Writing My Heart Out and Not Regretting It

Recent Entertainment I've Found, well, Entertaining

2011-06-27T12:40:00.000-07:00

Over the past week I have experienced two great forms of entertainment, live and from the comfort of my own home. The choice of entertainment? The Simple Plan CD release concert at Gramercy Theater in New York City on the 21st of June and the season premiere of True Blood on HBO last night.

There are a lot of positives and negatives to each "show" I witnessed recently. Going chronologically I will start with the Simple Plan CD Release Concert.

What a night! Being a long time fan of Simple Plan I was excited to see them on stage again and even more excited to hear their new songs. After a hilarious escapade of traveling into the city from New Jersey and a few quick subway trips I found myself outside the Gramercy Theater. There were fans lined up around the block and due to the fact that myself and my friends had the fortune of knowing when Simple Plan would be on we grabbed a bite to eat before joining the line and going inside.

Once inside and after the obligatory, yes I'm over 21 years old ID check, I purchased the new CD (Get Your Heart On!) and received a pass to meet the band after the show. Feeling as though I was thirteen again I restrained myself from acting as such and stored my CD away in a friend's bag for safe keeping before heading into the crowd.

Ten minutes later found us "politely" making our way towards the front as far as we could without knocking over younger fans and disgruntling their parents. When the band came on stage half an hour later I turned to a fan in the audience that I'd met during the wait and said "at least the floor is slanted, us shorties can see!" She'd barely heard me before the music kicked in and the crowd surged forward.

The band did not disappoint. The performed a variety of songs, new and old, and even did a triple encore! The most heart warming part was when the lead singer of the band stopped mid-song to ask security if a girl (who passed out in front me and was being lifted over the barricade) was okay. Once the nod from the bouncer was given to the band they started playing again, each band member casting a concerned eye to the fallen fan.

New songs such as "Can't Keep My Hands Off of You," "You Suck at Love," and "Summer Paradise" offer a nice pick-me-up that are funny and sweet enough to fit in with the classic Simple Plan songs (i.e. Addicted, Grow Up and Meet You There) while their more serious and emotional songs "This Song Saved My Life," "Astronaut," and "Gone Too Soon," were touching the hearts of fans much like earlier songs "Perfect" and "Welcome to My Life" did.

All in all the show was amazing and the opportunity to meet the band fulfilled the wishes of fans(new and old. Despite the time limit at the table with the band they made sure to shake hands, smile, hug, and sign things for every fan before their time was up.

Simple Plan remains a favorite band (as if that would ever change!)

Now, on to the Season Premiere of True Blood.
Warning, Spoilers ahead!

This show has, and please excuse the horrible pun, sucked me in from day one and this premiere did not disappoint! A reunion with Sookie's missing grandfather, faeries trying to hold humans captive, magical fruit and general insanity that we've come to love from the show took place, all within the first ten minutes!

As if the time warp plot twist wasn't enough we also saw how the lives of everyone in Bon Temps have changed while Sookie's loss of time took place. Tara has run away, becoming a cage fighter and apparent lesbian, Jason has become a cop, Bill a vampire King, and Eric continued to express an interest in Sookie as well as cutting a family-friendly commercial for the club Fangtasia.

Other surprises include Lafayette cutting his hair into a Mohawk and, at the bequest of his partner Jesus, attempting to embrace his own supernatural side; Arlene and Terry raising Arlene's son (fathered by now-dead bad guy Rene Lenier); and Andy Bellefleur being addicted to V (vampire blood.)

This season is bound to take off and only increase the shows popularity. If you're behind or have never watched the show, now is the time to get catch up and get sucked in too!

South Bound?

2011-06-21T09:46:00.001-07:00

So after a month home from school I've already had enough of everyone around here. Some people are awesome, don't get me wrong, but the majority are ass holes and I honestly cannot put up with it much longer.

So what's a girl to do? Why, move South of course!

Yeah, I may move to Maryland, two potential jobs down there and a friend to get an apartment with. We'll see what happens.

I'm a self-admitted slacker

2011-06-09T20:02:00.000-07:00

So it's been a long time since I wrote in this blog and I blame it on a crazy senior year of college. However, as I look for a job, an apartment and train my puppy (a.k.a. the best graduation gift ever!) I realize that I miss writing even if it is about my day and posted on blogspot or LJ.

