I Found This In A Dresser Drawer..

Side Notes of Insanity

You look back.

And see a world. 

A world not worth even imagining; this world has people in it.

People but no places; a world with many repeating faces. 

You see people changing, 

Learning, 

Moving on without you.

So you are compelled to bolt away from tranquility. 

Or maybe it is just that chaos found you whether you imagine it or not, it is there. 

Circles.

Voices. 

Feeling. 

Secrets.

Imagine.

Imagine my world.

 Laying in bed at night. 

Don’t leave me to myself because that is when I get to thinking. 

Thoughts running, 

Running.

 Maybe that is what I am chasing.

 Running down a thought that you cannot yet put into words, 

Chasing away a memory, 

A reality, 

A mistake.

 I’m going back to the start. 

Side notes of insanity. 

Look in the mirror.

 Do you go crazy?

 For along time you can’t take the person starting back at you. 

Vivid. 

Vivid what? 

Dreams.

Day dreams. 

Lose yourself. 

Find yourself.

 See the beauty.

 See the fears.

 The world isn’t bad. 

There is the girl. 

The girl with many faces,

Many dreams, 

Many stories.

 What makes something beautiful?

 Glimpses of heaven. 

Someone told me that is what beauty is.

Not necessarily on a person but in the world. 

Somehow different. 

Imagine.

Happiness.

Happiness. 

Back to my world. 

A world seen almost through two sets of eyes. 

Remember.

Remember everything. 

Don’t put it on paper. 

Do you trust me?

 Don’t worry. 

Don’t worry. 

Why run.

That’s not a question.

 That’s a statement. 

Why hide. 

Why doesn’t she trust me?

How have I ever hurt you? 

When have I lied to you? 

Protected.

 Run.

Run. 

Run where?

 Don’t face the future. 

Your ready. 

You’re an idiot. 

Speak the truth. 

Fight for it; 

It’s not ok to say that. 

Your never leaving here. 

Watch me fall into insanity. 

Too late been there. 

I’m not insane.

I just really like the word. 

Something poetic about it.

 What if you knew? 

What is there to know?

What is my life? 

Let me think. 

Let me think.

 Make a wish,

Take a chance. 

Make a memory,

 Do it right. 

Are you happy. 

Yes.

 Hope. 

Pretty word. 

Ready set go.

 Find it. 

Chase it.

 Go. 

My life. 

There is the past. 

That is the past, how did you make it into my fears? 

Name a fear?

 No. 

No thanks.  

 Where is my past, the past I want to keep?

 The one with the friends. 

The friends that need to listen

.

 The one’s that have finally opened their eyes. 

You ready to listen? 

What do you do?

 What do you do when you lose what you worked hard to find?

 The people you just fit in with; and came to the realization that you don’t.

 Show me some memories. 

What do you say when you realize you have no one?

 What’s it like to hit a low point. 

What is it like when they say your just a kid?

 Are you saying it is going to get worse? 

Pick yourself up don’t blame the world. 

Smiles.

 Faces. 

Faces.

 Faces with names. 

Grateful. 

Gratefulness when it could be worse.

 Listen.

 I’m good at that.

 You listen. 

Stop me.

 Not you. 

Run.

 Run. 

Running races. 

I’m missing you.

 The girl who made me something. 

Who cared. 

Cares? 

Are you the girl? 

Are you the girl I held? 

Are you the girl who I held while she cried?

 You cried about the mistakes while I think, 

“This just doesn’t happen to people. Not us.”

 Are you ok?

 Are you starving yourself? 

Are you loading on the make up that makes you look beautiful? 

I know your secrets.

 Your smile says “Oh look it’s you.”

Your eyes; fear.

 I know your deepest fears; darkest secrets.

I return your fake smile with love. 

Love and sympathy

I’ll always be here for you.

 How could I not?

 Secrets.

 I know yours. 

I could give a secret for almost everyone I know for more than a month. 

Why? 

Listen. 

I listen.

 Who knows my secrets? 

Who knows?

This is all just;

Side notes of insanity. 

Dear Me

Dear me,

                You. Were. Prettier. Last. Year.

Write.

Write something until you feel.

Feel something.

Just wanting to belong,

To something,

Anything.

Anything is a risky word.

I’m done.

A risky sentence.

You were prettier last year.

It’s my fault anyway.

I’ll never know those famous last words.

No one needs to be misleading.

No one ever meant to be.

This way, you’ll always be there for me.

Hug me,

Kiss me,

Look at me with those eyes like an abused puppy.

I’ll always be in love with you.

Mirror eyes,

That’s what you have.

