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Thursday, April 17, 2014

metaphors of annihilation




Fill my lungs. Take my life little by little. Be my escape. 
I am all yours and I don't care anymore. 

Tell me if you feel ashamed by your ashes.

The clock and the windows watch you and that is your worst nightmare.  

You took the wings off of butterflies and I cried because I thought you were beautiful. 
But really, I just didn't know what beautiful meant. 

The color of my blood changed.
And the only thing that scared me was that I could see it. 

I know you care. The way you cling to your last breath. I know you care. 

This ritual of dances and car drives that we do, doesn't make the smoke go away. It only keeps it behind us, and I can't stop loving you.

Strawberry slices wont fix me, but maybe if you try hard enough, they will fix you.
Sweet things used to fix you. Sweet things used to give you smiles and stained clothes. 

I wait for the ripples, but I am waiting for them in dead water. 
This is my worst nightmare.

We are my worst nightmare.

-S.B.




Things that made me love you.

I thought that it might be the color of your shoes.
I thought that it may have been the way you walked over the flowers.
I thought that it may have been the way your hair was.
The things that made me love you.

Your hair moved to the beat of the music, it was the only thing I or anyone else noticed.
You skin was pure except for the dry patches on your hands. (the only thing I recognized that day.)
You were laughter.
The things that made me love you.

I like the shape your lips make when you're happy.
I like your stories, because I don't know what you're talking about. 
Maybe it's the smell of firewood, but you remind me of summer. 
The things that made me love you.

Keep whispering to me in the dark because it makes the dark go away.
Tap your fingers against my knees because it reminds me to be human. 
We're on the border line of insanity and discovery. 
The things that made me love you.

-S.B.


Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Mix Tapes.

One day I am going to forget the way that your skin smells and you're going to forget the way that my hair looks when its down.

Maybe I'm hypnotized. (I think I am)

Or maybe you are. 

Maybe Hypnotists and magicians aren't real. (I hope they are)

Maybe there is such a thing as too much love... But lets not think about that because I like they way that love feels. 

I'm scared to know what the color of being helpless looks like. 

Would you make me a mix tape? If you want to know what love is, It's a mix tape. 

Did you know that when we are together, I forget everything else that we do that day because the only thing that mattered was that we were with each other? Silly. 

It's probably a good thing or probably a really bad thing that nobody knows how to say goodbye anymore. 

I'm pretty sure my soul is on fire and I have lost all hope of getting it under control. I guess I do Know what the color of hopeless is. 

I have to keep my thoughts to myself because there is no way that you will understand them. I don't like how easily secrets get spread. 

July will come and I'll still be here. My Hands will Wait for yours. But please don't let me hold you back. You'll have to remind me because I'm selfish, remember? 

-S.B.







Saturday, April 5, 2014

Secrets are for the lost soul.

The smoke billows in my face and I can't see.
Its's not actually smoke, you know? It's a metaphor, there is a deeper meaning.
There is always a deeper meaning.


I grind my teeth together in frustration because I like the way the tension feels, and I like looking right into her eyes because I like the way the tension Feels. 



Someday, oh someday we will start our lives and I will have to watch your life in pictures because we won't talk anymore. I already know that we won't talk anymore.



You know how you go to the city so that you can feel like you are apart of something different? 
You and her and them, they are my city. 


Something about the way that you move reminds me of songs that I listened to last summer. A friendly reminder of the past, a nightmare of the past. 



I feel bad when I pick flowers because I just ruined a beautiful little life just so I could put it behind my ear and in my hair. Decorating myself. That's selfish but I always do it. I pull and tear at its petals like its nothing. Why is destruction so easy?



I like the way blankets feel against my bare skin. 



Have you ever been told that you have cute freckles? Because you have the cutest freckles in the world and your freckles make me jealous. 


I like the way houses look when they have a lot a knickknacks. When you look around the room, its like you're reading a child's book and there is something about children books that bring you home.


My heart hurt they day I saw the cuts under your sleeve. I'm so sorry. 



Sometimes, I just want to wonder. 


-S.B.