Growing Pains.

"our lives are a bridge, let’s build bridges to each other
and pray we don’t go under, oh these careless waters
our lives are a bridge for us to give, I want to build a better bridge"


&


I feel Like I am breaking. 
The perks of growing up add up, 
but the pain stacks higher. I am claustrophobic from it,
and I am tired of smiling and my legs are long enough. 
My muscles ache from the running I do to keep myself sain, and they laugh. 
Eyes beating the signs of love from heartache, two widows unifying to grow together, yet there love used to use the same tube, now they sit together, rubbing the backs of different pasts and condensing there fingers onto fleshy hearts, because one can't be alone. We weren't created to be alone so they swim through the seaweed and muck aiming to cure my sea sickness but I can't swim. 


Mediocracy sang its song, i lost my voice,
and the weathered hopes of a better tomorrow spoke,
Thunderstorms all week. I bring an umbrella because I melt when water touches me, 
but the fear of water touching me scares  me more, so I stay in. 
I save my strength for better hopes now and buid a house made of ice, and if "Home is where the heart is," then mine is stone cold and my legs  have frostbite.




I tried so hard to swim. I promise.
 I have webbed feet, I was born for this, but the water is too warm and I can't defrost yet.
My mind grew faster than my legs so they try to catch up, but this is not a checkmate. 
These pieces are jagged,badgering my spirit to surrender them but I will just get new ones.
My crooked teeth once were straight, like my ideas of life, or my spine. Now I have pains.
Specifically on my left side, below the breast, right inside the rib cage.


-M


&



"from every wrong we’ve done to each other, if I forgive will you forgive?
our hearts are abridged, let’s build bridges to each other
so this river won’t take us under, so we don’t take ourselves under"

This ISN'T easy.

"This isn't easy, this isn't clear, You don't need Jesus till' your here,"

- Ben Rector.

And we thought it wasn't easy to describe it. Well folks, heartbreak is heartache which creates heartscars, and sometimes I just need some sleep.

I wish the pain would stop defining me, and  stop binding me like a ship to a sail.

You want me to function through the pain? Oh well why didn't you just tell me that.

Losing the fear that binds the sadness is the grail, the holy is to have a smile while doing it.

Emotional maturity is the apple after you planted the tree, dug the soil, and prayed repetitively for water,

I will just take a orange.

-M

Emotional Coloring.

I never knew colors could be used for more than an eyelid or designs, that symbolize our lifestlye; but they do. The shades that stain my ,ever so evolving, life have been bleeding outside the lines lately. I guess I always knew since, the time I punched a girl in kindergarden for not listening to me, that there was " more that met the eye," I just never knew the length. Everyone has a make-up of sorts that resinate through their entirety of emotion spills, or just in certain pallets of life.  I feel like mine are starting to mix at moments they weren't designed too. All I can do here is watch as my layers peel back revealing my flesh of a soul, while recreating the scheme that was never mine to recreate. My emotions are coloring with a sharpie fine point, I think I need to tell them to use a pencil with an eraser. 

-M

Bon Anniversaire!

If I could wish for one thang', I would wish to be with you today.

Happy Birthday M.

-M

Shifty Handles.

If only I could hold onto these forever, in moments like these.

Retreation.

-M

V.W

On days like this I miss you, well what I feel you would be,
But I have to be smart.

On days like this I can feel my heart defrosting and my eyes reopening,
But I know this is just a temporary thang'.

On days like this I lay on the grass and feel my breeze against my sweat soaked hair,
but I know you would lay right beside me.

I wish for days like this, and  I know that no matter what, I will be okay... repeat line for emphasis.

-M

Autopilot.

I Give in effort to trust the one who holds my death,
but trusting comes with boundaries that one can not persist, at.
I danced around the ideas of you like musical chairs in the 2nd grade,
only to escape the twilight of life, that punched me like words you spit at me,
when my ears were on fire and nothing could confine them. I knew you were the life,
I know you are the life, life.

I cryed, I weeped, I mourned, I coped. Then I got in the car and put it on cruise,
Because I was tired of knowing when to accelerate or slow down.  You take the wheel, aye?
I tried that and I ended up in the hospital room, 2nd floor E.R, with more than a broken ankle. Could
You fix that? Oh I have to get on my knees now. Well I wish I  could, but ya see my ankle.

