Self-love

Trying so hard to hate everyone else when all she wants is to avoid hating herself like she used to.

My dreams are telling me what I'd rather not know.

I had a dream that you told me about your day, but I didn't say anything so you started to cry and ran off. I didn't want you to know how much I needed you, but I cried anyways, and I tried to hide it when I heard you coming back. But you saw me, and I saw you, and we hugged and cried for the rest of the night.

And it broke my heart.

Lost and confused

At the end of the street

At a fork in the road.

I'm not so necessary anymore

I'm don't feel needed

We're no longer a bundle

No longer a package deal

Maybe that's our fault

Or maybe just mine

If I hadn't already done it

Maybe I wouldn't think it possible

I don't want to stay here

When everyone leaves

I don't want them to leave me behind

Like I tried to do

When I thought it was my only choice

What am I doing?

What am I writing?

What am I thinking?

This is crap.

I wish my answer was something other than "idk".

Dear Jamie,

Dear Jamie,

I've got a letter I would like to send. It's lacking strings of words with punctuation at the end. Should I trust this dialect, to convey the right effect?

Dear Jamie,

I've got some things I'd like to set in pen, I would have used a pencil but lead's just not permanent. Should I trust my printer's ink, to express the things I think? Every page I tried my best to think of something to contest, with inside jokes and all the folks could have much more to say.

Dear Jamie,

This envelope will represent my heart. I'll seal it, send it off and wish it luck with it's depart. This stamp will be every action that carries my affection across the air and land and sea. Should I trust the postage due, to deliver my heart to you? Every page I tried my best to think of something to contest, with inside jokes and other folks who have much more to say. Every page I tried my best to think of something to contest, with inside jokes and other folks who have much more to say. Give you all I can, flower and a hand, I hope this helps you see.

Signed,

Sincerely,

Me.

Closed

What happened to them?

Those letters I wrote to you

We both were inside

One hidden somewhere

Such an unglamourus place

Just like we both were

Probably taken

Far away from me, at last

Know that I'm happy

I could handle it

Now there's only some dark marks

And I'm better now

Full Circle

I am so ashamed of myself.

I have never been so embarassed by my own actions.

But I've never in my life,

Been as proud of Andrea as I am now.

I want to sit here and sulk and be miserable and complain about my life which is perfectly good and dull and crap. And I have nothing exciting anymore because he's all gone and he's come but it's not like that's exciting because I'm never going to anything about it again, and sure I'm better and whole now, but it's like I've healed too much and I'm not as sharp as before I'm too perfectly smooth with no texture left because it's all been covered up with scar tissue, and I'm underneath trying to get out, but I can't. I know now that it's not good to be too whole, that people shouldn't be spotless and clean, because we're not and I don't think we're supposed to be. And I want to be like that again this time, I really do I swear, but I don't know how no matter how hard I try, and I can't just sit here being horrible all the time because I'm not like this. I'm not like this. I'm not. I promise.

Selfish

Andrea is sick and tired of being sick and tired.

For you.

And her.

And him.

And everyone.

And Andrea needs to take a selfish day.

Very

Very badly.

Irony

Ahahahahahaaaa.

So hilarious.

Completely ironic.

Oh HOW the tables have turned.

I should have enjoyed that so much more than I did.

But I didn't.

Happy to be frank

So yes, basically I'm trying to tell you all in a roundabout sort of way that the reason for going out to jujitsu tonight, was not indeed to obtain my yellow belt, it was because I was worried that I was starting to forget what his face looked like exactly.

And yes, I'm telling you I also don't mind not getting my yellow belt, because it means that something of mine, the belt that was meant for me, is now firmly and securely tied around his waist. And in a metaphorical kind of way, that quite pleases me.

Got No Dutch Courage (Ha!)

You're my little tall hope.

But I can't bring myself to that level again.

I don't want to feel helpless again, I don't ever want to trust anyone else with my sanity.

I've been so bruised and broken before, if I gave you my heart now, I'm afraid you'd break it.

I don't know anything about you, except that you're my hope.

But I can't begin to hope that you wont hurt me, no matter how much I want to.

I want you. But that's all.

For now.

♪

The best songs are the ones that tell me how I feel, without describing it perfectly in the lyrics, so that I can twist them so they make that last little bit of sense, all on my own.

More Jealousy

Why her?

Why does she get to laugh and play,

And why does she get to touch his arms?

Why does she get to be the one stared at?

And why does she get to be the one who doesn't even want it?

Who doesn't even need it?

I know I don't deserve it.

But why her?

