write a two page essay about fire safety < keep my pride and get suspended ?



coooool among all my other shit

Defenseless at Last

Corners curled up to melt hearts.
Smiles can break down walls.
To show someone, so visibly,
That right then and there
It is for them you care
Will always leave an impression.
Stopping hearts dead in their tracks.
There is no defense.


Disintegrating stone; crashing walls.
Eyes can break down even 
The strongest of defenses.
Like a scalpel opening souls;
A silent way of informing the world
Of strong hidden power.
Stopping hearts dead in their tracks.
There is no defense.

"nobody cares if you're miserable so you might as well be happy"

I feel so fucking down, so broken. I hate to whimper and whine like that but I just feel so fucked up and on the very edge of my mental and physical strength. I’m crying so much, I’m just at the bottom of everything.
The one person I need to talk to, I can't. So instead I call my mom, my brother, I even call my fucking dad for some comfort. No answer. The only person who was once here to understand me was busy with her new homework. Old friends? Don't pick up. If I don't talk to someone I'm going to explode. I’m sad for no reason, I’m crying for no reason, everyday. So I dial the number that's been ingrained in my head for five years since we're civil again, and ironically the only person who has time to sit and talk me through my problems is the one living in Arizona with his new girlfriend. I felt less cold, empty, misunderstood and fucking alone. Some people can change that for some moments, for some hours or I can hide it for a while.
But every second I feel how inside I fall apart and I have no idea how to stop that. Why the hell is that happening to me? Why isn't my medicine helping me? Why can't I be normal? I'm constantly lost in my thoughtsand fucking things up. Why do I do this to myself? How can I turn my life into something wonderful and colorful? All I want is to stop crying and start smiling. and sleeping well.
But I suffer in silence without notice or care.

see below

She held her hand out. He took it.
They walked—not into the sunset or some sherbeted version of happily-ever-after.
Rather, they walked, her left hand in his right, down the sidewalk. It was an ordinary sidewalk, as far as sidewalks go, except where glass marbles we're paved intermittently in the concrete.
There was an eroded but still red fire hydrant, surrounded by chipped yellow paint, that they passed while traversing with hands held. Awnings for various and sundry shops provided transitory cover from skies that threatened perspiration while palms, not yet sweaty, gripped each other’s. The pavement that bore their feet was cracked with negligible irregularity, yellow dandelions shot up through the breaks, swinging their weary heads to stay out of their path, even as the shadow from their linked bodies splashed immemorably across slate canvass. She lifted her chin and eyelashes, sifting light through frail obstructions.
I like walking with you, she said to him, memorizing his face. 
I do too, he said, never turning away from the sun.
The sidewalk receded quietly.  

fucking A make it end

I woke up this morning sweaty and naked in my bed, my feet entangled in my covers that were sliding off the edge of my mattress. I could feel hot air streaming through the vent and reaching the sides of my ribs. The nape of my neck was damp with perspiration and my hair matted from all the tossing and turning. I laid in bed, staring at my fan making it’s rounds for a couple of minutes until I remembered a vivid dream I had been having right before I opened my eyes this morning. It’s scary when you have such clear visions about something that has happened to you and you can’t exactly tell what's real anymore. My mind flips every day like that, rethinking.

today i have heavy boots :/

This Little Light of Mine

I'm gonna let it shine
This little light of mine
I'm gonna let it shine
This little light of mine
I'm gonna let it shine
Let it shine
Let it shine
Let
It
Shine

how cruel
for arms to miss
that which
they never had

dont need anybody who doesnt need you

sunspots

urgency diluted
an afternoon sun
that was too bright
and shone for too long
to suit our needs

Everything is more complicated than you think. You only see a tenth of what is true. There are a million little strings attached to every choice you make; you can destroy your life every time you choose. But maybe you won’t know for twenty years. And you’ll never ever trace it to its source. And you only get one chance to play it out. And they say there is no fate, but there is: it’s what you create. Even though the world goes on for eons and eons, you are here for a fraction of a fraction of a second. Most of your time is spent being dead or not yet born. But while alive, you wait in vain, wasting years, for a phone call or a text or a look from someone or something to make it all right. And it never comes or it seems to but doesn’t really. And so you spend your time in vague regret or vaguer hope for something good to come along. Something to make you feel connected, to make you feel whole, to make you feel loved.

Vagabond

I have been cursed with
vagabond eyes that never cease
in their immortal hunt to
satisfy insatiable curiosity,
eyes whose eternal
adversary is sleep.
Oh I have been cursed,
with a mind that runs too deep.
The enigmas sunken at the very
bottom have begun to slowly seep,
lately they have been drowning my dreams.
Soon my consciousness will spill and fill
the oceans and then I’ll have not a secret left to keep.
I will have divulged every morsel within me.
I have been star-crossed since the dawn of eternity.
I have been cursed with calves
that make unrealistic leaps.
Obsessed with excelling, I often
cannot keep up with my own two feet.
But under many moons, I have
learned how to kill time on the streets.
Did you know the sound of rain against
asphalt makes the loveliest of beats?
I have mastered dancing on stumps as
I wait calmly for the return of my feet.
I have learned that patience will always
bring me back to where I should be.
Though I am damned, I always
know exactly where my thoughts meet.

