What's Left For Me To Do

My shelves are a mess. I set things up in "their place" to make it look good. I spent so much time, time I won't get back, trying to make things look presentable. Then I took a step back and it just looks horrible. Everything is in line and stacked up nicely. So close. Too close that if I were to take something out of it's place it could cause many other things to fall. So I don't touch it. All my things sit there untouched. Afraid of causing trouble. I refuse to mess with it.


Breathe in. Realize that all this time I was so stupid to think things had been better. To think that I had a chance of being happy with what little I had. To think that things wouldn't change, that they wouldn't go back to how they were. To become comfortable in my skin. My situation. So comfortable I became blind to the world around me. Too comfortable to remind myself that nothing ever stays how it should. Brainwashed into thinking that this could be it. This could be my refuge.


Breathe out. Take a step back. Watch the walls crack. Watch my whole world fall around my feet. Float around in nothingness with my heart so numb I forget it's beating. Then drown in the fiery water as it washes over me. A thousand knives all over my body.An anchor clenched in my grip. Too hot to cry. Too deep to breathe. No one there to save me as I go down more and more and more. I see the stars above me. I see the people walking. Going on with their lives. I see the moon get smaller and smaller as I sink. I know I should go up. I know I should let go of the anchor I'm holding. But to let go is harder than the fall.

"I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way.."

Dodged A Bullet

Have you ever decided to write something while listening to your IPod. MP3 player. Computer playlist. Anything. It starts off one way then, as the music changes, so does what ever you're writing. So if you have something serious to say and you have that mindset than I recommend you do not listen to music. It's disturbing how much your emotions can take over your intellectual priorities. If I wanted to write a strongly written letter to my ex explaining the obstacles I had to overcome since our separation the letter would probably end up with smudged ink and unsophisticated adjectives. All because I chose to listen to a Taylor Swift album. And now I've forgotten the point in this post. And I've suddenly become bored. Let me tell you something, it's almost nearly impossible to stay on topic while you're watching Adult Swim. And I heard 'grilled cheese' so now I'm hungry. I think I'll make one. And if you were wondering I did absolutely nothing today. I think I'm just counting down the days until I leave. Which will be good. Alright. There really isn't anything else to say. Just don't listen to music if you're trying to get work done. It will not help. It will just turn you into a hot mess. Or just a mess, if you're not hot. And you'll lose all track of time like I just did. Goodnight.


-Summer.

6/26/13 4:13 a.m.

Wherever You Are

Headaches. That knife point every time the clock's hands tick. And tick. And tick. My blue eyes turn to a bright green when I cry. It's a beautiful thing. A flower blooming in the after-math of a tornado. Knowing it went wrong, when it went wrong, that it was no one's fault but my own. Only, that's not true. I cared for it. Watered it. Fed it. Put it out in the bright sunshine. Gave it all my attention. All my care. All my love. Then, the storm of the century. Sitting at my dining room table. Listening to that deafening clock tick. And tick. And tick. Knowing what was on it's way. The clouds were forming. The sprinkles on the window. All it needed was a little push. Now everything I worked so hard for. Everything I wanted so badly. It's gone. But here it is. Blooming. Hope through all the heartache.