I'm going to try and write more, in all respects.

<3

Revenge is Sweet

2010-08-02T15:22:00.000-07:00

So despite the fact that I've always been a bit more mature and even tempered than other people I know I couldn't resist the pleasure recent events have brought me.

Songs such as "Undo It" by Carrie Underwood have been blasting out of my car stereo as of late and, ironically, the one person I associate that song with asked me recently if that's what I think of him.

I laughed and decided not to respond but today was the prime moment to top off my recent "moving on" escapades.

After scouring the Montgomery Mall nearby I was able to find a snazzy new dress to wear to my friend's wedding. To add to that I have the perfect shoes and NOW I even have a date for said wedding.

It may not be "in-your-face" type revenge BUT it is sweet enough to know that I'm succeeding at everything I've attempted lately. Life is good.

2010-07-26T09:54:00.000-07:00

Create a playlist at MixPod.com

Spring has Sprung, Summer is here....Now What?

2010-05-16T09:37:00.001-07:00

Another school year is over and, yet again, more professors are gone. It's quite sad, actually. I suppose I'm just too much of a geek because I actually miss my teachers when summer comes. Luckily I'll be living on campus so I can still bother a few teachers about the impending fall classes.

Spring 2010
Here’s to the professor that leaves his door open
way past office hours.
To the professor that might secretly be a CIA agent,
to the professor with a fear of public speaking
that can’t seem to stop talking
and to the professor that begins class
with stories of her unruly children.
The teachers of my craft have taught me more-
much more than Shakespeare, signs & symbols,
Horror novels and the Law hidden in Literature.
These are the people who gave me a goal,
gave me a place to go,
and a new way to think.

Cheers to another year gone and now it's time to prepare for my (holy shit is it really here ) senior year of college.

Random writing

2010-04-30T21:38:00.000-07:00

E.R. 8-28-09
My head spins as an invisible force
slams through my torso.
I double over, hand clutched over my stomach
teeth closed around my chapped and cracked lips.
Emergency call, a quick rush, white walls and new sheets.
I hate hospitals.

-

Rough waves crash against the walls of my stomach
the onslaught causing sharp pains throughout my torso.
I clench my jaw tightly
and double over.
A barely audible curse
escapes my chapped lips.
-
Beautiful Nightmare
My monster
does not want to kill me.
He haunts me;
the memories of him follow me.
Blonde hair,
lean muscle,
green eyes.
He tortures me
simply by repeating those lies.
He lies about love,
about diamonds,
I dos,
and two smaller versions of ourselves.
He lies to me
every night.
I wake up,
a silent screamon my lips.

I am broken.

-

Muscles tighten and fists clench.
This playful battle is changed—different.
Our rough housing is no longer innocent.
It has changed—we’ve changed.
No longer are we undefined, lacking form,
no longer are we simply us, simply kids.
No there is something changed,
our blood boils for a new reason.
Bodies tangle, we fight, our motives changed.
The innocence in our fight is lost.

-

I still remember how my stomach flipped
when you would hold my hand
and intertwine our fingers.
You were never a lover,
always a friend,
but you should’ve been the other.
If you had been
we would still be us but better,
stronger,
happier.
I wish things were changed
but now it truly is too late.

A Song Lyric Story

2010-04-30T19:53:00.001-07:00

For my former friend...

Kiss and Control- A.F.I.
“Hearrrrrrtssss. Ourrrrr heartssss. / "We all want to die like movie stars" you said, as you jumped from the height of our cutting room floor. While above us glowing, exploding, our dreams burst forth in light in death. Hold me and tell me, "We'll burn like stars. We'll burn as we fall. Watch as the city lights DANCE FOR US!"/ City lights, like rain, Dance and explode. Fall upon the pain of our lives, /reeling from nights that Kiss and Control, Fall apart, the pain of our lives, has pain. / Dance and explode.”

~

“So maybe it’s true,” you say as you balance on the curb, with your arms outstretched as if tight rope walking at a precarious height. I smile at you as you walk.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Maybe it’s true that I get dizzy easily when kissed and that I fall in love with every girl I meet.”I walk beside you in silence.
“What’s your point?” I ask.
“But you’re the only girl to make my entire world spin and make me love her for more than a day.” You stop walking and block my path. I freeze up.
“It was a two-second kiss.” I say.
“If you never intended for me to feel this way than I only have one criticism about that kiss.”
“What?”
“It was two-seconds too long.”
You walk ahead. I follow, unsure what to say.

