something i found while cleaning

Left right left right my left shoelace is coming undone a little bit. Eh, it won’t come fully undone for a while. I’ll leave it alone. For thine eyes alone shall bring the darkness unto my bright world. Did we have English homework? I think we were supposed to read something. I’m getting sort of behind, I really should work on that. Hammock. Can’t wait to be outside in my hammock. Feeling of weightlessness, even though I know it’s not. Why’s the light flashing? I wish I was insane. Tie the ribbon in a different way. When all I want is to walk past my seat, drop my backpack in the middle of the floor, climb up over Kevin’s desk, open that huge window and step outside it. Stand on that ledge, that ledge that’s not even a foot wide. Feel my heart in my throat, feel my heart doing backflips and my stomach clenching sickeningly. Open my mouth and gulp in fresh air, close my eyes and let the sun burn into my eyelids. Spots in the darkness. Spots of green and blue and orange where the sun is tearing at my eyes. It’s ok though. Let go, let go, let go, let go, let go, let go, let go, let go. And let go. Reach out towards that tree regardless of your heartache, regardless of how much hurt you have inside of you, that tree will still bloom like it does every year, summer’s gonna come anyway, the flowers are gonna blossom. Nothing can stop that reaching for the white buds jumping to them, knowing I’m not going to make it. Even if I died right now-the blood froze in my veins, or the air hung static in my lungs, that tree would still blossom. That’s a good feeling to have, knowing it’s going to blossom anyway. I’m shaking pretty hard right now and I don’t even know why. I’m shaking quite hard. I hate that feeling. I don’t have control over my body. Maybe that’s why I hate it so much. I’ve spent 17 years learning to have control of my body, and 14 of those years mastering that art, yet when I start shaking I lose that control. God dammit stop shaking. I hate when I can’t get my mind to work right, like its slopping through some thick heavy fog, a fog that’s physically dragging me down. And I never feel strong enough. I just sit. Just sit down right here, a puddle of skirts in the middle of the floor. Curl my head down to my knees hands working through my tangles. So many curls today, I don’t even know why it’s so curly but I just need to-feel-some-thing-somethinganythingatallthatdoesn’ttakemethreehourstofigureouti’mnumb,butnotnumb,justunabletoreactnocontrolovermymind. Catch up because I’m leaving without you, I’m leaving without you, grab at my neck. Clutching the hollow of my neck, across which my collarbones exchange loving looks. Scratching at it I really should cut my nails to get at the charm that hangs from the ribbon tie the ribbon in a different way around my neck. Satiny smooth stroke it desperately, soothe my nerves but I can’t. Tug at the charm, feel it pull the ribbon behind my neck. Tighten the ribbon, feel my throat constrict, how can it feel so full of emptiness, yet I have a sensation of tightening constriction can’t breathe don’t want to. Not today, no, no I’m just going to take today off, I need a break, just leave me here get your fucking hands off me, don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me just leave me alone stop looking at me I don’t want your attention, I just want to make myself happy, don’t compliment me, I’m not beautiful I just want to be what I want to be and I don’t feel any obligation to specify what that is for you. I’m not sepia toned today, but I’m not enough contrast for black and white. Maybe I’m black and white with a low exposure. Click, a moment in time, watch it slowly develop, it’s just like a memory, only a piece, don’t remember the before and after, only the moment completely out of context, could be a smile in the middle of a fight, but you aren’t going to remember that are you-god it hurt so much. You can’t even know. I don’t even know. You hurt me, you know that? You hurt me? You betrayed my trust, you betrayed my love. You don’t know how that feels, to find yourself like what’s that from. Finding out that a loved one has died is like when you get to the top of a staircase and you think there’s one more step, and there’s that moment while your foot falls through the empty air and you don’t know what to do. It’s exactly the opposite. It’s going downstairs, and there’s one extra step. You are safely stepping out and your foot sinks through the air, so you brace yourself for the fall, only to be jolted and thrown off by the solid under your foot, and as soon as you process that you’re no longer falling, your foot has slipped, and your whole weight crashes down and your heart is beating faster than it ever has before and you wait at the bottom silent, letting your heart beat, assessing the pain, not making any noise, just sitting there terrified. That’s what it’s like to be betrayed. That’s what it’s like to trust someone, to have a naïve sense of safety. That’s what it’s like when you expect the best in someone, see the worst, and look back, knowing that you had invented the best, and they were telling you their faults, but you didn’t see them, maybe even didn’t want to see them, more than likely didn’t expect to see them, so didn’t look for them. It’s becoming public knowledge which I hate, and I’m too shy even now to say why, because I can’t voice an emotion that deep. I’ve never said it outloud, I’ve never said it on paper, because I know that if I should, I wouldn’t be able to share it. And if I did, I don’t know if I could be that vulnerable. My heart was glass, and you cradled it lovingly, caressed it gently, and then whispered make a wish sweet nothings as you hurled it against the wall and down I came, splinters and all, slumped against a blank wall. And you never knew because I never told you. I don’t know if I ever will. A scary thought entered my mind as I was thinking in English. She’s always said of characters in literature People like that do not have the ability to love. They cannot deeply love. But you all can, and because of that you will experience more pain, but also more love. Some of you will harden, some of you will find yourselves more sensitive and I’m afraid I loved you more than you loved me, because we loved each other as much as we could. And I’m afraid that you couldn’t match my love. Which gives me hope that my next will does? Could? But I appreciate your love anyway. We were in love. And that was pretty kickass. But maybe you saw that I loved you more than you did. In which case, it’s only fair, and I thank you for that. This is the first time in a very very very long time that I have deeply thought about you. How often do you think about me? He asks. The silence he hears over the phone is not what he probably expected. She’s running her finger along the seam of her pants. I think about you all the time. All the time. And she gets a mental image. She doesn’t think about him as often, she guesses. Maybe once…maybe twice a week? Games are for children. And we aren’t children anymore. You took mine as you ruined yours. Cruel. You didn’t mean to, I know that. And you didn’t want to, and you still don’t know. I don’t know if anyone knows. Knows. It’s a difficult subject still, the betrayal of a heart.




i need a hug, it says on her shirt, on her soul.