The path unto this heart is lit up with corpses.

My dreams are getting stranger and the moon is making people weird, but somethings remain clear to me. I am so sorry that it stings. But, I'd rather it sting than scar and that's worth so much more than you even realize. It's alright to just accept your surroundings and learn to be happy with them, but there's only so much waiting left before everything changes and I become enlightened. My future husband is in the hands of someone who's prettier than me. I won't get married. Something is always wrong. I'm afraid. I'm too afraid that I'll never obtain my Chicago or my sweetest downfall ever again. What I don't understand is how boggled our minds get with such petty, unimportant things but we seem to misplace the stuff that matters. Our hearts become heavy and our feelings get hurt. There isn't always an explanation or reason as to why people treat others the way they do. Humans don't respect each other. And as we've evolved, we've spun so far out of control that such inhumane things occur in our society on a regular basis, that not much shocks anybody anymore. And although there are words to soothe the mind, thoughts to ease the pain, melodies to keep the wandering echoes of the mind at bay, sometimes it just isn't enough. Sometimes it will never be enough. We don't strive to be better to other people. We strive to make ourselves happy. Happy is and never will be always attainable. It comes and goes like the weather. Our constant changing should match our judgement of others, but it doesn't. Sometimes there are people who will never stop hurting you,, never stop letting you down, never stop making you unpleasant, and yet you never stop loving them. This is such a scary thought. Who wants to never stop loving someone who mentally scarred you? One or two or three is enough. That's when you stop. Stop falling in love. Stop searching for friendship beyond the casualties. Stop looking for someone to hold you and tell you that everything is going to be alright, when you both know it isn't. Your insecurities add up. That's okay. One day there will be someone patient and kind enough to wait on you and break down your walls no matter what happens. But then again, its only a matter of time before they start doing the same. Maybe humans weren't meant to be monogamous. Its only a matter of time before you stop questioning everyone else's sanity, and you start questioning your own. Sure fun is great. But don't let it keep you stuck in the same spot. There is so much beauty beyond the world and some people just ignore it and live their whole lives with no desire to see it. How can someone just live in the same spot their whole life and not even pursue a career? It gets old when someone decides to judge you based on things they don't even know about you, when their own lives are by no means any better. It gets old crying to yourself simply because you're lonely. You'd rather be lonely than let down again. Reflect. Stop worrying about so much dumb shit that you completely forget about something that means a lot to you. One step at a time. One step at a time... But it hurts. I put so much time and effort into something I love only to be let down and hurt. I'm awake and feel the ache. Its like a big hole in my chest. How could you do that to me? Take the one thing I have left away from me? I don't have an ear to listen to me. They say they will be they don't. People can't stand me and I don't even know why. Then they pretend like they don't know what I'm talking about. It's your fault. You did this and you did it on purpose. Happy now? You win. I'm so close to the edge but I'm holding back with all my might. I am going to snap if something doesn't change. I try so hard to fit the mold and try so hard to break it at the same time. I need to get out of here. I need to run away. My void is empty because I choose it but sometimes it unbearable. And we go through this with our heads high and our shoulders wide but we keep our secrets inside us. We keep them in and never say a word. All we want is someone to share our pain. Why does it have to be this way. Why do people have to leave us and hurt us and expect us to pick up the pieces all by our selves? I am still waiting for a letter to a former lover. I still want to scratch all the paint off my walls to find it. I am still waiting for the ghosts to come back just to tell me how beautiful I am on the inside and that they're sorry they had to leave and that they'll be back soon. The time machine, the rewind button, I am still holding off on that, wishing as hard as I can as if my life is a movie and people can reverse time or switch bodies. This heart is heavy. Its a lot heavier than you'd imagine. Nobody takes that into consideration. The ringing in my ears reminds me of the girl who never cared. My burning stomach reminds me of the boy who never listened. My beating heart hurts for the boy who gave up. My fuzzy brain remembers the one who I'll never stop wishing for. My hands long for the touch of the boy who didn't keep his promise. I'm trying. We're all trying. The maze is confusing us and tricking us and consistently reminding us of our parodies and falsities. My birds hold up my motto and will forever keep reminding me of how absolutely strong I am and who I am. It gets lonely. It gets sad. But its just another day. Just another sad night filled with quandaries and fairytale dreams and wishes. It will pass as always. But somewhere albeit in this universe or not, there is someone who's heart matches mine. And as for tonight, I will remorse their efforts. I shall long for those summer nights of 2008 with the stars, my father, the love, and the ghosts. I have not been as content since. The movies I can watch, the songs I can hear, but its never the same. Nothing ever is.

