That saying, you know, about the world crashing down around you?

“You’re what?”

It’s not an immediate thing.

“I’m quitting school. I’m moving.”

It’s more like a landslide.

“What’re you gonna do? How will you support yourself?”

There’s that  one fucked up little rock that cracks the cliff.

“I’ll serve or something. I don’t care. I need a change.”

And then it just builds.

“When are you leaving?”

“Tuesday.”

Five days of warning for five years of friendship.

“Will you get an apartment before hand?”

No one ever said life was fair.

 “Nah. I’ll figure something out. I’ve always been independent, anyways.”

I think you forgot that year I spent away from you.

That year I spent missing you.

“What will I do without you?”

And just after I earn my way back,

You kick every ounce of that aside.

“Visit me?”

You never visited, though you said you would.

But I know, somehow, I’ll end up visiting you.

“I don’t have the money. But we’ll work something out.”

I wonder if you’re kidding yourself into this.

Saying you’re so strong, that you’re all grown up.

But I know you.

“I just…need a reason to live.”

On the inside, you’re falling apart.

The weight of everyone you know kills you.

“Because there are still things to enjoy…”

And I’m so agonizingly aware.

“…Still people who love you…”

I’m killing you, too.

“…We still have to age…”

I feel so helpless around you.

“…We still have to learn…”

Because all I can do is take a shot in the dark.

“…It’s too much sometimes, living…”

And hope to god I reach you.

“…That’s why I love autumn. The breeze slows things down…”

You never seem to care about me as much as you used to.

“…It’s the perfect mixture of opposites…”

But that’s okay with me.

“…Exactly how things should be.”

I still love you.

“I love you.”

And  I’ll miss you.

Stars.

I knew, even when I was little, that wishing on stars wouldn’t work.

As the words of a wish flitted through my lips or across my mind, I knew they were only spots of light.

And yet I wished anyway, just in case.

Some wishes were pointless.

Just thrown out for boredom, or just because I could.

I wished for ponies and puppies and material things.

Others, however, I really wanted to come true.

I wished for my Dad to come home.

For my mother to stop smoking.

For someone to love me and take me away.

What good is a wish? When the only things that hear them are too far away to act, what use is there in wishing?

Certainly not happiness.

Wishes are dreams with a will and a hint of disparity.

I can dream. I can dream very, very well. And therefore it’s plausible that I can wish.

But my dreams, at least, I can create a happy ending for.

A wish is an open-ended question left hanging in the air, waiting for someone to answer back.

I’m sick of waiting, I’m sick of wishing, but unfortunately I act as a Pandora’s box.

I rant, I whine, I doubt, I show nothing short of a lack of faith, and yet…I still have hope.

A wish is a dream that may never come true.

A wish is a question, not always thought out or confident.

A wish is the hope that someone will answer you.

A wish…

I wish…

I wish…

I wish to not need to keep wishing.

Because no matter how much I love the stars, my neck gets a crick if I stare for too long.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Song of the day: “Dream” by Priscilla Ahn

I have never been blessed with test anxiety. Which means, in the passed twelve years of my life, I have never once been afraid of taking a test. There’s just no point.

The way I see it, a test is just a piece of paper with questions on it. If someone threw it at me, it wouldn’t hurt. If it appeared in my dreams, I wouldn’t scream. So why, when I can easily tear it apart, should I be afraid of a test?

 With that in mind, it should be noted that I was not afraid to take my math final this morning. No. However, I did feel a sense of doom. Perhaps it was the bug i found in the bread bag this morning, or maybe the way my toast burned just the right way so i would hate it, but as I stared at my test, I suddenly realized the weight it carried.

The next year of my life depends on whether or not I pass this one, simple, useless, math test.

And then the doom was gone, the bell rang, and I headed out the door.

School is over. My future is unplanned and undetermined. I have no idea what to do next.

It feels like…when a plane takes off.

You’re on a solid ground, you can feel it beneath you. And then a soft jolt, a minute awareness of weightlessness, and you look out the window to realize the ground you are so used to is getting farther and farther away.

Of course, this is about the point I would think of how screwed I am if the plane malfunctions, but…fate can’t screw me over that badly…can it?

I have been eighteen for twenty minutes (twenty-one by the end of this sentence), and I have no idea what to think about it.

Most would go crazy, jump for joy at having reached that milestone we idolize since childhood. I’m not mindless, however. I know that after this, after I take my exams next week and leave high school indefinitely, there will be no going back. I will never again be six, tormenting my sister while she babysits me. I will never again be thirteen, marveling at my first baby neice. I will never again have the support of age to fall back on, rather the opposite.

I no longer have an excuse, and from here it’s only forward.