When did sacrifice transform into heartache and hopelessness was the stepping stone to happiness?
Oh and how come I have to hurt deeply to love deeply? Where's the pause button again?


-M

Valentunes.

Luckiest- Ben Folds

To whom it may concern- Civil Wars

Wooden Heart- Listener

New Romantic- Laura Marling

Delicate- Damien Rice

Your Hand In Mine- Explosions in the Sky

Heart it Races- Architecture in Helsinki 

There You Go Loves...M 

Drinkable space.

Still a little bit of your taste in my mouth

Still a little bit of you laced with my doubt

Still a little hard to say what's going on

Still a little bit of your ghost you witness

Still a little BIT of your face I haven't kissed

You step a little closer EACH DAY

That I can't say what's going on

Stones taught me to fly

Love taught me to lie

Life taught me to die

So it's not hard to fall

When you float like a cannonball

Still a little bit of your song in my ear

Still a little bit of your words I long to hear

You step a little closer TO ME

So close that I can't see what's going on

Stones taught me to fly

Love taught me to lie

Life taught me to die

So it's not hard to fall

When you float like a cannonball

Stones taught me to fly

Love taught me to cry

So come on courage!

Teach me to be shy

'Cause it's not hard to fall

And I don't WANNA scare her

It's not hard to fall

And I don't wanna lose

It's not hard to grow

When you know that you just don't know

Wikipedia.

My songs are not your songs,

My heart is not your heart,

My steps are not your steps,

My breath is not your breath,

My lines are not your lines,

My dreams are not your dreams,

But my love matches your love.

So do I throw it all on the floor,

For you to pick up and mold?

-M

Chameleon.

I feel my whole life has been coping, thinking, accepting,coping thinking, and some loving. Sure on the outside I have had temporary happiness, but I havn't felt that deep, true satisfaction since I learned I could sing when I was little.

I wish I could say God is all I need, that he is faithful and relieves every burden, and loves me; but the last couple of years all I have felt like is a chess piece being moved around periodically space to space. I get that if we actually knew the secrets of life that there wouldn't be any reason to live, there would be no reason to pursue anything or mystery in finding love, but it doesn't make living it any better. To defeat the thoughts of defeat, I find myself reciting God is good, God is good, God is good on a daily basis. No JOKE, More than anything I want that to be one but I do, With my own lips I have to say that to get me through the day, not consistantly but up until the last month I got through my days like that.

I don't want to believe that anymore.

This last semester of school has been more than a few bad grades, it been a wasteland of pain. Aside from the few months following my moms death, I have never felt more alone and to put it plainly, unhappy. I found myself these last couple months reciting curse words instead of encouragements and debating an early death rather than feeling terrified of it. For years now I have felt a since of confusion and dealt with life in some real ways but I am on such a foreign island that I won't even know where to send the smoke signal for someone to save me. I have never felt such a need to isolate myself from myself before, I just want to get back to who I was, or who I always saw myself to be. I am in such a transitioning stage in my life and I would like to blame it on just growing up and realizing how life is, but iamma no fool. I know its so much deeper than that and I have hunted for the roots but every time I find an ounce of relief I am back feeling hopeless.

I think so much deeper than most, not entirely because what I have gone through but because thats me. I feel like writing helps me have some since of control over my life, because I choose to remember what I want too. I have not felt a sense of stability in my life in a really long time and writing makes me feel stable and helps me analyze/ see life less realistic.

I am writing all of this to proclaim that I have never felt more bitter these last two weeks than the lemon I put regularly in my water. Like I said, this last semester I couldn't be farther away from myself then if you dumped me on top of mt. everest and coming home for a whole month of vacation was what I was needing.

So I came home for winter break, heart raw and mind exhausted. Then reality hit, its been 3 years since my mom died and apparently thats been enough time for my dad to start loving someone else.( I don't want you to misunderstand me though, I love my dad and the moment my mom died I realized he would be alone and that I wouldn't be able to ever accept that, so I am not saying that I want him to be alone or never find love)My dad told me the day after christmas that they have been dating. That someone else would be my moms old best friend. Who up until know I called name for most my life. I get it, how selfish to be mad or upset, but why her? why now? On top of the normal insecurities of a step mom figure i am dealing with past drama from her family, long stories, so its alot to swallow. I already felt like a hopeless case with a cold soul and to add this to the equation is just brain freezing. I am so pissed and I am so sad. I feel like I am stuck in the past when everyone else is looking toward the future. I tried ya know, to look to the future and I started getting a panic attack and tired.