I hate you. It makes me laugh. I'm struggling internally. I'm trying to put two feet forward with a grin on my face. The problem is all these sentences begin with "I." There are monumental icons on this planet that our minds cannot even fathom. You think life is so bad? Really. Look where you are for juuuust a minute. I'm working for a goal. I want to see Chile's cave's and an aurora. I want to so scuba diving and see the depths of the ocean life; skydiving and see the world from up above. The meadows, the forests, the deserts, the storms. I want to see and feel it all. Maybe after THAT you can say your life is awful. Except you won't. That's the real tragedy of the American hero. If your life is bad, then get off your ass and make it good. Everyone is so sick and tired of hearing you complain. I understand that now. And I'm sorry. And I forgive you. I think all of you are infinitely more enlightened than you realize; either that or you're all the polar opposite. Let's all agree to do great things with ourselves. We've all already wasted so much time. Let's start out simple. We shall begin with ceasing to eliminate the positive in our lives. Something is positive, you push it out because it's interfering in your comfort zone. We must accept our faults, apologize, and do nice things for other people to make up for them. Everyday is a new day. A new chance to STOP SULKING and appreciate the greater things around you. And yeah, I hate you. But I will get over it in time. I wish I never met you to be honest. You've been nothing but selfish even when I forgave you for it (without an apology.) And you keep going. You are a sell out, but you couldn't even do that well. I might be vain and shallow at times, but at least I have a realty check. I am so sick and tired of all these boys claiming to be men failing to even try to realize who THEY are before they try to figure out me. YOU WILL NEVER FIGURE ME OUT. That's the real tragedy. That's the reason you all go crazy. But that's okay, I keep myself close. If I let anybody get in, they take my personal shit and they use it against me. So even though you think you figured it out or think you got in close, you didn't. I am the same dismantled red head. Essentially. The difference is I grew up. I started caring for other people. Even still, I miss that girl. She got close. She figured it out. Things come and go. You reap what you sow.

You were fake, I was great, nothing personal.

That feeling when you get hit in the stomach and you can't breathe... you can't think... you just feel pain. That's what this is. You're all the same. "I can post this because I know you won't read it." See? Same. Why do we question who we are. We're fake. We have fake nails, fake hair, fake tan, fake smile, fake eyebrows, fake eye colors, fake paints for our face as if our eyelids are color by numbers. So, I lied. You did too. You screamed at god but knew he wasn't there to hear you. So let's pretend and play our little games and say "bye" as if it really meas anything to anyone anymore. Just like "love." As if we even know how to define that word to an extra-terrestrial. Can we please just get over ourselves for just a fucking minute? Every impulse sitting in my heart that keeps beating too fast because of the pills I'm supposed to take is awaiting for some form of appreciation. My life is a thankless and unrecognized job. Whose isn't. When you erase me, did you remember to meet me again? I believe that movies and songs can save your life. Maybe I'm just classified as an adrenaline junkie. Maybe I rely on apologizes too much. Did I really think you could have been a different person? The tips of her tattoos looked like yours and I missed you. missed you so much. You ruined my life but were my best friend. Who can really blame anybody else for their own issues. I guess the ever long question of whether or not we'll be okay burnt into my brain so thick that I'll never quit asking it. But then again, maybe its burnt just as thick into yours, too.

Life is pure. It's a lot of things, really. It's messy, wild, angry, mean, hurtful, and gruesome. But its also forgiving.We cannot learn unless we make errors. Sometimes life is calm. It's raw. It's learning from us as we learn from it. The universe has its own way of working things out. It make take important things away from you, but it gives you something in return. It is accepting. And even though, we find it difficult to do the same, ultimately, that is what needs to be done. Accept the loss and continue forth. It really is the simple things. The cereal in your bowl, sleeping in until 2 PM and feeling guilty about it. Staying up until 4 AM crying about nothing. Helping another creature who needs help. The way in which the universe works is not what everyone always wants, but it is what is best. Nobody knows better than the universe. And sometimes, you become a stranger. And sometimes all you need is yourself. Distance can lead to mental awakenings. And even with chakras closed tightly, we can all bridge into something more than we once were before. Yeah, we have tender spots. And some of us are angry, but we must learn to forgive and let go. Just like the universe teaches us. Everything is alright. We just have to remember that.

I am small.

