I've always wanted to ride an elephant!

I met you at a time when I was depressed,
And I knew you were too,
So we shared this dark view,
But we knew we were capable of a lighter mind.
I think we fell in love with each other's struggle,
The late hours of troubled thoughts.
We had been hurt by the same kind of love,
We were in the same kind of plot,
The same chapter of venturing past fears,
But I looked toward the shore before you.
I waded out of the security of isolation,
And I couldn't love you like I did in those waters.
Eventually I saw you there in the sun.
Good, you made it.
From a distance we will wave to each other,
But it will never be as heavy and deep,
As those nights we cried and lost sleep.

Visiting your old house is like visiting your ex girlfriend.

She's looking good, but different.

Not the way you remembered her, but good.

Modern and separate from you,

independent of your new memories. 

someone paid a higher price than you.

Someone saw a different potential.

& now that you dont belong to each other anymore,

you find her strangely more alluring.

You want to be inside her again

but that means mixed feelings

because it's not like you could ever come back.

I ask some people what they wish for, and yeah there's things I would like to buy eventually, to have, to use, to be a part of...but ultimately it's not a certain amount of money i wish for, a car, a house....my ultimate wish is this:
"I hope I have a happy and fulfilling life, and that I may bestow my happiness unto others."

Repeat over & over.

Listening to his voicemail has kept me awake. Am I supposed to respond?

Now I come back to this post days later & I see that you still haven't left his grip.

I know this dance. I've done it before. but I was on the other end. I was feeling a little less than. I was feeling the deep stares, the "what? where did your mind go just now?' I saw that distance, that "I have a lot on my mind" look, which really translates to "I have a lot I don't want to explain to you." The eyes say it. Isn't that what they say? you might be wondering, what am I wondering? why do simple things seem so complicated, small things so large.

I always promote the use of language,

It is, after all, the more mature way to express something,

Even though I would rather a guy just kiss me than tell me about it,

& flirty & feisty can sometimes only be described as a slap on the ass

(butt, derrière, whichever word you prefer)

but sometimes I read words that are trying so hard to appear a certain way,

As if they're wearing non prescription glasses to be associated as smart.

I'm not saying that you shouldn't expand your vocabulary, your metaphors,

That you shouldnt pull out your inner poetry.

Just make sure it comes from a place you aren't constantly editing. 

A love like that

off my chest

I'm hungry, but I don't want to eat anything before bed. I feel like it would just sink in my stomach and I'd wake up feeling dissatisfied with my body. but so what? maybe better that than facing dissatisfaction with myself. I'm caring more about my appearance than my education. I'm saving up money and being selfish. I know I'm compassionate and understanding. I've seen many sides to things. My perspective is not narrow, but perhaps it should be more so in certain contexts. What I mean is, sometimes I wish I was more judgmental of myself morally as opposed to physically. It's great that I like to run now, but it feels like vanity is the major reason. I don't think I'm healthy, in maybe more ways than one. I run and I try to stay trim but I eat pizza and cheeseburgers more than a handful of times a month. I dye my hair and wear makeup constantly. I don't floss or stretch. I don't put on sunscreen. In fact, I strive to be burnt because then it'll turn into a tan. I drink horrendous amounts of diet cola. I use artificial sweeteners whenever possible. I text and drive. I stay up too late & burn myself out. I drink to the point of forgetting. I speed. I'm reckless. It's a wonder I'm even still alive when I think about some of my choices. I suppose this is what your 20's are for. and in some mental dustpin in my mind somewhere there is the phrase "Take care of yourself" that I keep brushing away and while it goes away temporarily there is still that motherfucking line that dustpins like to leave behind & then the dust just collects again anyway so it really seems like a waste of time......but then again if you let dust collect it will be overwhelming, stifling, all around you, all you can see. This makes me think of how I just let things pile up on top of each other. I lose focus and ambition and my delay just adds another dirty dish to the sink.
Then I think about your apartment and how depressing it is. It smells, it's dark and musty and probably sticky in certain areas. I don't remember what the carpet looked like in your living room anymore. There are stains that have their own personalities. The kitchen is a jungle of fungus, exceeding its expiration date in all kinds of ways. Silverware remains useless in a dishwasher that has not been opened in a long time. Who needs to wash dishes when you can just use plastic & throw it away? and who needs to throw things away when you can just lay it right there on the floor. Just pick it up later. Take out the trash later. Later. It depresses me to see where you live like this. Maybe it does because I see so much of myself in you and you see so much of yourself in me...I remember a time in San Jose when my room was disgusting. It wasn't quite as devastating as your apartment, but it could have gotten there. I was depressed. My room right now isn't exactly spotless either, but once it starts to lean toward the crazy side I make a point to fix it. I don't know if I can help you fix "It", whatever "it" is...but I know something is amiss in your mind. I'm not saying I don't have issues either, but I don't see how you can't see that something is wrong about your environment. I worry for your health. but here I am saying this to you after saying it to myself. and then I get scared again because there are so many parallels between us. You said youre moving in a month or so, and I can only hope you will start fresh there. You will leave all the garbage behind, empty out the trash in your new place, make a new state. You've helped me in times where I've felt very sick mentally & I only hope that this time you will be able to help yourself. It hurts to see people pulling away from you, myself included. I love you and I hope that someday this will just be something of the past. I hope you will be surrounded by beautiful things and love because that's what you deserve, not stale tobacco air and rotting food.
We deserve to be healthy....mentally and physically.

Yesterday I called you intending to leave a frustrated message on your voicemail, but my plan failed because you picked up the phone. As soon as I heard your voice, all the bad feelings melted away and I realized how much I missed you. I was ready to be defensive. Ready to be stubborn & annoyed. I almost put off calling you for awhile too. Maybe the universe wanted us to reconnect again because it knows that we have too much love to give, rather than being fussy bitches. Maybe I'm thinking too cosmically, but it felt good for my voice to bounce back off of your voice. We hadn't talked in awhile, and I felt like part of that was because there's so much to say. Even after talking for awhile I still felt I had so much more to say, but it was just nice to make you laugh again. Why do I have such a hard time communicating? It's not that I don't want these people in my life, it scares me to think about not having the people I love in my life, but picking up the phone is like this dumb challenge I create for myself. Just say hello. Just talk. Speak! The people in my life and who have stayed in my life know this about me. I see how it frustrates them. I've heard my closest friends talk about how I'm awful at reaching out sometimes. I've had so much love & acceptance in my life that I don't understand why this self made barrier exists. I do know that I will cry and wring out my heart from time to time, so if I appear cold or indifferent it's not me, it might be me in that moment, but that's not me. I may not handle things very eloquently, but my love is deep. Passive aggressive, but deep.

A man like that will hit you with bricks,
He'll throw them in your face, in your mind,
Until you start stacking them around yourself.
He might crumble later,
Fall into ruins,
Into pieces of where something should be,
and together you might weep for this.
Weep for the nature of rage
& how it speaks without asking,
weep for a love that doesnt know how to breathe.
But after crying out against this disaster,
He creates a roof of promises over you,
& despite the known leaks,
You will take shelter under it.
You will accept it,
because thats all you are able to do anymore.
A man like that
is only half of what he should be
and will try to take all of you to make up for that

I told you I found a metaphor for our love
"It's like a volcano because it remained dormant for awhile
and then it just erupted!" and I smile
"& then what happened?" you asked, and I didn't expect
& then all of its juices overflowed
and poured out onto villages below
& then what happened?
& then it formed into precious rocks that people collected
& put into their homes to remind them of how special things can be
I never thought something so destructive could have such beauty
but love makes even death seem less of a worry