There's alot more to the story and to my heart but I wrote you all of this to say that I get it, WELL some of it, of course different stuff but I am there with you, I am bitter and tired of being bitter, tired of sounding bitter, tired of looking bitter but until the acid in my blood finds a refuge, I keep smiling and forcing laughs and maybe, just maybe I will find my way back to my happy spirited self.


-M

Fire.

Banjo.

Spinning around like a fresh fallen leaf,
trying to find some common ground.
Who knew you would be,
the easy flight to spare me the massive hike.

Strumming my heart like a silly string,
fingers numb from all this intensity,
we found common harmonies, yet
never questioning the melody.

I sing, I sing to find the words
that are flying around this aesthetic world,
could a touch of heart be enough,
to dry these tears before they are heard?

Would the music play the same beats,
if the strings, got broken from the start?
And if my voice spoke what it meant,
could heart and mind make amends?

Strumming is simple, just a flick of the wrist.
But finger picking takes time that one can not resist.

So I pack my heart tight with cotton and glue,
in case for a bad break,
I will be spared a big boom.

-M

Tango.

Eyes to the sky, mind in the ground.

Not knowing why isn't the case.

Leaping towards the floor, he carries himself to the pews,

genetics speak louder then a blood type for him, they leak out clues.

The basis of his muse is comfort, 

yet why won't his heart eat the blood that was designated for him.

Missteps are in his nature, 

then why does the trip make him fall?

Shaking like california plates, he whispers to his soul

" Don't test the handling,"

and gracefully moves his feet towards the landing strip.

 She is as blue as a vain, that keeps her feet moving in his direction

moving is easy, when your hearts on empty.

Head bopping like a Pez dispenser, she agrees to show him her world.

spinning around in his grasp, she knows the practice that he put in,

So her eyes grab his and gently rotates her head back.

He steps on her feet, every turn,

 she knows the risk, 

but carries the pain.

As her feet turn dark blue as the vain, that carried her feet in his direction, they break. 

His brown hair covers his fear,  

Leaving her questioning their dance.

Practice is key, for him. 

Some dances are danced alone, so she steps aside as he moves his feet over her skin and bones.

one step, two, tango.

-M

Caribou

-M

Chess Pieces.

So here we are again two players

Playing one part in this fairytale game

But I have Seen this one Play out

And I know the end, don’t be fooled, come again

So I hide the piece, that was broken for you to mend.

Mumbling Mumford.

Decided to let this one back in...

Cold in the water

It freezes your already cold mind
Already cold, cold mind
And death is at your doorstair
And it will steal your innocence
But it will not steal your substance

But you are not alone in this
And you are not alone in this
As brothers we will stand and we'll hold your hand
Hold your hand

And you are the mother
The mother of your baby child
The one to whom you gave life
And you have your choices
And these are what make man great
His ladder to the stars

But you are not alone in this
And you are not alone in this
As brothers we will stand and we'll hold your hand
Hold your hand

And I will tell the night
Whisper, "Lose your sight"
But I can't move the mountains for you

-Mumford & Sons

Dear God loving, Mustache wearing, people caring YOU,

Hurt.

  Johnny Cash has a way with words wouldn’t you say. Aye? Ha. I can’t put it any more clean than this... shit. Hurt is supposed to come and go right? Then why do I feel the basis of my feeelings stem from intense hurt. I never speculated that I would be here; a second semester freshman at a University, the world at my fingertips and I want to do is put my hands in my pockets and walk away. My life is starting and all I want to do is end it. I couldn’t be more unmotivated and more desolate. All I ever wanted was a slice of pie not the whole pie just a slice. Instead God gave me the recipe. Being emotional is in my breed but being hopeless is me. Sometimes I have to wonder if life will always be this way, If God just protected me all this time because it wasn’t time to reveal it.  

Only time will tell. 

I am tired of putting my heart in safe hands, only  to be shoved in a pocket to rust and rot. I know its not my understanding but his, however I am starting to become more wary about whether its even negotiable. D hurt me, she was safe and she hurt me . I have a right to shy away from it right? Then why do I continue to have a gut busting feeling that I am wrong?

-M