journal twentyfive

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two ten am is the moment i began to sleep with my eyes half open so i never missed a moment in time. i wanted to be sure i could see the glow in the dark stars i pasted on the ceiling. when i was ten i began buying stars these were not the most extravagant stars but they meant more to me than to anyone else. on the first star i began to write in small letters: hope is taking a ticket your number twelve thousand one hundred and twenty two. then the second star i wrote: my real father and mother never loved me thats why i ran away. then the third star would mention: i have a heavy weighed the kings and queens when their words were nothing but small choke holds in the kingdom. learn to let go. and so on. every night before i went to bed i wrote a new one then one day one of them fell onto the ground. it was star number one thirty seven on it was: the picture of my sister and brother and me. text written above them: we were our own family till our reigns fell. i looked back upon the others i had none others fell but this one this one wanted out. i think it was about that time they forgot about me. about us. the next day i picked up my pen to write before bed time and the worlds that became tacked on were: i forgot which way to home. i felt lost beyond explanation. the next night on star number three hundred and six i wrote: goodbye to all my wishes and hopes of dreams the history books forgot about us. then with that i took all the stars down all of them fell i spent hours on the floor crying to the stars i had written in a plastic bag they went pictures and all. into a box i burnt them all. the ashes i held were put into an empty jam jar i had written on the words: love's money the money i was going to use to buy my hearts home back. i set it upon my desk painted the ceiling with words the walls covered in pictures writings photos. i pour the bleach on the walls watch the the photos turn to a blur of colors. all of me. i wanted to erase my self. then repainted the walls all in one night. no one knew. then i waited for the windiest day to come by a storm. it was near. i ran to my room ran through the corn fields to the broken barns roof. opened the jar then my mouth spoke. 'now set us free' the jar tipped out of my dainty bone hands plummeted to the ground with a loud crash. the words are now gone no recollection no photos no secrets but much silence after the winds winds crashed the rain began i laid on the roof holding onto a balloon on it was spoken out: i will meet you half way but you have to be willing to go the part you promised. letting it go it flew off into the sky. as i sat there i waved goodbye. god never promised he would forgive me but he promised he would still protect me. i walked home alone that night. sitting upon my bed chills ran through the stomachs empty pits. something stung me deep for the bedsheets had been stained crimson bleach from the left leg's knee down to the foot of me. i laid there quietly not moving then a tear roamed freely fell upon my pillowcase decided it was tired and fell asleep.

journal twenty three

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my eyelids fall short from their slumber hearts weight become weary. hands lay silently still. my heart cannot take much more of this. my father he beat me. he beat me until i was a raw in color with red blotches dripping their way down like a river flows gently. stringed in pain one lays there. the pearless necklace rolled off under the bed. only a few minutes ago had i been dressed in mamas finest clothes makeup to the best of my ability. papa walked in to see me touching them. now im here wet with fear sticky crimson pure tears walked upon my dense skin. the sky looked blacker than normal it looked like a pit of a hole that once in you cannot find your way out where if you were to have spoken you would see and feel your words around your body sensing your moves with emotions. i don't think i can take this anymore i wanted to run away to juts hide for a while. im not having a very wonderful saints day.

journal twenty two

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you told me we could run away together. i waited for your call near the window as you had asked me too. you never came the mornings wind fallen crisp air of painted colors stacked neatly on the shelves of orange blue purple red pink. i had left the suitcases ready at the back end of the house. i waited purely to fascinate myself with thoughts of you until then i sat. it was not long until i heard footsteps near the door of my bedroom i jumped to the bed wrapping the inch of my body's cradled by the sheets the footsteps got closer to me. my mother had looked down upon my face of porcelain dotted with small freckles of delight. my eyes were shut tightly until she left. the books i had read with you lied around the beds edges. i waited but you never came. the night fall had come sooner than i would think but now. i am in search of a home of that with you. where did you go alone. i miss your being here. come home to me.

another cold dry rainy day. gotta love the weather seriously i do does anyone else love days like this its a lazy type of day the cars don't sound and you let life wither you away to nothing

journal twenty

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these lakes hold something of a memory. of lace beings with wings so delicate they glide on water. we had a small cabin up in the hilltops of the woods the air there is so crisp fogged to the point of extinction of ones sight. mama always made dinners on the small natural grill we made years ago. the entrance seemed dulled from what i recall. i had a small memory flash it was going to be the last i had of him for years. my brother he had lukemia. he was only ten i recall. on a day much like this one. we had just come home from the hospital a couple days before coming to the cabin for the weekend. mother and father kept us away from people who might bring harm to keep us pure we were brought up in cabins as a family thing. i can never say i got tired of it. one summer we had been coming into the cabin he had mentioned he was not feeling so good. papa thought it was his excuse not to help out we all laughed at him. hours later we noticed he had not come down for dinner even after told to. i went up to check on him he was on the floor ina puddle of blood coughed up onto the hard wood stained floors. i screamed in the horrendous way for i was feeling guilty for his death. i never relaly quite recovered now thinking back on it i still feel guilt i feel sadness grow in my cold tired eyes. walking past the kitchens stupid decorated stair case wall. the winds sweet caressing the house's body. the one person cemetery we had laid about with timmy's body underground. i wept for quite sometime. i placed a blanket above the ground over his grave i wanted him to know i still cared for him. i placed his bowl of oats out for him to get. the wind knocked it over on its side. i apologized to him. cut the winds hand. i kissed the ground gently told him he was going to be alright and i was going to be here.

