for myself -
the pain flowing through me - rich in wealth.
To find out that I was just "the girl" of the week,
and that he had a new "me" every week,
it tore my heart out -
he said that he was different -
and I believed him - having no doubt.
But here I am writing down my story as usual,
not sure what to make of what's going on.
Jagged black branches forming across my face,
although the tears are falling faster than normal,
forming a black veil of lace.
This veil covers a face; my face.
A face that shows nothing but confusion and hurt -
watching life pass her by,
as she doesn't know what to do with it,
and doesn't want anything to do with hers.

a bit extensive but it's real

And love is that simple sweet rhythm that only the lucky ones feel. It's the pounding heart, the rush of blood to your ears because...do I look the part? It's the migration of thoughts to emotions to a faith you can touch. It's never wanting to look away, only wishing we knew how to say...all the beats and pulses and jumping we feel, the butterflies in the tummy feeling that used to be bad. And I...what does it mean to be sad? Because you forget anything that doesn't remind you of their smell, a touch of skin(s), "good-night"s that end with "good morning beautiful"s. Love feels like walking by a lilac bush with a summer breeze holding your hand, and if you could ride a shooting star or remember your first tw0-wheeler bike or drink strawberry milk every day...that's what love is like. It's like losing your breath, not knowing quite why. It's loyalty and devotion and an undying desire to smile at the thought...of...a single person. It's incredible that another, one other, human being can make me, us, feel so many...feelings I never knew we had. It's giggling at ice cream dripping down a chin making polka dots on his ever-so-plain bright white t-shirt. It's forgetting to care what your hair looks like for popcorn, movies, and sweats nights. It's never-minding that I look silly in his hat, only caring that he thinks I'm cute. Love is how I become taller, stronger, wiser and quiet(er?) (because who needs lips to tell what eyes can show?) It's making cookies and brownie batter wars, super-soaker sneak-attacks and laying on (real) grasslaughing until it hurts. It's not wanting to fall asleep because you don't need to escape like dreamers do. And love is raspberry chocolate left on my tongue, velveteen lips and brand-new painted toe nails. Love is your quirky idiosyncrasies out in the open; it's black ties and flip-flops and guitar solo love melodies. Love is trust. Love is penetrating stares. Love is beauty unprecedented. And love is...and love is...everything you never thought you'd find (but you want to, you have to) and being scared but excited but unsure but giddy all at once because...LOVE is.

Dead.

i don't know if anybody's out there to hear me
but i do know that everybody in the world is a zombie
walking around, seeking cranial nutrition aimlessly
the guy who seems to sleep on the other bed is a discrepancy
he looks human but his face is full of zombie traits
blank and lacking thought when he acts awake
little does he know that late-late at night, i don't sleep, i wait
he'll arise in his dream state with eyes searching for life to take
knowing that i've been there waiting, remaining awake
preparing for the moment that my life he will take
but i won't go out that quick i won't let his presence stick
i'll stay awake until the morning arrives
once it does i'll sleep through class knowing the zombies won't try
to walk into my room and suck my brain out through my eye
and the morning star awakes and i become a new being
revolving around the thoughts and actions of sleeping
i snore and at dusk i'll rise
waiting again for the zombies to try

~Overwhelming fear of zombies. overwhelming co-dependancy.

Love,
Digress' panel of insecurity and hysteria.

Wake Up

You are...my chiped nails.

You are...my unpainted toes
for every season.

You are...my crucked crown toe ring,
on my left foot.

You are...my spakler
on the fourth of july.

You are...the hop
in my step.

You are...my bitter sweet
alarm.

Don't be the last one
to wake
me
up.

Ride

I am...your unfinished ride
ready to be rebuilt.

I am...its first paint job
since easter.

I am...grand opening.

I am...the highlight in the newspaper
your interview.

I am...

I won't be its first
breakdown.

the pianist

This is the building I call home
yet no bed occupies the space
I see no pictures of babies or siblings or pets
there's no trace of me here...

