He has ruined me

He has ruined me.

there was once a time when I did not know

what the difference between being 

"in like" with someone and "in love" with someone was,

but now I do 

and I wish I didn't because being in love

hurts so much more than being in like. 

everything is so much more different now,

since the day that we first met and 

I thought him attractive -

at first - 

not knowing what I was getting myself into

as I slowly began to know him

and slowly began to learn what love means

at the same time that I began to experience 

what it is really like to feel so overwhelmed by a person

who is merely whelmed by you.

when his best friend told me that I was sure

to experience heart break someday 

I did not believe him

because I did not know that it was possible 

for a heart to fall for another without the other knowing

and that mistranslation is what ended up ruining me -

I did not know that it was going to be between us

or with him 

because I was misguided by a heart speaking the wrong language:

the language of being in like instead of the language of being in love. 

and now I know what it is like to be ruined 

by someone who does not know,

his best friend was right all along

without either of us truly knowing 

and now I deserve an "I told you so" 

because I accidentally got my heart broken

by not knowing what love truly was. 

He has ruined me.

I cannot hear his name without thinking about him,

even when it is someone else who happens to share

the same arrangement of letters 

because just the sound of that name 

makes my heart jump and my lungs pause,

I will never be able to hear that name without

thinking of him.

I cannot sleep without remembering the time

we slept curled up next to each other on a floor

because we were snowed in at someone else's house - 

my bed feels empty without him in it 

and I can't fully feel warm at night 

without him beside me.

I cannot wake up in the morning without remembering

pushing my face into his chest 

as my nose filled with the smell of his morning breath

and I still can faintly remember the sound of his beating heart

underneath his t-shirt. 

I cannot go on Facebook or Twitter without 

subliminally hoping to get a notification from him

and in the off chance that I do,

my smile doesn't fade away for hours 

because I cannot experience life without him in it

and I cannot imagine life without him in it

and I cannot stand the idea of him not being in it,

but we fought and I got angry and now I cannot talk to him 

in the way that we used to because everything is tense.

I cannot eat or sleep without my thoughts being filled with him

and I cannot help but regret messing everything up

because I cannot convince my heart to stop beating 

in the rhythm that it matched that day 

I snuggled my head into his chest when we woke up that morning

and his morning breath filled my nostrils. 

He has ruined me, 

and I now know the true meaning of being in love 

as he walks away and my heart

shatters.

Alcoholic in Reverse

I'm like an alcoholic but my addiction is in the reverse

because instead of emptying bottles

I spill them down my pale white arms 

and the liquid isn't made by anyone but me,

instead of being clear alcohol it is thick and muddy red. 

My purple veins that twine themselves underneath 

skin stretched across bone

are the bottles for the liquid I crave 

and my addiction is to shattering those bottles

so that I can see their contents 

spill out on the floor 

as my vision fades to black. 

Black outs bring mornings filled with regrets,

not from forgotten memories -

because there is nothing that can be forgot - 

but from not shattering enough bottles

and keeping too much liquid inside me 

so that my eyelids slowly open 

instead of staying closed.  

Like an alcoholic I crave that liquid,

wanting to drown myself in that muddy red 

by releasing it from fragile bottles 

stacked on top of brittle bones. 

They say that they don't understand my addiction

because they don't know how someone can reverse alcoholism

on their own bodies - 

they don't realize how it is the same -

I want to forget everything and fade away:

my liquid of choice is merely spilt across pale white skin

instead of emptied from bottles into empty stomachs.

how many times do I need to say sorry for you to forgive me?

your words make it seem like we are ok,
but your actions tell me a different story
and i don't know what it is i need to do for you
to forgive me,
i can only say "i'm sorry" so many times
before my brain takes over and i give up.
the jokes have faded and conversations seem
filled to the brim with anger and hurt
because i fucked up again and this time
the one person who i felt might care
was the one to get hurt.

and now it hurts me to no end.

i'm doing all i can to mend this friendship
we once had,
but sometimes things become too broken
for fixing and i fear that is what i've done
because i lashed out when i should have held it
inside.
there are some days when my brain refuses to work
and when the darkness becomes so consuming
that i can't help but curl up into a ball,
i look for that little light that i thought
you might be.

i fucked up.
again

of course i would lash out at the one i care deeply for
because isn't that the way things always go?
and i don't know how to fix this and make it better,
i don't know how to apologize and start over,
i don't know how many times i have to say sorry
for us to be what we were before

Music

I listen to music that is real,
pounding itself into my soul with each word
that flows through my veins and makes me
feel alive.
Words are so full of meaning sometimes -
I can't keep myself held down
unless I have something to tie me
and these songs are the ones that chain the
perfect meanings together in letters
that are just heavy enough to keep me from
flying off into darkness.

These are the songs that kept me back
from falling out of high trees
where branches grew in just the right way
to hold me in place with a notebook
filled with words twined together,
messy attempts at making songs to hold down
the other lost souls in this world.