Moving On

2010-02-16T21:48:00.000-08:00

I'll move on,
I promise,
I'll stand up-
pack up-
and keep moving.
Without you.

Update again

2009-12-08T21:36:00.000-08:00

So, as it turns out, the new boy in my life has now placed me in limbo. He comes from a very controlling family and this complication leads me to believe that maybe it is best that I either use my emotions to write better about relationships or that I stop writing about them altogether.

We shall see.

Long Time

2009-11-01T12:24:00.001-08:00

It's been a long time since I've written- in this blog at least.

I promise to try and update more, I have just been very busy with school and work 24/7.

Note: the boy whom all past poems posted in here will no longer be my subject of love poems. We are not longer together and although I do care for him I will no longer write love poems for him. HOWEVER, I do have a new man in my life who is even better inspiration for me. The cheesy love poems will continue, just with a new subject.

Potential Submissions

2008-12-07T18:19:00.000-08:00

Hallway Antics
A boot and a book,
never meant to lead into,
this crazy friendship we have.
E-Town concrete meets Kenny Chesney,
as we rock out to whatever song plays next.
These nights become the norm,
like the hugs that happen in midair,
as you lift me off the ground,
just because you can.
I insist that I’m there as the room tutor,
and for short joke purposes only,
but we all know that’s not all there is to it.
No, there’s something more,
hidden in between the fifty times we try
to start an old diesel truck,
the two AM treks across campus
just because we’re awake,
the shouts of triumph as everyone’s favorite team,
makes the final play,
send text messages that make
the English major in me want to scream,
(but keep me smiling nonetheless)
and tell stories of road trips on audio tape.
Eventually we find that,
we owe it all to the boots and the books
that wouldn’t keep the doors propped open.
---
A sharp sound pierces the afternoon silence,
I groan and roll off my elevated bed.
My roommate giggles, the other two shout,
not wanting to go out into the cold November air.
I really wanted to take a quick nap before dinner.
I put my shoes on my bare feet
and grab my sweatshirt off the hook.
The four of us rush outside,
our neighbors bailing out of their rooms too
as the fire alarms echo down the long hallway.
The cold air wakes me up immediately
and I shiver as the wind whips through my hair.
We stand in a huddle, wishing that security would hurry up,
turn off the alarms and let us back inside.
I shiver and jump as our neighbors approach,
one putting his arms around me.
The wind cuts through my thin shoes
my bare feet now numb.
“Come here,” he mumbles,
quickly unzipping his coat and pulling me close.
I laugh and turn so I’m facing him,
my arms sliding along his shirt, wrapping around his back
his coat now my cocoon.
Smiling he puts his cigarette between his lips,
and pulls me a fraction closer,
before zipping his coat up around the both of us.
We laugh in shock that he was able to close it,
and I bury my face against his chest,
my only defense to the November weather.
After fifteen minutes we arrive back inside,
the warm air of the building a blanket to our chilled skin.
He laughs as we part ways and promises that I can take his coat
whenever I find the need.
---
Dublin
We drove through forests in flames,
the black top cutting a clear path between
the red, gold and yellow surroundings.
A man croons a love song,
his voice soothing as it exits the speakers.
My hair whips around as the wind catches it,
the open window letting me see the change of seasons
just a little bit clearer.
---
TruthI.
I sit,
tick, tick, tick,
time goes by. 30 grand a year for me to sit.
Big brother is out, twin brother drops out.
“I’ll go back I promise!”
I hope he means it.
Tick, tick, tick,
each day means I’m still too far from him.
Tick, tick, tick,
the phone rings, it’s him.
We say love and talk of cold nights
without the comfort of each other’s arms.
The phone rings again, a friend.
Another night, another trauma,
bridges beckon with promises of a new life
one of the boys from home answered the call.
Jump, jump, jump,
no splash, missing, another face on the side of a milk carton.
Headlights rush past, I crash to the ground,
hand hurts, there’s a dented sign.
Home again, comfort in his arms,
not enough to soothe the trauma that comes
when the room goes dark.
Tick, tick, tick,
three months go by in a blur,
I missed the call on Christmas morning.
Tick, tick, tick, is it worth 30 grand for me to sit?
Tick, tick, tick,
back again
new class, sit with the ticks and tocks,
summer comes, not the end,
not at all.