I’m scared, for the lack of a better word. In five more years, will I be alone? Will I be boring and normal? Will I have made it through that thing called college? I have no idea.

But that first step out on my own, the same one I took in kindergarten, the same in middle school, the same in every other experience I haven’t wanted to do.

That first step is the worst of it all. And that first step is today.

It is now twelve thirty-one, thirty-two by the end of this sentence.

I am eighteen, and now I have to deal with it.

I should have committed felony while I still had the chance.

Depend on me.

Weigh me down until my knees burn against the asphalt.

Because no one else will do this.

I will pick you up and lift you

until you reach the brink of where you need to be.

And then I will shove you out into the world

where you will find someone real.

And you will hate me-God, you will.

The pain of being left on your own-

it takes far too long to fade.

But even if you don’t see it, you’re ready.

Because when you come to love me so much,

you will no longer need me there

to hold you back.

Depend on me,

I will teach you how to love.

Where are you in your life when you can’t remember who you were?

The big memories stick with me. The smiles of my friends, every great aspect about them, when they took me out, exhaustion, being wired and everywhere…I remember the big picture. But of everyone and every place that comes to mind, I can’t recall….who was I?

Did I keep to myself and always watch, or did I never shut up? Was I there for them ever? Did I cause them trouble and burden, or did I ease their pains? I can’t remember. A part of me doesn’t want to. Because I remember staying home and always being too tired to go out with them. My mind was so much easier to crawl into than a car taking me away. I was always sleeping, fading away from them. There were a couple who fought it and woke me up, dragging me out into the light with them, but I still wonder, what did they think if me? Who was I to them?

But now, as I remember every face every day, I know, even as I still crawl into bed, that I must have just been air. A breeze brushing past, making their hair fall across their faces. Annoying maybe, perhaps even welcomed, but unanimously, hardly even noticed.

I miss them, and as I waste my life sleeping, I dream of them pulling me out again.

Where are you in your life when you can’t remember who you were?

It isn’t a darkness, more like being void of light. There’s a difference, however subtle it may be.
The anger from when I came here.
The anxiety of being new.
The depression of being alone.
The lost, detatched feeling-as if my life isn’t real at all.
Everything has built up to this point. An ache and an emptiness all at once. I wonder, what does a touch feel like? Are there hugs that last for more than a second? Do they have feelings to them? To feel excited to see someone…to be warmed by a rush of love as I smile and run toward them. A sigh of relief when I spill what’s been bothering me, no matter how difficult it was to say. The feeling of warm arms around me, smothering me. A voice saying that they love me….
I remember, but I don’t recall what these feel like anymore. This hollow detatchment reminds me of why I did it. Years ago, running the jagged blade across my skin, using a fine point to carve a heart. Then it was the depression, but now it would be to know. To know that this all isn’t a dream. That i’m not just floating here, watching, with liquid emotions. I hate pain, i detest it, but to have something solid and controlled to keep me rooted to the ground….it seems like such a good idea.

And yet, it isn’t.

For temptation I have too much pride, and I made a promise.  Never again, no matter the pain. Because her smile, even if I can’t feel it, will always be in my memory, bringing out the good in me.

What I feel for you
Is a steel wisp of air
Unseen and unbroken

How long I have known you
Cannot be defined by minutes or hours
But lifetimes in the least

What we are goes beyond a simple love or understanding

We are timeless, priceless, ageless

We are…

…light.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I know, I know. Again? But it’s a work in progress. Conveying feelings can be an extremely difficult thing to do, especially if it’s hard to explain in the first place.

What I feel for you
Is a steel wisp of air
Unseen and unbroken

When shattered glass breaks your skin
I bleed

And I would place myself
Before every pain thrown your way
So that you may be spared
Of having any tears

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Yeah, this is another one of those ‘where in the hell did that come from?’ things. It’s actually three different poem scribbles that I placed together because they fit well, and I was trying to acheive the same meaning when I wrote them.

Bah.

Left in the wake of tragedy
With expectations
And camera flashes.
A boy with a country
Watching his every move.

When all they see of you
Is a crown and a pretty face
Prince, how do you feel?

This life is full of beauty
That you can never reach

Unattainable everything
What you touch turns to gold
Love is a dream forgotten
Better left on the cool side of your pillow
Then those who left you

When all they see of you
Is a crown and a pretty face
Prince, how do you feel?

This life is full of beauty
That you can never reach

Pressure and waiting
Who will know?
Smiling and fighting
Who will ever know?
Never enough to breathe
Who will ever know you?

When all they see of you
Is a crown and a pretty face
Prince, how do you feel?

This life is full of beauty
That you can never reach

Prince, how do you feel?