I'm feel like I'm falling apart. But we all know you'd have to be whole to begin with in order to do that. And it's like, we're all filled with these cute little songs we play over and over in our head and the singer and song writer understand us, but that just makes us feel lonelier. We have these little accordances that keep us going, moving, never giving in. One day we will reach our breaking point. Then what? I want to know her name. The name of the girl who ruined you. And maybe my socks are aesthetically pleasing and maybe I ramble and maybe I'm the weird girl who jots down all her clever little lines in a stupid notebook filled with such pointless scribble. You exclaim how you want to run up and down her streets and you insinuate that her streets are me but why do you refuse it. You refuse it, neglect it and you take it for granted, and maybe I do too... I told myself my heart belongs to scenic skylines, but what its its no one's for the taking? We're far too young to be this hopeless. Far too young. Sitting in bed tripping to Spektor, crying to folding chair wishes that will never come true. And we knew they were never going to happen. But we clung to this sense of security. That security prevents us from everything now. That vile is still being thrown onto you without even realizing it. And everything is so painful now. joints, muscles, your heart... it aches without even knowing why. It's this dead body illusion. This drug infested rat hole. This memory statically clinging to every crevice corner and line within your brain attaching itself to every thought you can ever possibly conjure up in your sad pathetic lonely little brain. You have to chose between letting go and holding on for dear life and you do not want to do either. You're a child and yet you're far more damaged than anyone else around you. Broken. Letting fanciful ideas take place and fill a void that you keep trying to find words to explain. Warm me up, I am small. I have lost myself again. Does anybody wonder who I am? Does anybody want to share and indulge in this pain? When does it become numb again. The walls awaiting my fingernails, with a message underneath. My tear ducts are tired but my heart is wired. Nobody left me a letter in the catacombs. I've lost my spot. I'm flipping to find it again, but its gone. The pause button doesn't work and we know the rewind button doesn't either. I want to stop you from killing everyone. You killed yourself but in turn killed a little bit of all of us too. We wear our scarves just like a noose. And where is that point in your life that you realize that your selfish endeavors and lack of affection and attention subconsciously killed the girl you claim you love. Till the morning light, you are my sweetest downfall. I am human, just like you. If you want roses then buy a bouquet. Cortesia. it died. The literary devices mean not a goddamned thing to me. I'm tired. I'm angry. I'm sad. I'm lost. I'll write you a letter that will never reach your hands. Go ahead, close me out. All I want is someone to listen and share. And you know what? Maybe I am just as crazy as you all said I was. I don't care. The shallow breathing, I cry when I run. I never ran so fast as the day my father died. And I cried the whole fucking time. The painful air filled my lungs and stung like I had swallowed hornets. I regret myself. I regret the lack of effort and the too much effort and the emotional range of a two year old. I regret my inability to learn. I regret what my life has become. It's aesthetic and its pure and I'm not hiding anything. It's everything and nothing. I know myself. and that is all-

Remembering a laughter is the easy part. The hard part is knowing that you're okay living with yourself knowing what you've done. It's such a sad reality, really. Some people can be just so damn ignorant. My part is teaching myself when it's okay to let go and when it is okay to hold on. The burned bridges mean nothing to me now, but used to consume my every thought. What's sad is that not one of you even bother checking in. It's fine and it's dandy, but what if it wasn't and you were responsible? Could you live with that? You already live so comfortably with your shitty job and shitty girlfriend. I bet none of you wondered what the outcome could have been. I wish so badly that somethings could have ended up differently. Maybe if I were more quiet, or maybe if you had a bigger brain, or heart. Maybe if you meant it when you told me you were going to make me yours again and you were going to do it right. Maybe you're all just jealous that I'm going to be somebody and you're not. Maybe you're upset because you know you're wrong and you cannot bring yourself to admit it. Strange how quickly you can grow up. Even more strange how long some people take. And I'm so angry. The world makes me mad because I don't understand anything that goes on around me. And that makes me sad. Then I'm over emotional. I just want my choices to be my choices. Not anybody else's. I want more control over my life. I want to fall asleep on the softest carpet and wake up and know where I am. I can't explain how weird that was. The swooning head over heels fascination killed me and forever will. It's somewhere between Scenic and Skyline where my heart belongs. It's the calm non chaotic, non confusing bliss that doesn't hurt. It doesn't speed, doesn't stab, doesn't get to the roots. I want sense. I want to get out of here. I don't want to remember the people who have made me strong. I want to get hitched in Cali and produce gorgeous babies. Not remembering the boy who took advantage of me. Or the friend who ditched me. Not of the boy who hit me when I was down, or of the girl who played on my trauma. But, first I'm going to kick some ass and see the world. Visit some wonderful people. Find my roots. Don't tell me "you'll grow up." You work at a glue factory. I'm not going to die here, this young, right now. Nah, I'm going places. And I have no problem leaving all of this behind.

what.the.fuck.

Okay so, wtf ever happened to "to be continued?" I am so tired of literally nobody taking it upon themselves to figure the mystery out. I hate it. I hate you and your silly games. I'm sick of someone seeing me as just a toy. If you don't want anything to do with me THEN LEAVE ME ALONE. I'm tired of giving in, and I'm tired of people giving up. Everyone has their own little heads warped around some lovey dovey lie they tell themselves to keep their hearts at bay. We're all just a bunch of pathetic losers pretending to be something we're not. And what are we, exactly? I am fed up. I'm fed up with you and having to tip toe around the things you say. I'm fed up with trying to convince myself that everything is going to turn out for the better: ITS NOT. I am fed up with myself. For allowing myself to trust people; giving in to them way too easily. I am fed up always needing comfort. I am even more upset that I can't seem to find it. Your roots dig towards the pits of Hell while your branches stretch towards the Heavens. I'm losing my faith in human kindness. In friendship. In love. Its all a bunch of lies. Its the shit they feed you in Elementary school to give you something to look forward to. I'm tired of looking for reasons. Of trying to be optimistic. I shouldn't have to try. I'm so sick of everybody.