Truth II.
Nine months since,
jump, jump, jump.
Two years since,
love, love, love.
My boys were never friends
but at least one is still here.
Is he the one?
“The hell if I know.”
But I can hope.
Tick, tick, tick,
third semester, back again.
Goodbye 30 grand.
Parents are proud.
Tick, tick, tick,
almost a year since
jump, jump, jump.
Eleven months, five days to be exact.
Also two years and two months since
love, love, love.
Stressed out, maxed out, drained.
Yeah I’m going down.
Interviews scare me,
I need the money
don’t want the job.
Too anxious.
Can’t balance trays,
I shake worse than the clientele.
Only time will tell.
---
Central Park
Three hours spent on a line outside the walls
of what will later become our haven, our home.
We shuffle forward,
step by step,
hearts beginning to race with every gained inch.
A rush, a mad rush as thousands surge forward,
trying to get the best vantage point.
Four bodies back, we sit,
our three forms curled together.
Six hours to go.
Night begins to fall,
the lights burn bright against the blackening sky,
sun burned cheeks and anxious eyes turn toward the platform.
A rock god steps up, the noise is deafening.
Loss of hearing, lack of voice,
worth it tomorrow after seeing him under the stage lights,
singing the songs about a town, twenty minutes from my home.
---
Savior
I.
Standing on the edge of a breakdown
twelve hours to go till the clock strikes midnight.
My heart races and breaks at the same time.
Goodbye love, you will be missed.
Goodbye love, I have no one here to comfort me.
Lover is seventy miles away,
Best friend, Goodbye love, has left forever.
Who can I run to?

II.
1:34 PM, the phone rings,
the name offering hope for a saving grace,
something to keep me from breaking.
Down the stairs, to the door,
big ears and a swishing tail,
sanity for the evening.

III.
I tell my story, choke on some words along the way
concern in his eyes.
A hand on my back
a wet nose and warm fur on my lap.
Saved for the time being.

IV.
The dreaded hour approaches,
11:59 the numbers say.
It’s still night time, technically.
You wrap your arms around me
and turn my face away
from the glowing red lines.
You tell me not to worry,
that you’ll be there for me
when the hour strikes.
I cringe, knowing it’s time,
you tighten your hold
and I close my eyes.
Savior.
---
Survive
We write love on our arms,
our declaration of strength
of being able to stand up,
put the pieces back together,
and keep moving.
We’ve lost pieces of ourselves,
friends and family along the way,
gone on their own accord.
We don’t know who was the first,
to take their own life,
the one to start the disease.
But still here we stand,
love on our arms.
It’s just another day
with our badge of honor
(this time it’s actually visible.)
---
Oldsmobile
The moon hides behind clouds,
the pearl of the night sky barely visible
as I peek out through the semi-defrosted windshield,
Headlights up ahead.
It’s in this moment that I can think clearly
(even with the roar of your ’83 Cutlass in my ears.)
You and I have fallen into a comfortable pattern,
our silence may bother some people
but for us,
the light brush of your hand over mine
and the feather-light touch of my lips on your knuckles is enough.
No words required.
---
21:16
It’s winter now, December has arrived,
yet we still go ahead with our plans,
the city is calling.
We’re an hour behind, hurry now,
fast food just isn’t fast enough.
The truck roars to life,
as six bodies fly down the darkened highway.
December 5th, 2008, hour 21:16,
we’ve made it.
We feel the beat of the city beneath our feet,
and hurry across streets filled with traffic,
signals to stop and go not things that get our attention.
We rush, a line of us cutting through the crowd,
and stare at the tree that from a distance looks like it is in flames.
We wander, the mission fulfilled and find ourselves paying
six dollars more for a cup of coffee than we should be.
Laughter fills the night air, our breath appearing in puffs above our heads,
we criss-cross down the street, swerving through the other pedestrians.
I breathe in the biting cold air, smile,
the windows are down, the music up,
Broadway may never be the same again.
Our adventure may not belong on the front page,
but I know that the night has left a mark on me,
beneath the surface.
Somewhere underneath the chilled pale skin,
and frozen blue lips.
He tells me I should have borrowed his coat,
and instead of laughing at my frozen form,
the black fabric that was once his
becomes my blanket,
as we drive home
with 90s music filling the truck cab.
---

