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from nic

2:24 am.

"doubtful perhaps your eyelids
are still open - i just read your
thing and yes - i was just thinking
about you the other day. i seem
to always try to talk to you late
like this. Besides the point, i'm
drunk as fuck and i go back to
work tomorrow. Peace and happy
belated birthday. i still haven't
forgot about the tree house."

tell your heart.

never allow yourself the chance to make a moment go too far.

and never think for one second that its the only moment you'll ever get to keep with you.

stop holding onto nothing and start letting go.

somewhere along the way someones going to get hurt.

anticipate heartache
and dont plan so far ahead.

love poem

(sometime in may)

i'm glad i never made the mistake of telling you that i love you.

i'm sorry i faked that our sex was good and made you think i liked it. i'm sorry i lied and said you didn't have a small {ween} and
i'm glad i never wrote you a real love poem.


failure is inevitable.

"i'm afraid of failure." he said.

as if that wasn't the first time
i heard half of a man tell me
their shells were afraid of being
imperfect. as if avoiding failure
was possible.

and i think in my head

"i'm glad my biggest fear
isn't my biggest accomplishment."

long division

my dreams are starting to overlap with my real life and i'm beginning to have a hard time separating the two. maybe its not even the fact that i can't tell one from the other - its the inconsistency that comes with waking up and realizing you're not really with me. dreams are good when you're feeling distant from someone. because it brings you back together as if somehow your dreams know that you're aching for someone.

so i sleep to dream you closer to me, even if its just for a few hours

time better spent.

you're always on my mind and i promise you right now - that i'll never be what you want me to be - i'll never give enough. i'll never let you in and i'll never love you. I've stopped telling my story - and trying to bring people closer by pushing them away. i've stopped being the victim. and i've stopped leaving myself open and vulnerable for hurt and heartache. i've become a vault of what i used to be. i've buried myself and i dont want to let you in. i wont.
i'm sorry.


every time i fall for someone new
i find myself saying the same thing -
please be right for me - please, i hope
this works out. and every time - it
ends the same way. and i've wasted
- yet again - my heart space on
meaningless connections.

keep your
dirty hearts away from me, boys.
i'm not looking for love.

i'm not looking for you.

holding on to all we have left.

(sometime in july 2007)

i hate to think that this may have been our only chance.
i hate to think.

and i hate that i can't write
any words
about our only hours


Cause I can dish it out, but I can’t take it.

Maybe it was the sound of your voice – or the telephone wires that made me miss you so much.
Or I suppose maybe it was the words you fed to me that had been resting on your tongue for far too long.
Or I guess it was just because I was alone again and loneliness is a disease I can’t cure by myself.
I’m in love with the mere fucking thought of being in love again.

Maybe it was really just that I love the way
Your words wrap
Around your lips

And somehow manage to wrap themselves around my ears as well, despite a distracted correspondence through shitty telephone lines.

I can’t keep you safe.

All this time I feel has been wasted into space. I’ve done nothing significant and nothing important. I hate that all I can think about is the way this is all going to end. I hate that I don’t really love you – that youre not my everything – and that I think this half relationship thing is bullshit. Im tired of fucking boys that don’t love me. Im tired of fucking. I have no more energy left in me to be your something special and im sorry, but please go away so I can stop daydreaming our last moments together.

Because my world has become so blank, it hurts.


just time, all by itself.

i want something from you that i dont think i've ever wanted out of a person before.
our situations are so fucked and messy, that it's hard to imagine us as any more than what we already are.

im such a fucked up person when it comes to any sort of relationship. which sucks to think that all i'm doing is playing everyone in my life.

[i wish the people who loved me knew me well enough not to.]

like luke warm angels

digging my nails into my skin is the closest i can get to that familiar sting on my flesh. the burn i've know for far too long and far too well. i was so young then - i see that now - but at my lowest of lows that comforting pain was easily my best and most loyal friend.

it's just that, sometimes we do things to remind ourselves of who we are.

i want to be reminded of who i was - but i dont want to be that person. so tearing at my skin and scratching at my surfaces is my grown up way of being vulnerable to my own body.

its hard to find someone who is as constant as that reassuring pain was.

thanks for teaching me how to feel, i'm not ashamed anymore.


motion sickness

i'm not sure if it's my medication
my lack of food
or the thought of you and her
that's making my stomach hurt so bad.
but it's an ache that i can't deny.
i think our hearts are mixed up.
you want what i can't give you
and i want what you'll never be able to give to me.

my brain and heart are having a panic attack and i can't seem to figure out how to make it the spinning stop.

i cant seem to figure out how to make this all go away.

i can't seem to figure you out.

this city's driving me out of my mind

I can't help but think that i'm making a big mistake by giving you my heart like this.
this whole situation is a mistake. and it hurts and all i can feel is this tension inside my stomach that's whispering: somewhere, along the way, i'm going to loose something.