The "Stupidity" of Villains

You know, I was pondering things a little while ago about heroes and villains and something struck me; the reason the villain ends up being defeated because they talk about their "evil" plan is not because they are dumb or stupid, its because they just want recognition.  I mean, look at the villains, most people can relate to them more than they can relate to the hero.  The hero saves the day, the hero is who people want to be, but the villain is who people can see themselves in.  Villains don't start that way, they are not born evil, they are born as innocents who are then mistreated by the world.  It is just like us as average humans, we are born and we live in a life where we are constantly being misunderstood and disregarded for our efforts and used by those around us.  The natural desire of human kind is to be loved and cared for and noticed, but that doesn't happen.  Villains are representatives of this notion and this flaw in humanity, they become "evil" because they have this overwhelming desire to be noticed by someone and to do something that gets noticed, that they can take the credit for.  Really, they are just trying to be loved and understood and recognized - just like we are every single day.  So when a villain stops in that moment when he has the hero cornered and the end is surely in sight, he isn't being stupid or dumb in describing his "evil" plan - he is only trying to get recognition and praise, he wants to take credit for this thing that he has done.  In this situation the hero is the parent or the teacher or the coach or the captain or the friend who takes that moment to listen to what we've done and then turns around and steals it all away.  The villain isn't defeated because he is stupid, he is defeated because of his overwhelming need to be able to tell someone what he has done and be proud of it, something that we desire to do everyday.  This common scene is a direct representation of the, arguably, biggest flaw in humanity: the desire for recognition that will never come except for in fleeting circumstances where it is then ignored.

So, I don't think villains are all that bad or unintelligent - they are just like us, a fact that I think many people ignore.  Think about it, who do you have more in common with? The hero or the villain?  My bet would be the villain.

things that were ruined: fire

once upon a time there was innocence
and now there is only a broken record of memories,
the tortured screams that echo in the darkest corners of a mind
that was once filled with light.

everything has changed

fire crackling, worming its way through the wood,
popping and snapping inside
as it warms a house used to mean comfort
and safety,
now it is only a memory of fear.
the fire was crackling that night as
innocence fled the scene of its own murder
and hiding under blankets with the sound
of a fire crackling nearby was the only way
to keep a little bit of sanity.
now that sanity is driven away by that sound
as the comfort needed at that time,
became attached to the memory of why
comfort was needed in the first place.

To Be An Adult

it is 4:06 am and I can't sleep.
contrary to popular belief
I am not in love or lonely -
I don't need to be constrained into
a category where lack of sleep means
that I am pining after some guy
because, apparently, that is the only thing
that could keep a girl like me awake.

why don't you men get your
heads out of your asses -
I'm awake because I'm afraid.
afraid of him,
the one who stole the night from me
when he molested me at that party
and everyone just laughed
as I left with tears welling in my eyes.

I heard him gloating,
saying he finally cracked "the prude"
and I haven't spoken a word of truth since
- or slept a whole night through.

this smile is how I hide
the immense pain that won't fade -
the pain keeping me up until 4:14 am,
not because I am pining,
but because the comfort of the night
was stolen from me -

the same night I turned 18.
___________________________________________
I wrote this one a few weeks ago when I was seriously up all night because I was having horrible flashbacks to the night of my 18th birthday (also the night after my first day of college classes) - the night that I was sexually molested.  I don't really talk about it much and I'm trying to move on, it's been over a year and I've since transferred to a different university and stopped all contact with the guy who attacked me.  The worst part of all of it was that it was one of my swim teammates and another guy filmed him, laughing the entire time while I tried not to cry and then they made a joke about it with the rest of the team which led to me being molested by a different team member later that week.  I don't know why I never reported the three guys involved (the two who molested me and the one who filmed the first time), but I never did.  I just quit the swim team and transferred schools so fast that I don't really think anyone knew what happened.  I'm so much happier at my new university, but there are a lot of things that I need to work through.  I still have nights where I can't sleep and I don't know what to do with myself, sometimes I wonder if I should tell someone and get help - but a part of me is afraid they would make me get the authorities involved with the guys.  I want them to serve their time, don't get me wrong, but I also know that nothing would happen.  There were witnesses who later told me I had exaggerated things and that I had been "asking for it" - just as they always say - I know that it would just be a lot of pain for me and they would see nothing.  I don't want to go through that pain again just because someone out there thinks justice should be served (mainly my best friend who knows some details, but not all, and kept trying to get me to report them last year).  I'm living my life and trying my best to forget, letting it out little by little with my poetry and maybe opening up to a few people here.  I know people have noticed that I have issues with things regarding sex and that I get really quiet when I'm alone with guys (at least, I think they might have).

In other news, that isn't so dark and depressing, I'm in the process of becoming an RA at the university I'm currently attending which I'm super excited about.  I'm also at 100 posts (this is my 100th!!) who knew I could keep a blog up for this long? I sure didn't.  I know I've kinda sucked at being regular and I keep promising to fix it, but let's be honest here and admit that life happens and I'm just proud that I don't delete this blog or stop posting all together.  At least I give a poem here or there, even if it is after a few months.  I've been having a bit of writer's block though recently so I've been lacking on the poetry and I'm not turning out nearly as many poems as I want to.  Hopefully that will change soon.  This is also a regular blog too, so hopefully I will be able to pop on and update on my life and the goings on in Utah (which is where I am right now).  (I am not a Mormon - just in case you where wondering).

Life is beautiful. Even with the bad things.

Have a great day, week, month, year!