Random Collection of Poems

2008-11-07T08:19:00.000-08:00

When we kiss, mhmm, FIRE
I
You tackled me into the snow, your laughter echoing in the air.
Winter break was never so fun and so painful at the same time.
I groan, sure that my white skin is now blue as sparks of pain shoot through me.
You panic and apologize,
asking if I can stand.
I do stand, on unsteady legs, your arm around me,
helping to keep me vertical.
As we walk to the house I forgive you,
my eyes locked on your ice blue ones,
snowflakes sticking to your lashes.
II
You try to be smooth, saying we should find out if there’s something between us
but I can see that you’re nervous, you’re playing with your necklace.
We kiss and you catch fire.
We kiss and I fall into a safe zone, slightly dizzy but not yet on fire.
III
The night you set me on fire was not how either of us imagined.
Not a flame of love or trust but of loss and anguish.
You abandoned me, taking flight from fifty feet above the water.
Your wings failing as you fall.
You think you’re falling alone but what you don’t know is that I’m tied to you,
drowning beneath the waves; pushed out to sea, the fire is not put out…
it’s consuming me.
The smoke and heat knock me out, making my head spin, and my skin blacken.
All because you felt your fire needed to die out.
IV
You may have put your fire out but you set the life you left behind aflame,
the sparks of your life blowing up and setting a blaze.
The truth is you started burning me the day you tackled me,
two days after Christmas, 2000.

---
Teardrops on my Guitar
Guitar chords infect my brain, distracting me from my work.
I remember how you looked as you played, your eyes closed, voices soft,
and the sounds that float in the air are the treatment you need to get through the night.
Now it heals me too,
not by calming my racing heart but by speeding it up,
by making me cry, something I need to do but can’t;
all because I keep thinking you wouldn’t want me to cry over this,
over you.

Poems for the one who has gone missing

2008-10-06T18:58:00.000-07:00

Memories flash like scenes from a movie,
the film is old and grainy.
And yet I still press rewind then play
because I'm desperate.
Desperate to see a smile on our face
because I need to remind myself that you were happy once.
Do you even remember how to smile?
How to laugh?
How to live?
I don't think you do and the truth is,
neither do I.
I've become lost in the past,
the film only nineteen years long.
I've been stuck on chapters eleven through eighteen,
because those are the times when you smiled.
I confess,
I've become obsessed with remembering your smile
because i hate how the tears turned your blue ice eyes
(that I fell in love with)
bright red.
---
How ironic, November eleventh.
The day you disappeared.
It's the day of remembrance.
It says it right there, on my calender.
Did you do that on purpose?
So we'd remember?
Well just so you know,
you're not someone I'd ever forget.
Even before you became lost you were unforgettable.
Even before you shattered my world.
---
I had so many chances and reasons to hate you
and leave you and forget our friendship.
But I never did.
So instead, for fear that me
(and everyone else you cared for)
would leave,
You left first.

Out of Control

2008-09-19T20:31:00.001-07:00

Out of Control
The fight started with a few sharp words,
things you should never say with a lady present.
Then it became a shove, a push, a middle finger flashed, a threat made.
A punch, a curse.
Two bodies rolling on the ground,
fists flying, bones cracking.
And, the classic cliché, it starts to rain.
They’re not on the front lawn anymore,
now they’re in the street.
One boy grabs the other’s head, pushes with all his force,
the opponent is knocked out on the pavement.
I sit in my living room, across the street,
eyes on the immobile body lying in the street.
And to think this all started over the girl who now stands with the victor.
Too bad neither of them realizes that she’s dating half the town.
----

Music=Survival
All these songs mean endless possibilities.
They twist my stomach and clench my heart,
the stories they tell, of lovers scorned, friends gone,
growing up, joy, your home, suicide, and hope.
Each story makes me breathe a little deeper, makes me think a little clearer.
Without the notes and the words that go in so deep
I don’t think I’d be who I am, because without music,
Without the stories,
there’s really no inspiration, no purpose, no guarantees.
----

Alternate Plans
I spend my summer lying here, thinking of a million things I could be doing.
Instead of watching the alternate world of Soul Calibur play out before my eyes
and getting dizzy every time you duck and shoot
(because I hate that first person point of view camera angle.)
I close my eyes and think of the beach,
the hammock in my aunt’s backyard,
the library, and the stables up in the mountains.
I could be anywhere else, doing things of interest,
but instead I remain here, on your forest green sheets,
gunshots echoing out of the speakers.