God i fucking hope it doesnt have to be you.


where emotions belong

I hate my memory and everything i can't forget/remember. Seems like the further back I try to push a memory into my brain, the more it unexpectedly comes back to haunt my thoughts. And no matter how hard i try to remember the beautiful, the further back into my head i have to dig only to find blurry, shattered pieces of what was once so good. I cant remember a thing about the first time i knew i loved you. But I remember every vivid detail of the moment i decided i hated you. I'm bitter on the inside - mostly because i'm selfish.

i'm selfish because the only things i choose to remember - are the times you let me hurt.

the sun is not embarrassed to make me sweat

and the truth is - i'm aching for your hands on my skin. I feel this need for you burning inside of me. Please run your fingers across my body. This is how it should be. This is how it should always be. I hate that when i think of wanting you so badly, i am simultaneously reminded of how short these moments are going to last. I want to keep you deep inside of me and never set you free, because i dont want this feeling to ever go away.

Not Now. Not Tomorrow. Not Ever.

(please tell me you feel that way too.)


flesh eating

i'm moving in slow motion today.
my breathing seems harder than
usual and the sun is starting to
make me itch. I've got this pain
between my legs and in my heart.
and i've used up all my wishes on
hoping it would all disappear. i'm
so ashamed of how little i respect
myself and how much i want to
please everyone else. i was just too
small to get away.

small and powerless.

i've become completely numb
i'm a faker and i feel

except my stomach acids beginning to rise.


you'd like to guess in your memory

whatever we are, we're certainly something, even if it's just a little more than nothing. We exist as something together. Secretly, lovingly, hopefully. We're a dream of what something good could be. You're a dream. I'm in your dreams. We're something - simple, delicate, and vulnerable. We've exposed each other to our deepest sides full of hidden love and masked emotions. Whatever we are - we're a confusion of what could be. A mistake, maybe, but an assurance that something bigger than ourselves exists in the in-betweens. It's ok to need me. It's ok to love my mind. It's ok to connect with me. It's ok to imagine me in your future. It's ok that you're already committed to someone else, physically, because I know in some way that you've connected to me, spiritually. I like the pattern you give to my heartbeat.

I like you - I'm sorry.

these dreams dissolve

my body is aching in the metal silence of all my fears. And I keep thinking the only way that i can keep myself from falling asleep is by digging my fingers into my eye sockets. This is a feeling I wish didn't have to exist. I wish most all of the ways that I'm feeling didn't exist. (especially this unknown feeling) The confusion toward the way i am feeling about you and what i want from us both. This confusion toward each of you that have plucked pieces of my heart right out of my chest and indefinitely become objects of my affection. I wish i could strum on your heartstrings the way mine are being played. and the echoes and chimes will ring from deep down in our core - as to create a momentary song in time. Every connection is just the preview to a life-long symphony. whether you choose to dance to it, or not, is up to you. My eyes are so tired that i believe I've forgotten how to listen - or how to press pause. My eyes are so tired, that i don't care either way.



So I asked him the other day
What he wanted out of me. And to tell me my place, so I’m not so confused anymore.
I keep getting caught up between acting like a girlfriend, but not being his girlfriend.
I tried to really speak up for myself. I’m tired of him thinking he can try to tell me what he thinks I want to here, just so he can get what he wants from me. It’s ok really, if that’s what he wants, I just wish he didn’t act like we were more than that. He never answered my question, only followed it with “what do you want from me?” The only thing I want is for him to stop pretending like we’re more than we are. I’m tired of him feeding me half truths, and empty promises. The ones I hang on to in order to keep myself around. I wish you would answer my question and tell me where I belong in your life. Even if it’s nowhere.

I’m trying to forget you.
But it’s hard.