Songs

I wish I could write songs. But not necessarily songs that people sing. Just songs that can be explored by people. Like, song I could show to someone, and have them discover every tiny little thing about that song, and the feel of what it was. I can take photo songs, or draw picture songs. I can even write the occasional decent story song. But my songs aren't very good at showing, because I wont let them. I make my songs secret songs, that don't show people everything, because I don't want them to explore my songs, because they're mine, and what if they don't like what they encounter? I know my songs could show people myself. But I don't think I'm brave enough for that yet. Maybe it's that myself doesn't want to be confined to a song. Maybe I could find a way to show people myself through me, but that's hardly likely.

Signal Fire

The perfect words never crossed my mind

'Cause there was nothing in there but you
I felt every ounce of me, screaming out
But the sound was trapped deep in me

All I wanted just sped right past me
But I was rooted fast to the earth
I could be stuck here for a thousand years
Without your arms to drag me out

There you are, standing right in front of me
There you are, standing right in front of me
All this fear falls away, you leave me naked
Hold me close, 'cause I need you to guide me to safety

No, I don't wanna wait forever 
No, I don't wanna wait forever 

In the confusion and the aftermath
You are my signal fire
The only resolution and the only joy
Is the faint spark of forgiveness in your eyes

There you are, standing right in front of me
There you are, standing right in front of me
All this fear falls away, you leave me naked
Hold me close, cause I need you to guide me to safety

There you are, standing right in front of me
There you are, standing right in front of me
All this fear falls away, you leave me naked
Hold me close, cause I need you to guide me to safety

No, I don't wanna wait forever
No, I don't wanna wait forever
No, I don't wanna wait forever

-Snow Patrol

Who you are

If I'm not pretty,

then do I only have my mind?

And why is it my mind doesn't speak,

And my appearance usually lies?

Dr.

Lying back. Drooling. Bloody tools. Bright lights. Pain.

A face. Not his face.

I don't know why I think of your face.

Maybe because of you.

Maybe because of what you represent.

But I know that the pain wasn't so bad, so long as you held my hand.

Secrets

Just because I don't sing well, doesn't mean I wouldn't cry if I could never sing again.

The Voice of Reason

Need to put on more foundation. Maybe some more powder.

You'll just sweat it off.

Could I get away with subtle lip stain?

Don't be so girly.

I need more mascara.

It'll get in your eye like last time.

My hair is frizzy, I need to make it look nice.

Just keep it out of your face.

Which cami do I wear under my gi?

One that hopefully wont show your bra to the class again.

Well, here goes. I'm so nervous.

Not about what you should be.

What if he's not there?

Then you wont be distracted trying to impress him all night. You should know this.

Truth

"I'm in love with all of them," she said, "that way when someone finally loves me back, it'll be sure to be someone I like."

Fire

Scrape. Scrape, Scrape.

Roughly scraping a match, tring to get a spark, trying to light a candle to drive away the dark.

Scraping.

Getting a bit desperate, starting to panic because the darkness is closing in, we're running out of time, and we can't even see the match that we're trying to light anymore.

We can only feel it, cold in our hands.

Scrape. Scrape again.

Maybe we're not pushing hard enough. We're not scraping fast enough.

We've always been afraid of a big flame, that's probably the case.

But the darkness is closing in, and we'd rather be burned than be in the dark.

So we scrape a bit more, and it still doesn't work.

Frustrated, we hit the box with the match.

There's a spark, a glow, a light, a flame.

The match feels warm on our fingers.

And we're not in the dark anymore. We have our little fire.

And we're using it to look at someone else's face this time.

At Night

I can’t imagine how having a boyfriend could possibly compete to the dreams I’ve had about them. I don’t really have very high expectations, that way I can’t possibly be disappointed again. I can always dream.

Hard Candy

Hiding behind her strength, only a few know, because after the sharp spike downwards, or outwards, you pass through the shell, the spikes, the smooth coating. And outside's where she smiles at him, and them too, and walks on. And outside's where she can throw snow at him, and she can still laugh and play and she can still look him in the eyes. And outside she's "totally over it". The spikes with the smooth coating, cool, composed, she's even popular with the people on those layers. She's outgoing for the first time, and she likes it. But at the same time when she's throwing snow and chasing him inside she remembers it all when it meant something different, and she gets that echo-ey feeling she hates, because the old songs are still echoing away in the empty place they left behind, and each echo beats down on the inner layer, wearing down the gap between inside and outside.  And she's afraid somethings going to crack her open again, because the layers are much thinner now, even if they're stronger, and everyone will be shocked at the soft gooey center that's going to come oozing out most unpleasantly.