In this great wide expanse of earth and learning and people
I feel lost
I feel squashed
I am small

Yet in this single structure I am
alive
whole
....calm

A spirit of greatness is ever present
and I feel it penetrate my soul
as I play

I am a musician, an artist, a magician

the notes sing (words you and I don't know)
the sound is rich
the plink plink of the notes heals my pain
and I

......find peace

Bright Eyes, And A Beautiful Soul.

eyes bright- she undresses
her soul, right there
before my eyes
i [hissss- buzzzzz]
am attracted
i [hissss- buzzzzz]
fall victim of her beauty
and i [hisssss- buzzzzz]
connect with her lips

i feel the [hissss
...................... buzzzzz]
of our electric connectivity
and our analogue attraction
jokes, stories and experience
not to mention the desire of.......

for her a million kisses couldn't
quite capture how much
i [hisssss- buzzzzz] care
for her
nor could they replace me
when i'm [a
.................way] for weeks at a time
[ticktocktick tock tick.....tock]
time counts down until the next
...................................................Kiss....................................

PPPHHMMMMMAAAAAUUUUUHHHHHHHHH!


~Will you remember the days, placed in nooks, and laying on beds? while the music still plays.


Love,
Digress.

Looking for puddles

He looks at it, planning it, forecasting it.
He bites down hard on his lip, staring and glaring at it.
But I don’t look at it like he does. I look at it and smile and giggle a little
I look at you and ask you how beautiful it is, and see you smile.
We would both take off our coats,
that makes us the same,
But he would hand you his, put it over your shoulders, and rush you to his car
Pulling you out of the way of puddles.
He’ll tell you to hurry into your house,
And get out of it,
He’ll tell you it’s bad, it’s a bad night.
I wouldn’t hand you my coat,
unless you asked for it.
I would drop it on my porch, and walk you to the street.
Then I would smile at you, and tell you that you were right
It is beautiful.
And then I would race you home, letting you splash me with all the big puddles
(even if I see them first).
And maybe then I would stand with you in your front yard,
And tell you how beautiful you are.
And maybe then you won’t want to go into your house,
You won’t want to get out of it.
And maybe you’ll tell me that it’s a good night
It’s the best night.

Minor Scrapes and Brusies

i wake up in this hospital bed
white lights flashing, i can't grip my head
things swivel and fade out of sight
i don't know if this is day or night
i'm chained down with stress written on my face
what is this place? or is this a phase?
doctors rush in and attempt to control my sense
its not gonna work, the injuries are too intense
blood shoots from here to there, but no pain felt
i'm doped up with drugs that keep me from hell
i fade back to black, creating a prison cell

i can't believe i'm right here
injured but still able to think clear
i can't believe i'm still here
injured but able to feel the fear
i can't believe that you're here
injured but you survived

back on the road to life
i'm heading away with my girl in the seat
she's got her mind on the heat
miles more to go, and we can get off the street
out the car and we can feel our hearts beat
the traffic clears and i push the pedal down
i feel like we're traveling faster than sound
it starts to rain so i slow up, as not to drown
she seems relieved by the looks of things
downhill we go right toward our dreams

i can't believe i'm right here
injured but still able to think clear
i can't believe i'm still here
injured but able to feel the fear
i can't believe that you're here
injured but you survived

crashes and screams surround my nightmare themes
all around, no escape, i can't move nor wake
finally i pull up the courage to escape
eyes open and lock on hers as she begins to shake
gets up and walks away from the incident
i'm on pavement red with blood and an unusual tint
me and shattered glass go looking for my consequence
paramedics scrape me up and put me in the ambulance
faces fade to black and i'm in a state worse than trance

I just can't believe you survived
i can't believe you'll stay at my side
injured your perfection
you must have been ejected the proper direction
i just can't believe you still love me
can't believe you don't want to flee

~Bravery in certian circumstances.

Love,
Digress.

Looking for something you can feel; something you can hold

As long as everyone is writing about love, this was the first paper i wrote for my creative writing class up at CU.