I need an excuse to leave,
because anyone can see my lack of interest in the video game.
But then, when the mission is over and the auto play video starts
you turn to look at me.
I catch your eye and you smile.
You drop the controller on the couch
and walk over to the bed where I rest.
You place your hand on my back
and I crane my neck to look at you.
You smile again and I return it.
“Almost done,” you promise.
I nod, you kiss the top of my head, the video ends,
and you jump over the back of the couch and grab the controller.
Then it hits me, I don’t want alternate plans,
because as much fun as they may be,
they don’t include you.

Out of Control

2008-09-19T20:31:00.000-07:00

2008-06-17T16:49:00.000-07:00

So I've started this new writing project where I find images that inspire me and write about them. It's a nice way to get my mind going. I will always post the pictures here along with what I write.

001.

I watched them as they walked towards each other, her hips swinging, his head down. I was sure they would just pass by each other, without a second glance. Instead they embraced and stood together, arms around one another. They were such an odd pair-- A tanned Latina beauty with long, flowing black hair and a punk skater with Vans and pale skin. And yet I loved how perfectly wrong they were for each other so I took this picture and tucked it away after it had been developed.

It was a constant reminder that you can find love anywhere with anyone, the kind of reminder I needed.

------

More for later.

Poems for the College Crew

2008-06-02T18:33:00.000-07:00

2,424
I sit on my bed that is too low, like a child's,
she types on the computer, her back to me.
(We're comfortable like this.)
They sit in another room across the hall,
(studying one last time.)
Tomorrow is the last chance.
After that there's one hundred and one days between us,
2,424 hours until we're back here,
in our comfortable silences and memory filled rooms.
Until then, my dears.
<3
--
Buda
Nights spent somewhere between hate and joy,
curled up on the pile of blankets in the center of the room.
We talk of dyes and bands, hippies andboys
and somewhere in between we came to understand
that nights on each other's floors and fake tattoos
are never really temporary.
--
Em's Puzzle Pieces
550 puzzle pieces and one movie later,
we're closer than before.
While we put the shapes together
bits of our lives went with them
as we somehow managed to talk about
everything and nothing all at once.
You're the only person I'll ever do a puzzle
that has over 200 pieces with.
--
Roomate
"You would kill for this, just a little bit!"
are the first lyrics you ever sang in front of me.
Now our nights are spent with amazing guitar solos and food facts.
Just so you know:
I wouldn't have it any other way.
--
Moe
John Deere blankets were never things of comfort
until I met you the day I locked myself out.
Four hours later Iv'e found an amazing person
who had lived just across the hall the entire time.
--
Multiple Choice
8 AM classes will always suck,
there's no way around it.
But there's no one else I'd rather panic with
until 2Am
over a test we have to take in six hours.
--
Dancer
You scream at my appearence,
causing a fit of laughter to shake our bodies.
I know it's because you were shocked to see me.
Even after that we still blow kisses
and smile at one another.
I don't know about you,
I'm just glad to have one ore person to make coming back worth it.
--
Unlocked Doors
No matter how many times you yell, scream, laugh and run into the room
I want you to know that I'll always let you in
and miss you when you're gone.
--
U Conn Bound
Fuck you, U Conn.
You don't know that you've stolen away
the first wrestling fan I found at this school
And you definately don't know
how luck you are to have her.

Falling_Story #1

2008-05-28T19:41:00.000-07:00

Falling Story #1
Can you blame a girl for falling?
“All is fair in true love and gym class,” she claims as she runs out onto the muddy,
rain soaked soccer field.
Her friends laugh at her excitement,
“It’s only gym!” they shout but it falls on deaf ears.

