Wednesday, November 14, 2012

bringing it back because I'm reading it at the wedding this weekend ahh!


I stand before all the love I've known in my life and it's you who I choose,
The day we met was the first chapter of something beautiful I've read before,
But its your version that I truly adore,
Something I read before I go to sleep and when I wake up
Something beautiful that I just cant put down,
It's your words that carry me through my days,
But you are more than words, you are love in tangible form,
You make romance real, something I can touch for all my remaining days,
Something I can breathe and taste,
You are the love I've collected and saved,
You are the love that started in the back of my mind,
The love I had always hoped would surface,
You bring it out of me, you let it rest in my thoughts
You make it move, you make it speak,
& never is it still or silent as long as I am with you,
For as long as I am.

Even the strong can't resist it.
I've seen cold and closed off,
spark and unpeel
& leave flowers and notes.
I've seen the stern and stubborn
waiting for someone.
Even napoleon wrote beautiful letters to Josephine.
No shield, spear, gun, briefcase, position, age, or perspective
can protect you from it.


sick

I remember my mom saying to me that one of the "tests" in a relationship is how you handle the other person being sick. I asked her in greater detail and saw her mind travel back to the time of the story she was about to tell me," I remember I was going out with this guy for awhile and I got really sick. I mean so sick that I couldn't get out of bed, I couldn't do anything. I would ask him for something and it was like he didn't want to or he didn't have the time. Eventually I had to call my friend so she could get me some groceries and take care of me. That's when I knew I didn't really want to be with him." Maybe I'm a big baby because I expect the treatment my mother gave me when I was a little girl. I used to have a colorful cassette player that had an obnoxious microphone attached to it. I would then put this microphone to work, "Mommmmm, can you bring me some soup please?" and she would. She would sweep her hand over my burning hot forehead and watch terrible lifetime movies with me and bring me hot chocolate. She made it a point not to let me go back to school until I was completely better. This also included fun events such as birthday parties, field trips, and sleep overs. Mom knew there was a white blood cell battle going on inside me, she knew that because of this battle my skin was firing up, my nerves were squeezing in response, that kleenex and generally yummy and soothing things were in demand. Don't try and "be strong" was the message she gave me, that's stupid-just rest and get better or it'll get worse. I like your style, mom.
     I remember one time you were sick. I can't remember how far into the relationship it was, but you told me you weren't feeling well and we were supposed to go have dinner at my brother Matt and his fiance (soon wife! hi Amy! :)Amy's place. I told my mom you were sick, um because we were living there and I tell her pretty much everything. Matt and Amy came over for a surprise visit and we were both downstairs in our room. They called down the stairs to us asking about dinner that night when my mom interjected and yelled out from her bedroom that you were sick. "Ohhh, yeah we heard you were sick are you okay?" Matt and Amy said with a disappointed but sympathetic tone. Alarmingly, to me anyway, this really upset you. "God damn, I'm sick, not useless!"
Baffled by this response I said, "Whoa....I didn't say you were useless...I just knew you weren't feeling good and figured you didn't want to go out."
      "Well you're telling everybody that I'm sick and can't do anything and I feel useless," you snapped back. So we argued about (?) the fact that you felt useless and I didn't think it was a big deal while my brother and Amy awkwardly waited on the stairs and heard this dispute. So they mentioned we could have dinner there another time and climbed back up the stairs. This is when I pulled you aside and said, "You need to be nicer!"
"Okayyy Bones (your nickname for me, don't ask me to explain because I'm not even sure) and you rolled your eyes.
Well rolling eyes just mean rolling words from my rolling tongue to you, "No, you need to be nicer. They were asking if you're okay because they care. My family is very loving and sensitive -when someone is sick we take care of them! You were being a dick. Arguing right in front of my brother and his girlfriend like that-no, just accept their kindness. Don't say shit like you feel useless. That's not what I or we are trying to make you feel like. That's your own damn fault if you feel like that. We just want to care of you, so let us!"
"Okay, I'm sorry Laura Bones." It was a simple apology but I believed you because then you looked like you realized what I had said and it began to sink in. Then you wrapped your arms around my waist and rested your head onto my lap. I started stroking your hair. Yes, shut up and let me take care of you.

Saturday, November 10, 2012

We're always full of words,
but when we see each other
they evaporate in the air,
they fall back behind our tongues.
Nerves get tangled in reality,
they get awkward and sweaty,
so we both swallow pills
and the words unfold.
The chemicals dissolve
and stir up what hasn't been said.
Love melting on our tongues,
I tell you everything.
You tell me I'm the one you wanna tell it to.
We kiss a chemical kiss.
We feel alive in chemical bliss,
but you know this isn't all illegal.
This isn't all because I made a deal.
There's real behind this.
Theres real in your eyes and mine.
Real when we wake up,
real when the exciting storm has left.
Large pupils, large hearts
bright eyes, bright fires,
look how pretty the flames are



Captures a fervent, whirlwind of a romance that becomes as chaotic and explosive as it once was exciting. and you know if you just like Rihanna, then whatever that's cool too.

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Untitled

A title is difficult to think of,
A title puts a face to cloudy thoughts,
But a title could be hard to grasp
and could make a face blurry.
In some cases introductions are inappropriate
and dictating words make me unimaginative.
Words for colors may also seem stiff,
I'd like to figure it out for myself
I'd like to say this is what I think it is
I call this that, and that this!
I guess titles can be illuminating though,
when you're unsure of what to build in your mind,
a something without a noun name tag.
Maybe I like to be unsure,
Except of course if I really like you,
& you don't ask me, you just mention
because that's just how it happened,
that I'm yours.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

WABAM


Why I Quit

I knew this situation was not going to work
when we started discussing relationships.
Sometimes you're the one who desperately likes the other
but no matter how charming and pretty you paint yourself to be,
they just dont see it,
it being everything you have to offer.
Ouch, sorry.
Other times there's someone who desperately wants you
[to see the it that they have to offer]
& no matter how smart and funny your friends say he/she is,
you just don't see the sexiness.
So I told you about a guy who really tried to show me how sexy he was
but all I could see was a friendly face.
I told you he had all the qualities I valued
but I just couldn't find the lust.
So then you told me about a guy
who really, really liked you.
You said that the fact he went to school turned you on,
BUT he drove this really beat up Corolla,
and just couldn't let it go,
and that really turned you off.
Now I am mentally rolling my eyes
and of course I imagine my old Corolla,
rest in pieces,
the one I drove from the time I was 16 (for almost 9 years)
and yes it had its fair share of fights
"beat up" you could say,
beaten with dents and scrapes
and sex in the back and front seats
and then I took little 'Olla to the snow one day
a place it was not used to
a place where I drove like an idiot
and a mountain punched 'Olla in the face
and a boulder ripped open its stomach
and it bled black everywhere
but this was MY car,
this was the one I had been driving for so long,
that I learned to drive in.
I lost my driving virginity to this car.
This is my first and I love it.
Despite her years and miles and scratches,
despite the fact that after the snowy mountain assault
she couldn't go in reverse,
I kept driving.
I would park in bizarre places so I wouldn't have to reverse,
up a hill, pulled forward, way down the street.
I would put it in neutral, turn it off and then
push with my left leg hanging out of my door
to move out of the gas station.
I did this dangerously, stupidly, for a few months
because I couldn't let her go.
Then a police officer pulled me over
and told me I had to let her go.
I cried watching my car loading onto the tow truck.
I cried and called my friend to pick me up.
So if that whole story to you was a turn off,
then I don't want to be around you anyway.


Sunday, November 4, 2012