Love rides a little lopsided, with scratched here and there,
Built up from the wear and tear, when times seemed to tough to bear.
It’s the click and a clack in your heart,
And the slow steady dark, when forgiveness is given to start,
And two souls meet and set a mark.
Love is tested, and chipped and scratched,
But still radiating precision cuts, designed to last.
It’s the taste of too many hands, to many tears,
And the barrier of years, breading those moments of absolutely no fears.
Love is like a motionless memory, and a persevering remedy.
It’s those moments at night when the light is right,
And the cold chill bites, and breathing isn’t right, your chest squeezes tight.
Love is a sigh of relief, when you suck a breath deep
And your nose to your lungs feel the wintergreen heat.
So what is love?
Love is when you aren’t scared to die, cause you’ll never be more alive

Oh and Leyba, i have a sweet creative writing intro to show you next time i come down, or ill email it or something if i can find a scanner

brave

hips grinding and drunken mistakes
it's like a movie with no good outtakes
breathing for the intake and feeling for the heartache
blindly, we all watch for the pagebreak

find a good excuse to pass that bottle
press the gas and 'blip' that throttle
stupid ass decisions, head-on collisions
you do it to yourself

sorry i'm not happy
let me apologize for myself

love is...

and love is this pensive passionate indignant way we convulse in the dark
something to hold dear and talk about our relations when your back did arc
so blindly did you follow, so long were you docile
indoctrinated by the world that you thought would never again revolve
keep the clarity clear and the hallucinations on call
you'll never again be able to feel a feeling like his enveloping arms
wrapping your body with decomposing promises he fed to the charms
they eat with impunity of your indicative nature you produce with alarm
aftermath rises from your broken tears that shatter the sky in revolving times
clock hands shifting slowly while we miss each others broken insanity
lingering here in your shadow of the decisions you made hastily
a whole new comparison for your hopeful interactions with vacancy
will keep me here in my position; a wall away from your divinity
give me one kiss and i'll give two back that's really all i ask


~No give backs. love plays for keeps.

Love,
Digress.

I DIDN'T EVEN WANT YOU TO KNOW THIS

its just the first week and i'm sick of how bad you suck
give me the letters and empty your brain on my stuff
going slowly insane is my only occupation
alone in a room with vestiges of the intimidation
no mental preparation and not a hint of inclination
to meditate or move on my own fate, i'm acting out of state
placed for the first time in a challenging situation
never before have i faced this sort of self-degradation
hate myself for not living myself, and being overcome with information
tell me once more how i can avoid this discouraging sensation

well the wind's at my back but i hold clenched fists
I SWEAR TO GOD I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO KNOW THIS
walking through the visions of the mistakes on my wrists
I SWEAR TO GOD I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO KNOW THIS
well the wind's blowing me down and i'm off your list
I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO F****NG KNOW THIS

I want to say thank you to the lovers that i miss
for being there with me through all my life's twists
but not paying enough attention while i clench my fists
grab a razor this ink is the same as cuts lining my wrists
i want to evaporate and never come back again
just because i can't seem to find people who relate to my slain
don't you see this life is full of pain? but they're blind and vain
its been a long time since i've been on the verge of crying
and this life is taking me to that crime
bottled feelings seem to be my soul's protection
it seems like now i'll never find my life's proper direction

well the wind's at my back but i hold clenched fists
I SWEAR TO GOD I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO KNOW THIS
walking through the visions of the mistakes on my wrists
I SWEAR TO GOD I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO KNOW THIS
well the wind's blowing me down and i'm off your list
I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO F****NG KNOW THIS

i confide in myself for not loving myself, and live in regret
the kids down the hall seem to love each other willingly
i'm whisky drinking with no support from their calamity
sitting all alone never felt so alone with this death grip of my past
it was the lovers that i wish my apathy could outlast
not again will i be able to look with a straight face
strewn about because right now i can't keep a pace
i've got my own brand new place, bottom of the list
bottom peg, forced on the last shelf, and i start with myself
paranoia and insanity breeding in my northern region hell
i'm burning rubber to get out of here, but i'm going nowhere.
burning rubber to evaporate, but this is my fate.

well the wind's at my back but i hold clenched fists
I SWEAR TO GOD I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO KNOW THIS
walking through the visions of the mistakes on my wrists
I SWEAR TO GOD I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO KNOW THIS
well the wind's blowing me down and i'm off your list
I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO F****NG KNOW THIS

~Roughly cut, my prision is...

