Is this it?

I think when it becomes too quiet

quiet enough to hear a pin drop

or a seemingly rational thought

that invades my already cluttered brain.

quick! I think, as I evict the ugly feeling in my head

with something more relevant

that may or may not make sense

that may or may not be true

Is this it?

Its too overwhelming, the silence.

So I fill it with noise

loud comforting noise to distract me from the truth.

what will I do with myself when you come back

and I learn for certain that you're not enough

to keep out even the smallest of ghosts from creeping

into my bed

Now at least you make a good distraction

from the persistant and ever present feeling

of imminent dread.

but what will I do

when you fail to relieve any of this pressure in my head

your face isn't at all how I remember it

this anxious, throw-up feeling is familiar though

its never over

I can try

and I will

but you are always there to remind me

of what I've been searching for my entire life

I've crossed oceans and time zones

I've searched the pages of countless books

looking for the answers to my trying questions

this is only worth it if love is real

how can I know?

whats the point of all this mess

in the end its you and I know it

why fight myself

if you would leave me alone I could breath again

and if I asked you to lose my number you would

ha. but we all know I never will.

lets begin again

lets start all over

because you've broken my heart a hundred times

without even one attempt

thats so much power!

and to think I handed it over

with a smile on my face and my eyes closed tight

never again will I be so trusting

that is why I fight for you

you are it.

There once was a little girl.  She was very safe and very warm and very loved.  The little girl had a mother and a father.  She thought they would live forever. They didn't.  She thought she would be lost without them, and she was. For months and months the little girl wandered around, only half awake.  Being fully awake was much too much to deal with for the little girl.  For months and months the little girl kept her eyes only half-way open.  To have them fully open ran the risk of seeing something fully, which was also much too much to deal with.  One day after months and months of slumber, the little girl woke up! She decided that she was tired of seeing things only half way.  She was tired of being numb.  From that day on the little girl vowed to see it all!  Part of her was mad at herself for wasting so much time.  But the other part of her knew that it was innevitable.  To be thrown out in the cold ( metaphorically speaking of course ) and not bring a sweater was foolish.  So she excused herself and moved on.

When my mother died I was given the task of rounding up pictures of her to make a collage for the memorial.  Mormans love collages.  I saw all these pictures of her and my dad before my brother and I were born.  They looked so happy, she looked so happy.  Much happier than I had ever seen her.  God did I want a part of that.  So I found a boy that fit the part and threw everything into making it happen.  But it didn't really turn out the way I had planned.  And now I'm sitting here thinking "what the hell was I thinking?" Yeah maybe she was happy, maybe she was stoned...but what does that have to do with me. I am not my mother.  This is my life.  I guess I want to live the life she should have led.  In that case I should forget about the boy as soon as possible.  But I am my mother's daughter, and I am quite persistant.

outrage!

injustice!

but Im sorry I just can't be bothered

Id rather live my life on an island paradise

than try to fix the world

its just too much work

and Im lazy

and selfish

but what the fuck, so are you.

oh you will hate yourself in just about a second

Im gonna make you hate yourself so bad

and revenge is on my list

of things to do

along with your best friend

and you're uncle too

yeah I might regret this

but not as much as I regret you

I never should have said

I don't like phone calls

I miss you

the least you could do

is break my heart

what kind of poet

gives up on a girl

just cause shes in it for some thrills

boy I wanna be chased

by everyone

including you

how can I say

Ive never been there anyway

Oh well Ill talk it up

fill up the air with laughs and insight

talk about the right

to happiness and freedom

and you.

come fill me up with come- over promises

that Ill believe with no resolve

lets just be honest

I'll put it all out for the world to see

I love you

and I think I  always will

and you can keep your girl

if she makes you happy

but I would take care of you

like no other

so you think you made me

but I was the shit before you

and I'll be the shit always

you're only fun when you dont talk

you're only fun when you keep your hands off my butt

So I guess you're only fun when you take me out

to show me off.