"Lost in My Mind" by The Head And The Heart

"Put your dreams away for now
I won't see you for some time
I am lost in my mind
I get lost in my mind

Momma once told me
You're already home
where you feel loved
I am lost in my mind
I get lost in my mind

Oh my brother,
Your wisdom is older than me
Oh my brother,
Don't you worry 'bout me

Don't you worry
Don't you worry,
don't worry about me"

so much for anti depressants and birth control

fucking laundry

the heart on my sleeve
seems only to have ruined 
this nice, clean, white shirt

Decisions

Can not seek comfort in inching closer to you; my feet are covered in cold with a mattress uncomfortably old and an artificial wind upsetting clinically straight sheets. Emotionlessly aggravated in detachment chosen, spiders spiral down drains as water cascades against skin which itches only to be clean. Stopping all cordial steps left to take, past meanings darkened to eyes trying to sharpen a movement of sound in a still room. The last ship has sailed with one dreamer left standing.

Sly Moon

Sly moon, repeat
Quiet morning sermon’s reside
Day passed, and night preside:
The truth be kept

Clever, crafty little star.
How truly wise a glimmer you are
to sit upon a distance far
and spare yourself a love bizarre.
You clever, crafty little star.

Things would be much more romantic
in black and white
particularly this time of year


A gradient of grays
masking if these are cheeks
flushed from crying or
just blushed by cold

Defective Model

I came off the assembly line flat-out fucked up.

Semester Two

We won't stop
until somebody calls the cops
and even then
we'll start again
and just pretend
that nothing ever happened.
We're just dancing,
we're just hugging,
singing, screaming,
kissing, tugging
on the sleeve of
how it used to be.
How's it gonna be?
I'll drop kick russell stover,
move into the starting over
and know nicholas is
watching me
achieve my dreams.
And we'll pray,
all damn day, every day,
that all this shit
our president
has got us in
will go away
while we strive
to figure out a way
we can survive
these trying times
without losing our minds.
They think we're disposable,
well both my thumbs opposable
spelled out on a double word
and triple letter score.

Indecision is something that should be flushed down with believing.
Take a chance and you might find that the unknown is actually inspiring.
We try to speak with meaning but we can’t define thoughts
if they’re constantly changing;
keeping an open mind might be tricky if you live
in an already defined world.


Feeling is a sin for many.
Forgive me for I have felt the dissonant thoughts;
constantly battling my beliefs and my actions.
They say it takes two to lie but I've been
pretty good at it
with just one of me.

“In simplest terms, people suffering with anxiety are consumed by thoughts of the future. Those overwhelmed by depression often dwell too much in the past. Of course, some find themselves tossed back and forth between the two, preoccupied with the past, in constant dread of the pending.”

there’s no additives necessary
for Modest Mouse and pancakes
to wax poetic ceremony
melted butter finger trails
like sweet kisses across
the universe’s syrup fields
to the tune of beauty’s upbeat
masochistic self-defeat

"The disease is life itself"

Life isn’t meant to make sense. It is a congestion of people, thoughts, random inanities, illusions, etc., it is a mess of swirling disasters with few hints of happiness, and if you’re lucky, hints of bliss. But, see, poetry and prose are the ongoing failed attempts at making some sense of life, of hesitantly easing the dagger drenched in blood out of the bony hip, of solving the grand puzzle whose treasured solution always remains up for interpretation, of holding disarray and covering its scars and pains with smokescreens so that the good and the bad look nice and pretty. Life isn’t nice and pretty. And, the disorder will not disappear; but, too, will the cries of lovers and of thinkers, of poets and of writers, not fade into the midnight fog. We will continue to fail miserably in making sense of life, and we will continue to succeed in making life a lot more confusing than it needs to be, for poetry and prose will forever stream through our fingers.

that awkward text

I remember
the way you smelled
like afternoon naps,
and how the light
pressed like anvils
on my eyes,
so loud.

I wanted to hide
beneath the cover
of your chin,
but the sidewalk begged
and I walked away.

Concentration via Distillation

Drinking silver and spitting gold
It’s hot in here but I feel cold
Always walking tightropes between
Realities and dreams unseen
At night I sleep and wake to remember
Covered in sweat and grasping embers
Of the narrative that swam inside my head
Like smoke it curls up from my bed
But pencil cannot pin it down
Eyes sting like stars and now I drown
Midnight sorrows in alcohol proof
The best ideas are distilled truth

resolution: resolute decisions

why can’t I just
it’s just that
I’m sick and tired of
if I could only
the problem is
I don’t know why but
I can’t believe
but that’s what I mean
I hate it when
it’s annoying how
I can only imagine
if only there was
but it’s like
isn’t it funny how
now see that’s
I mean obviously
it’s just ridiculous
there’s just so many
I really do think, that, you know
it’s just one of those things where it’s like
see, no matter what
I can’t fucking stand it