You are what I am.

You were what I became.

Like. I. Know. What. Am. I. Even. Talking. About.

Cry.

Mommers.

Go ahead.

I have.

Dear god,

Do you cry for me?

Pop me some pills.

Insane asylum,

Loony bin,

Psychology ward?

I’m in.

Is. This. All. You. Can. Write. About.

No.

Is. This. All. You. Can. Think. About.

No.

I’m in love with my best friend,

And it’s not you.

You’ll walk away too...

Dear spell check,

Apparently you can’t tell between an essay’s format and a crazy person’s thoughts scribbled out.

Eternity’s mystery

Running through my mind

Indescribable

Can’t seem to find you.

34.

I think that’s my number.

Let’s make it 35?

Don’t leave,

I know I’m not reason enough to stay.

But, you were mine.

You. Already. Knew. I. Was. In. Love. With. You. Though. Huh?

So what is it you really have to say?

It’s just a feeling, Doc.

What is it that you want?

I want to be out of control.

Maybe then I would have a reason for feeling out of control.

How poetic.

This is what you do:

You change your self.

Cut your hair,

Change your make up,

What is it that you WANT.

Why is it I have a hard time letting people in?

No, that’s not it.

Listen to me.

But. No. One. Cares.

I wish I could forget all the bad.

Like when you go to church and repent,

God would just wipe you clean.

But. You. Can’t. So. Just. Move. Forward. 

Trust.

Pinky promise.

And you have access to my world.

My thoughts,

My memories.

And I’m more than willing to tell you.

Hunger is not a game.

You put up so many walls,

Jump threw my hoops.

Sit in the hot seat.

Make me believe I can trust you.

Who. Is. This. Kid. Who. Wants. To. Be. Apart. Of. My. Life?

When Will You Realize..

Reeking of smoke and disappointment.
Someone let you down.

You use the window; and slip out the back door.

Sometimes I look at you; and all I get is your hollowed eyes.
And I have to pick you up off the floor and will you back to me.

Your so far gone..
And your running the opposite direction.

Sometimes I find you; you with sailor's legs.
Vodka, Whiskey, and Chardonnay. 
It's all the same.

Under the table dealer.

I can smell it on your breath,
As you twist the sheets to your legs.
Your so lost.

I feel you shaking.
I'll  hold you forever.

Cold sweats and nightmares.
Bags under your eyes.

You never were one to fake a disguise.

Now I have to rescue you,
I'll get your dress.

All the while glaring your boyfriend down as I drag you to the couch.
I don't understand what you see in him...

You know what he wants,
And you're just willing to give it to anyone.
You want love.
And I understand..

"No. No. Look at me. Don't you let go of my hand."

You see his face; the one that got away.
He is not in the back of your mind, he is the first thing you think of when you wake up.
He is the one all your day dreams are about.
I know he is the reason why you wake up screaming and letting out shouts.

I love to see you wake up; sometimes I can tell you've been dreaming.
I can see the lights in your eyes.
I can see the old you.

But that's just the lightening before the heavy thunder.

It is a thunder of sobs.
And I brush your hair out of your eyes.
And I tell you that there is no such thing as final goodbyes. 

You walked right into my life,
You are completely faded.

I let you slide under the covers.
No questions asked.

I know you're trying to forget.
He is everywhere.

Tonight, it was laced.
And you had a freak out.
 I'm hoping you will make it to the morning light.

I can hear you.
I can hear your hollowed excuses.
Ribbons on wrists are in.
Sure.

But you need to take them off sometime.

Come back.
Come back to me..
Maybe this is a case of mistaken identity.

Maybe the real you is just a second away; and I don't want to miss it.

I don't want to miss the girl I once knew.
I miss the girl with the paw print tattoo.

I can see you are trying; and you've lost your fake smile.

I don't want you to fake it.
Because that is what it is.
Fake.

I'd rather have you how you are now.
I'll take you in my arms; all the broken pieces.

I'll kiss your forehead;
Wipe your tears.
I'll deal.
And when you ask me if this is all just a nightmare I'll look into those glazed eyes and say,
"I hope so. But for now this is real."

I know you'll see things.
Right now you feel like you don't belong.
And I'll just lay by your side and listen to one more sad love song.

You want someone to be there for you,
Not just the creations of your imagination.


Because people may see the truth slipping out.
And they may be by your side; if only for a moment.
But just like a mirage; in a moment they are gone.
Like they trust you to talk to them if something goes wrong.

But why would you?
They don't mean what they say.
They just don't want to feel guilty when they find out you no longer wanted to stay.