Love,
Digress.

Setting:
He plays his heart out,
With everything at hand,
He asks him self what this is about,
Its always the same pain,
Magic happens with-in his skin,
Though he has no one to blame,
He l i v e s for his music,
With out that he would die,
His only passion,
Though some aren't his fashion,
He fancy's his voice,
He has no choice,
He plays for me,
As he comes to see,
I know what he really means.
He screams his emotions,
With every living
devotion.
Delievring the effect of life,
The meaning to his past,
And our pleasnt future.
Again he strums,
He drums,
I wink,
With in
one
split
blink.
Reality.

the first days

sitting here in this little room makes me miss colorado
and my mom
and the snow
and a palm trees isn't quite the same as a colorado blue spruce
growing up is one of those things that everyone does
but i feel so alone
it's one of those things that'll pass
but right now
i need familiarity
so i'm coming to a place i know
to feel lonely

Black Branches, Colored Carpets, and Buttprints in the Sand

Memories not wanting to be forgotten
are falling down my face,
followed by relationships
I don’t want to leave behind.
Creating jagged branches of black
that spread across my face
then descend to the floor,
staining the once white carpet.

Who gets white carpet anyways?
It only gets dirty and worn.
Black.
Now that’s more like it.
No need to hide my life stains –
they just blend in.
Maybe blue carpet,
to hide my tears of sadness,
or red to hide the nights of pain;
maybe a fading pink,
from the nights my heart felt so brutally slain.
And green to hide my envy
of who he was with instead of me.
Purple carpet to hide all my restless nights
or all my broken dreams
that might as well have been artificial;
or perhaps carpet the color of an orange rose,
to hide the tears I shed
desiring to be good enough for once.
Colors I wish were there,
so my life stains weren’t visible
for everyone to see.
But I’m stuck with white –
showing all that I’ve gone through -
my jaded innocence.

Grazing my hand across my face,
I smear the black branches
into streaks of uncertainty;
sheets of tears continuing down,
making the streaks of uncertainty
start to droop and deform –
once again re-organizing
into a tangled mess of jagged,
this time broken,
black branches.

I’m back where I started,
no further ahead,
but maybe a little further behind;
tears fearing the unknown
still falling from my eyes.
I’ve got no where to hide them
as they fall gracefully,
discoloring where they land.
I fear where I’m going,
even more that I’m going no where,
and just making buttprints in the sand.

One more party

And its broken hearted industy
Brake lights bleed so invisibly
Stuck inside your tyrany
And all you do is stare at me
Cause im so scared of what we could be
And wish that you could see
Just wish that you could see..

And we tried to fall apart
both broke are hearts
And whenever we start
We fall just off the mark
Twice lost in the dark
Broke unable to start
Still wanting to start

What happens when the song ends
Cause I can see, its to strong to bend
Ran out of all your strength to lend
The pen break again
And we’re both hurt again

i've said it before

just before i say goodbye i wanna say thanks
thanks for watching me grow
and letting me show
a new side of me

thanks for being you,
unafraid to be true,
and showing me that new...
can be beautiful

thanks for seeing me for me
and helping me believe
in who me could be

so many more things to thank you for...
but you know i'm (not?) one for many words
so here i wanna say "thank you"
most sincerely
and goodbye
and i'll miss our 7 o'clock talks

~peace out, b.b.b.b.
from the b.b.e.

heaven

On the counter
A little slice of heaven
Just for me