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.

journal seventeen

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the night had been colder than most. walking home from work i enjoyed the most. the snow covered lightly upon the sidewalks on top of cars on the tips of trees the roofs. i pulled out a cigarette from my pocket. tried to light it with gloved hands. i stopped by a small out house that had a stench so thick it made me choke on the dead air particles. i lit and walked on. the horizon lights were beautiful tonight the colors blended well the bokeh caused reminded me that of a camera. my cheeks stained themselves rose i could see my breathe in the air when i blew like smoke from a chimney rusty color the charcoal feel to the stones on the inner lids. i sat down for while blowing into the palms of my gloved hands the scarf around my neck froze with touches of the tense feel from the air. this is where me and papa used to come to. until he died. he had an accident with another car. mama walked out on me she never cared about me to begin with. papa he cared he always hugged me kissed me goodnight good morning. he always knew how to make me feel better with one word. i miss him i only wish god would not have taken him away from me. sometimes i flick god off just so he knows how i feel about his fucked up bullshit game. i live with a foster care family. they are nice people i ran away tonight im getting out of this town it has to much i can not will not hold onto any longer. my cheeks burned from the cold my bag sat along the stone wall i had laid myself upon. papa always told me he wanted to see me graduate i promised him i would but i lost hope i don't belong here papa would have been disappointed. i had been under construction with my emotions. the snow began to fall slowly dancing its way onto its bed. i blew into the air. making puff balls i used to tell papa i was a dragon i had fire breathe when i grew older i said i was a smoker he would always correct me as that was wrong. i used to be held onto when the winter carnival was here for a two days before leaving i would ride the ferris wheel. then there it was i heard the music all over again the moments the creaks taps squeaks. i wanted to smile again. i sat there in the silence i could hear the wind making brush noises on the winter wool jacket i had on. my long hair had got caught in the winds playfulness. i cried when i lit the cigarette making me drop it. i yelled i kicked i cursed i asked god why me why does this bullshit happen to me. our hearts are made in glass cages it makes us vulnerable to harm we might act like we are all strong we all lie. i would imagine its all bullshit. the reason i cry is because i am loosing this battle. i lost. i want to forget. i burned the notes i had made all four hundred and fifty seven of them their ashes i let roam free for all to see. they were what made me un-pure what made me feel the guilt i did i let them go. i should have said to him what i wanted him to remember the reason he had the accident was my fault. all of it was. if i had only been there we could have died together. instead i was smoking in the back alley we had. if only i had told him how much i loved him. i went to his grave a few days ago to tell him how much i loved him. thinking back on these i went the other way back to town before hand i took the cigarette packs out of my bag threw them down the bridges water fall into the river. waved goodbye walked. papa im going to change for you. im sorry.