So let them read these stupid rhymes,
And maybe one day they will see; maybe they will realize,
This story is all about me.

 

Hurt Go Happy

The first think I ever learned to sign was,
"Hurt. Go. Happy."
Because I had read a book about a chimp, and that was the last thing he signed.

It means, that no matter what happens to me, I should be happy.
No amount of hurt should take away my smile at the end of the day.

When I am nervous I sign.
Or when I am scared I sign.

Hurt. Go. Happy.

 I remembered this today.

In the bathrooms after school,
A girl washed her hands then flicked the water into my face.
I snapped. I honestly did.
I beat on her till two girls pulled me off.

You could call it a girl fight if you want.
I bet that's what your thinkin'.
Or you're thinking,
"Damn, what an idiot."

Because that is what's running thru my mind.

Later on that evening,
While walking back from practice,
A girl slapped my ass.
And it HURT.

I acted on my emotions.
I yelled in her face,
And almost laid her our right there.

I apologized afterward.
But she really didn't have the right.

Memories pour in by the scars that are opened.
Maybe that is why I hurt so much right now..

It's a hard thing, being an actress.
Everyone is watching you.
So you better put on your mask.
That's your job.
The lights are hot; everyone is watching.
You have to be giving it your all.

That's my life, and I love it.
But the other part is..
Sometimes I'm just so tired of saying,
"Yes, Sir."
And,
"Thank you, Mam."
That I become a bitch to everyone the second I hit the showers.

I'm so tired some days I just want to throw my hair up in a bun and die.

As an actress I know that when you walk out those stage doors, your on your own.
You don't know the right thing to say or do.
Or how your story ends.
And that's what makes it worth while..


But then I remembered;
Hurt. Go. Happy.

I met a boy.
His name was Dylan.
And he listened to what I had to say. 
He gave me his number.
And he said to call him in December.

I'm sorry Dylan..
I'm sorry I didn't call.
I was too afraid..

You number is in my drawer; second from the bottom.

I met a boy.
He was deaf.
And I attempted to talk to him,
But he signed a bit too quickly for me to keep up.

He asked me,
"Name. You?"

And I signed my name and added,
" My. Sign. Name. Happy."

And I explained my story as best I could sign; some on a piece of paper.
But I finished by saying.
"I. OK. Hurt. Go. Happy."


And that couldn't be any more true,
Because that is what I have to do.

Nani Means Beautiful

 I thought about death, and my life so far.

But at my moment of introspection; I remembered a girl.

Her name was Erica. 

We were almost finished with second grade when she lost her battle with Leukemia.

I didn't understand why she didn't come back to school one day.

I didn't cry.

To me she was just...

Gone.

Gone like a girl who transferred schools, 

Or who would return with much anticipation after summer.

I just accepted how she wore bandanas over her head,

Or why her skin looked very transparent in a way.

I just accepted that one day the trees had pink ribbons tied around the branches.

It was her favorite color.

But, forgive me Erica.

I might be mistaken.

You were amazing.

As amazing as a second grader could be.

 

You were bold,

And I think about you often...

 

I remember how I had my first crush on your cousin,

And you always would plant yourself square in front of him; protecting him.

Very...

Motherly.

 

You intimidated me.

You were so strong.

 

...Did you know you were going to die?

And when I have thoughts like I had tonight, I feel so...

Ashamed.

 

How could I be wasting my life? 

 

Dear Erica,

I'll say a prayer for you tonight. I miss you.

We had a tennis mom.

And her name was Noe. 

She was on of those people you pray to God you have the opportunity to know in life.

 She had incredible faith.

 

At her memorial, the priest held up her Bible.

It was worn and heavily marked up.

 

He said, 

"She prayed for everyone. There is probably a prayer written just for you somewhere in these journals."

 

God, 

 I hope your taking good care of our angel..

 

Your cooking was heaven on earth, especially your pizza.

I remember your acrylic nails with Hawaiian flowers.

And I remember your doggie; perfectly groomed.  

I remember how you would talk to me about life and cooking.

Why didn't you tell us?

You were just...

Gone.

 

And this time,

I nodded my head to my dad across the table when he broke the news to me.

I said I understood.

But how could I really?

 

I had just accepted the fact that your hair was dramatically shorter; shorter than ever in your life.

I just accepted that you were skinnier; thinking it was a new diet.

 

I didn't accept the rumors that were going around about you having cancer.

You were so strong.

We all thought, "No. Way."

 

But then you were gone..

Noe,

You loved so hard and so so strongly. You taught me what it means to love.

Today I thought of you.

