(no subject)
i ask for blue eyes mirrored in tablets as big as my pupils and for a cut straw. sink in a bed made of oceans and try to keep body balanced while mind plunges and emerges, up and down and curves around the room, vanilla light stemming from whipping candle flames. i ask for apple juice and a hug, praise yawei for a drink of wine. "it's on your lips, baby," and i wipe it away, not moved by words but melted by memories.
the only unrequited lover i ever had was a textbook squishing my brain at the foot of my bed. used to be i could play the game, play it well and still accomplish great works with my friends. now ignored essays gnaw at time, ticking softly in my ears, pounding me while i sleep in borrowed hours i never paid back. won't every pay back. i dream of seas and palm trees and men's oxford shirts and a bed on a boxspring. it's not high school, and it wasn't the real world. can't you see? there is no real world. people are real, their skin making fire between sheets and cocktail glasses, first glances frozen in a moment captured by the soul. the real world is a beer can on the sidewalk, bent and well-used. i pick it up and taste the breath of the streets, make love to traces of human existance. a woman walks by, stares. "can't you see? this is who we are!" her dog starts barking and i run until i don't see the asphalt, just yellow stripes leading anywhere.
i've been across the country with a plastic duck with a mustache, gotten trashed every single day for a year. been in love, been loved, smoked the greenest buds short of the carribean. failed and succeeded, both unexpectedly. slept in foreign and familiar beds, smells, lips, cars. been skinny and not. waited long hours, lived lifetimes in seconds and still, still, still, i am still at square one. so young and so old, still caught in masts of pirate ships, in pieces of sand frozen with faux november florida chill. in IM boxes and bev naps and the aloha system, dinner checks, wooden desks, essays, car seats and joints, pills, hallucinogens, chapped lips, laughter, lots of laughter, and your eyes when they're brimming with tears.
i've learned nothing and suffocated everything, and i'm shivering.
the overwhelming choice said
i'm just a girl inside a page
and if that's true, if that's true, if that's true,
then what the fuck have i been doing the last six years?
how did i end up here?
how did i find love and conquer all my fears?
see, i made it out.
out from under the sun.
and the truth is that i feel better because i've forgiven everyone.
the only unrequited lover i ever had was a textbook squishing my brain at the foot of my bed. used to be i could play the game, play it well and still accomplish great works with my friends. now ignored essays gnaw at time, ticking softly in my ears, pounding me while i sleep in borrowed hours i never paid back. won't every pay back. i dream of seas and palm trees and men's oxford shirts and a bed on a boxspring. it's not high school, and it wasn't the real world. can't you see? there is no real world. people are real, their skin making fire between sheets and cocktail glasses, first glances frozen in a moment captured by the soul. the real world is a beer can on the sidewalk, bent and well-used. i pick it up and taste the breath of the streets, make love to traces of human existance. a woman walks by, stares. "can't you see? this is who we are!" her dog starts barking and i run until i don't see the asphalt, just yellow stripes leading anywhere.
i've been across the country with a plastic duck with a mustache, gotten trashed every single day for a year. been in love, been loved, smoked the greenest buds short of the carribean. failed and succeeded, both unexpectedly. slept in foreign and familiar beds, smells, lips, cars. been skinny and not. waited long hours, lived lifetimes in seconds and still, still, still, i am still at square one. so young and so old, still caught in masts of pirate ships, in pieces of sand frozen with faux november florida chill. in IM boxes and bev naps and the aloha system, dinner checks, wooden desks, essays, car seats and joints, pills, hallucinogens, chapped lips, laughter, lots of laughter, and your eyes when they're brimming with tears.
i've learned nothing and suffocated everything, and i'm shivering.
the overwhelming choice said
i'm just a girl inside a page
and if that's true, if that's true, if that's true,
then what the fuck have i been doing the last six years?
how did i end up here?
how did i find love and conquer all my fears?
see, i made it out.
out from under the sun.
and the truth is that i feel better because i've forgiven everyone.