no survivors.

We’re enslaved to the things we can’t control, that’s life. Our faults are the things we can change, and don’t. We go through life with such slow precaution in fear of losing what we have, despite not knowing what it is. Life takes prisoners but leaves no survivors so don’t settle for a life, confined within your worries. Don’t sacrifice control of your future for security in right now.

a sure thing.

I wish I craved people. Their time, their attention, their company. I wish I heard talking in the lunchroom and didn’t turn around. I wish I could hold eye contact with the cashier without looking away or talk to my neighbor about the late mail. I wish I could run to my crush and kiss him for hours. No hesitation, no regrets, no fear of rejection.

I wish friendships were natural and love was just life. I wish our stories stitched together and I didn’t crave silence. For, I have so many things I want to say so I rehearse them in my mind, but the things I want to say may never make it to you because life has a funny habit of not following the script. So I’ll live as a wallflower, with my emotions beside me and fear on my back. I’ll risk missing a good thing for a sure thing, until one day I’m sure of myself.

future without flaw.

Screen shot 2014-08-17 at 10.41.41 PMI’m everything you want, even everything you need. We fit into each others lives, into each others arm’s, into the empty space of our bed’s. How can you not want something, so fairytale meant to be? How can you not want you guys are perfect, smiles? How can you not want me?

I’m not the girl you fall in love with. I’m not the girl who gets flowers to her door. We’re not perfection, but I can promise we’re worth the fight. I can promise a future of certainty, not searching, because to me, we make so much sense. It’s a shame love doesn’t.

the second time around.

It’ll be amazing. You’ll talk about the past. The love loss, the love found. You’ll laugh about the times you stayed out past curfew and the times you outran the cops. You’ll recognize the words that made you weak and the smile that was instant comfort. The doodles left in your yearbook and the pictures you couldn’t delete. You’ll remember the first date, first kiss, first fight.

You’ll remember the last date, last kiss, last fight. The fight you couldn’t overcome. The words you just couldn’t forgive. The happily ever after, you couldn’t wait to escape. You’ll remember why it didn’t work and with that you’ll understand why it never will. You’ll convince yourself you can love them again and again, but one day you’ll learn, love is never the same love, the second time around.

who to resent and who to admire.

When someone apologizes for the way they look, the things they say, it means there’s someone in their life, that taught them to be sorry for who they are. Someone taught them to make excuses for their flaws, to justify their presence.

Perhaps that’s why we confuse cocky with confident. We’re torn between who to resent and who to admire. We’re blinded by whose standing tall and whose being held up. For, even the prom queen knows what it’s like to wake up alone. The highest A-lister has felt lonely in a crowd. The most glamorous person has looked at their reflection through tears.

We compare ourselves to those exactly like us. We all have our niche. Our sense of high; giving us happiness in the darkest times as everyone’s goal is to simply survive tomorrow as they did today. Everyone has the right to live without apology and as a result, they will live without regret.

silence means forgotten.

It’ll be a simple, straight forward text, what’s up?

My thumb will hover over letters on the keyboard, aching to tell you about my insecurities, my deepest fears. I’ll backspace the lines I wrote, flustered about the things that kept me up at night. I wish I could respond, filling your phone with my failed childhood dreams and my too ambitious goals. I wish I could tell you about the music I play on repeat, the poetry I recite in my mind, the things that make me cry, every time I watch the news.

Instead, our conversations are full of empty words.There’s beauty in silence I wish we could find, but for now, silence means forgotten so I’ll wait for your texts. My stomach will toss and will turn. I’ll take a deep breath and respond, not much, you?

we wait for the letters.

Screen shot 2014-08-14 at 2.07.17 AMDon’t fall in love. You’ll analyze every word they say and the speed in which they text. You’ll stay up late wondering where they are and you’ll go to sleep crying, the night’s they’re not by your side. You’ll let your stomach knot, when you feel them drift away and you’ll let your idea of love, stand in your way of loving.

For the definition of love has mislead us to think, if it’s not dancing in the rain, it’s not love at all. So we wait for the letters, and the Cinderella  proposals. We wait, and we wait, and we cry.

So, don’t fall in love with the wrong person, for the right one will never make you wait. Never make you wonder. Life isn’t about someone, it’s about the right one. It’s about silence that feels right, and love that feels easy. It’s about nights alone, knowing they’ll be back and once they’re back, it’s knowing they’ll stay.

the distorted reality.

Screen shot 2014-08-17 at 9.45.07 PMCrazy is hiding behind fluent sarcasm. It’s the distorted reality you lose yourself in, the dilated pupils you look through, the humor you use to dismiss the things that matter most. Crazy is your confidence that you can spend your life fighting the way things are meant to be, the way they’re meant to happen. It’s looking at life with eyes that say run. It’s beauty in ways you can’t understand. You’re running in circles wondering why the view is the same. You’re living your life with simple hopes to get by. You’re cursed with a brilliant mind you live to resent.

the taste of confidence.

Alcohol is a fire burning inside you. It’s blurry vision with sentences of words, all melted into one. It dances on your tongue with the taste of confidence. Stories walk the line of honest exaggeration and fear of rejection is replaced with morning after regret. It’s a spilt vessel of poison, an illegible message in the bottle, a plea for acceptance, hidden beneath confessions of love and blistered dancing feet.

Alcohol brings out the worst. The emotions, the authenticity, the anger. And when you wake up with a pounding head and queasy stomach, you put on a poker face ’cause you just showed all your cards. You showed people who you really are. The vulnerable, misguided person you’ve spent years building a wall around. You’ve created an image for onlookers, but alcohol will break down the wall and reveal your true self.

something about the night.

Screen shot 2014-08-17 at 9.52.41 PMI don’t know what you were to me. I don’t know why the alcohol inside me wanted to lay beside you. My restless three a.m’s thought of you. It was something about the night, the forbidden hours, the dark sky.

You confused my actions, the obvious hints of loneliness for desperation. You felt the power. The ability to manipulate me. Now I know you were essential for my greater plan. Pushing me closer to my lessons learned, to the strength I always needed, to the past that stabilized my once unsteady steps. You will always be the one to leave the bed unmade only now; I’ve learned to make a fort from the sheets.