The teams are made, the whistle blown,
the game begins.
With seven kids on each team
they are still uneven.
The rest stand around, uncaring
while the game becomes
two boys vs. one girl,
she’s getting frustrated.
He’s got the ball,
she runs and slides,
taking him down with her.
The ball bounces away, they just laugh
covered in mud and suddenly
very interested in each other.

Can you blame a girl for falling
for the guy she made fall for her first?

(written for the livejournal community falling_stories
http://community.livejournal.com/falling_stories/ )

Seven & Seventeen

2008-05-26T14:14:00.000-07:00

Seven
Waking up early on a Saturday morning wasn’t weird
because I wanted to beat my brother to the chair in front of the TV.
Eating Cocoa Puffs drowned in milk while watching Road Runner escape the Coyote.
You walked in and stole me from my chair
careful not to spill my now chocolaty milk.
I giggle and stare at the silver ring on your lip.
Tickling me always gets a scream and a squirm, and I fight back,
failing to push you away.
I always hated you for being so much bigger than me.
Stupid seventeen year olds.
Hours pass with me curled on your lap,
Bugs Bunny now the only thing we’re looking at.
You told me I’d grow up to be like you
“…with lip rings like me and dyed hair…”
I laugh at how silly that seems.
“See you later baby doll.”
I waved my goodbye, too caught up in the TV to say it.

Seventeen
Who told me the monsters were gone and sang me to sleep?
The boy who slipped away too soon
sterling attached to his chapped lips.
The last thing you said to me was “baby doll”
and I miss the sound of it.
I wish I’d said goodbye but I was laughing as Daffy Duck declared Duck Season.
Stupid seven year olds.
Ten years are almost gone but he can’t see me now.
Wish he could see me
growing up to be like him.

Intro to my current project

2008-05-23T23:05:00.000-07:00

Hey everyone, this is the opener to my current project which I've been calling "Alexandra Lynn's Boys" although the title is subject to change (mostly because I feel I can never title things.)

Let me know what you think!

--

I was the only virgin left. It was crazy how much attention that got. Because I was a virgin no one could understand why men stayed in relationships with me. Each guy was different in terms of how I kept them around. Some stayed on their own, hoping that with enough wining and dining I’d give in but others wanted more physical contact. But in the end the ultimate refusal of sex is why they all left me.

Truth be told though, I didn’t need those guys. I had four best friends who took care of me in every way. They took me to dinner, watched chick-flicks with me, bought me flowers, etc. However these weren’t the run of the mill supportive girls you could expect a young girl to have. They weren’t girls, they were men.

Everyone suspected that I had dated them at one point. These guys were in my heart and I knew that it was too dangerous to date them. If I dated them I’d surely lose it all just for them, giving in far too easily because I could trust them. I did give in a few times to short dates and in one case, a steady relationship but got out before things got too intense.

No one understood why I refused to have sex. There were two reasons; I hadn’t fallen in love yet and I was far too self conscious of my body to share it.

You’re probably wondering, like everyone else, that if I found four perfect guys who I could trust and who were in my heart, why couldn’t I date them? The reason is exactly that. I cared for them and I could trust them, even with my body. They’d all seen my body, broken and bruised and instead of taking advantage they held me and comforted me. They’ve saved me from a lifetime of nightmares and even death on a few occasions.

If you’re interested in hearing more then keep reading, if not … fuck you.

--

Comments? Criticisms? Opinions? All very appreciated.

Welcome Post

2008-05-23T21:13:00.000-07:00

Welcome to my blog. This is all about my writing and I will post everything from poetry and prose to song lyrics and maybe a fan fiction. The "About" section can be explained like this.

About: "It may be schizophrenia and prostitution(with the occasional ransom note) but it's better then wrestling alligators"

This idea was taken from these quotes:

“Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia.”-E.L. Doctorow
“Writing is like prostitution. First you do it for love, and then for a few close friends, and then for money.”-Moliere
“I have always believed that writing advertisements is the second most profitable form of writing. The first, of course, is ransom notes...”-Phillip Dusenberry
“Writing is the hardest way of earning a living, with the possible exception of wrestling alligators.”-Olin Miller

---

So read what I write, comment & criticize if you wish, I'd just like to use this as a way to put my writing out there and for a way to gain feedback.

See you between the lines...

-xFireSpritex-