journal nineteen

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it's cold this morning. he leaned in to give me a small kiss on the forehead. i don't know why the room got colder the bed felt un-welcoming his arms around me felt wrong his hot breathe on my neck was not the same as before it was frigid as if mere words could not say it already. he never loved me he used me over and over and over. the saddest part is i knew this and still kept coming back to him i cried on his bare shoulder's skin. it rained was raining i had mimicked the skies flow onto myself because it was what i needed to do. cleanse my body of him free my soul from him. he never loved me. he used me every fucking time. i never knew what it was like to truly fall in love with someone you knew never would love me back unless sex was involved. he kept touching pushing holding pressures build and i must break down. i won't let my heart down again. removing oneself is the first step. i gave up trying i needed to get up walk away go home. he would not let go. i tried to get him to let me go he slapped me asked me if i was being stupid he always loved me. i began to cry though the words i had let slip i told him i did not love him the room had car's light crossing a top our naked bodies against the wall the heat came from home which was not here. i had to leave this lonely place. the sheets that held us together were warm to the touch but cold to wrap oneself in. the scent left on them was unbearable. i pushed away harder this time. tried to be stronger this time. letting me go pushed onto the table i knocked over a lamp his radio our picture our trust is now gone. i clothed myself leaving through the back door i heard him come. i ran to the outskirts of his homes land even then i kept running through the high ways of the city. cars honked at me calling me names making fun. i had been so tired. i walked for three hours in cold with out a jacket. funny the place i found first was Bucharest the city i had found him in there was a corner we had first met i had spilled my coffee onto him he dripped so much in the store i apologized he said he never met a girl as adorable as me. i fell in love with him then and there we met everyday in the mornings. i frowned upon the thought but my heart was not frowning. i walked in to sit int he same old chair we used to sit. i touched the chairs smooth oaken brace the cushions were greener than i recall the place drenched in his scent. the same people walked by over over over the same frowns one hold when the weather is down. i had to leave this town he's been all over me this town this home of mine i have to leave. i had been so tired i wanted to sleep. looking around a box laid alone. sleep was meant well when a stranger had come back to pick at it. i slept near the trash cans covered in a sweater ripped jeans black ballet flats. i blew cold breathed airs onto the canvas sky. i never knew how it was like to be homeless. unloved for uncared for lonely without him i cried onto the black still bags. i begged to die. i cried myself to sleep. then a warm body laid next to mine i did not even bother to look back. i felt them wrap their arms around me push their head into my hair. he came back. he knew i was here how.why. i turned to look at his face he had tears streamed down those same blue eyes i fell in love with had tears streamed down cascading onto his lips as he spoke. i hushed him held him close as i could. you never know how to fall in love until you see one cry themselves into love. you never know what its like until you look at a boy who is oblivious to you until the day he remembered our place. our home was not there. it was here where we had first met. i felt loved. this place his scent this town watching us sleep still together. this is home. this is love. i'll love you as long as you remember. just don't forget...please

journal eighteen

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i am raw beauty in the essence. for i do not sleep i do not eat i only mimic what the world has asked of me. mother always had this air to her the kind you find around those of a queen when they walk their gardens out in the moonlit paths of morning lilies hung loosely from their veins of weeping willows tightened from their stringed roots. she was the one i called mother. she was what i saw as beauty. i am the one she bore when she was quiet young i had nothing of hers i had none of her faults she had many. i only wish to own them to say i knew her well but we never spoke to each other. only though photographs she is long gone now. as i live on the outskirts of my imagery in the lack of color the disbelief of time. tick tock tick tock the clocks are calling me out from my sleep. nightmares of faces i do not know women in gowns so delicately hung from their bodies of white color of pure color. sunken raccoon eyes awake me from my deep slumber as i am handed a small mirror. looking upon it i see no face just a weeping girl she looked quite like me. he eyes were black underneath her face round lips like rough rocks along shore lines of soft deep yellow sand blue eyes dulled down to that of a pair of worn down skies. i weeped for quite sometime dropping the mirror to fall like leaves do in the calm autumn springs i hear so much of but have never seen. tears lash down mirrors break with no sounds words come in bold letters on walls of gray. small trickles of crimson cascades down my palms as i push them onto my forehead with light smokeless breathes try to forget i moan hold your tongue let these pains be your punishment let the world fun of you. drops aside i hear them fall in such quite rooms as i lay on the cold washed down wood floors. i am not raw beauty. i am ugly straight down to my core. make me forget make us believe that we have something special about ourselves even though it is a figment of our imaginations a pigment of color regretful words that only coil onto our hearts that in these days are held together with glass seams that fall apart when touched upon. i can never be like mother even though in reality she was just as lifeless just as structureless. the difference is only that when spoken upon she reflected what she was given she hid no shame in others eyes. she deceived me. mother one day i will grow on your faults.