The school choir sang "Somewhere over the Rainbow."

And every time I hear that song,

I choke up.

I cry.

I think of you.

Because that was one of the songs that they played for your memorial. 

You were....

Nani. 

And so was your soul.

I have a family friend.

His name is Art.

He is like our uncle. 

He has been to every family gathering.

He has stage 4 throat cancer.

Doctors say he is not going to make it.

Dear God,

Please..Heal him.

He just smiles and hugs us.

Our relationship is unclear to others,

But crystal clear in the family.

He is my family. 

And I can't just accept his health fading.

I just can't accept all the coughing that you do..

I can't accept that I might be losing you.

We need to fight..

Fight for a cure.

In Between Innings

You have three seconds,

So you better make an impression. 

I'm just laughing at my life.

While I sit on the bleachers; In between innings.

The sunlight falls on my face,

Just like a million baby kisses.

I have just enough strength left to pick up a knife,

I am too weak to reach for help or pick up a phone.

I am simply leaving; checking out for the day.

Maybe I will return..

I'm just adrift at sea.

The sea of my thoughts, but that's ok.

Someone get me out of here.
Because all of my bridges burned down.

Don't look down on me because I'm a cutter,
In a sense, that isn't fair.

What makes me so different?
I'm just like you.

You have no right.
I don't have any either.

Look me in the eyes not my wrists.

Don't think I'm not listening.
That's all I do.
At least I'm worth talking about, right?

It's human nature to judge.
You can't just breed it out.
The eye is trained to see "different."
Everyone wants something different.

I managed to box up all my memories for so long..
I hid them away in a corner of my mind,
But now they return.
Old habits die hard.

I'm just happy simply to be alive.

Everyday I wake up and think,
 "Today I'm going to be happy."

Everyday I kneel and pray to God,
"Dear God, please let me be happy."

Everyday I look in the mirror and say,
"Please, girl. Let me be happy."

But when I lay down in bed at night,
I laugh at myself and all my stupidity.

Because when your sitting in the bleachers,
You can see yourself, and your mistakes.

And you think about all the things you should have said,
Or should have done.
And it just breaks my heart.

I'm just laughing at my life;
In between innings. 

Going Under In The Waiting Room

Everything is fuzzy.
Like a Holga camera shot; sunspots in the centers of my eyes.

Everything makes my head hurt,
Just keep walking..

Dress out, no one notices how off-balance I have become.
But neither do I.

Make it to second period.
Try to focus on the nothingness that you have scribbled down on the pages.
I walk on out.

Make it to the bathroom, and watch my face.
Lean over the toilet.
Look in the mirror.
I can't make it out; it's too faded.

Take out my phone,
"Hey it's me. Can you bring me Asprin?
I think I hit my head."

I am bombarded by questions.
It's all just faint white noise.
But I can make out two words,
"Nurse. Go."

I'm too disoriented to make a good argument,
I hate having to ask for help.
Somehow I manage to make it to the office.
I tell her my story about what happened. 

 I lay back in a chair, and the attendant warns me not to enter the actual sick ward.
There is already a pretty sick girl throwing up in there and she doesn't want me to catch what she has.
Turns out, that girl was having a reaction to her medication.

The lady tells me I'm overreacting and asks for my guardians phone number.
I can barely manage the first three digits, "878---"
And I'm dashing for the bathroom.

I keep my head in the toilet for about 40 minutes.
I have a black out.
The other girl finds me, and I make it to the couch.

There is only one nurse for our entire district.
Her pictures line the desk; the desk is dusty.
And I'm laying down trying to block out all the light thinking,
"I could sue this place."
Yeah, honestly.

Me and the other girl take turns throwing up.
My head is literally throbbing.
I remember asking her, "Do you need to puke or can I?"

She gets picked up, and I am left for another 2 hours of intense Hellishness.  
Everything is fading in and out.

Going under...

I dry heave endlessly.
And eventually my sister picks me up.

I am taken to doctor after doctor...
They can't find out what is wrong with me.
Great.

Emergency Room time.

I'm fuzzy.
And I wait what seems to be an eternity.
I'm laid down on a bed and asked more questions.
I have not the strength nor patience to repeat it one more time..

I can't stand on my feet as I grab for the walls.
None of the doctors really care as they type prescriptions and papers.
 I fall into a wheelchair and take numerous scans..

I can feel myself going under again...

Thin sheets separate me from the others,
I never want to go back to that place again.

They hook me up to a heart monitor and give me pain meds,
Thank God for pain meds...
To entertain myself, I quicken my breathing; making patterns on the machine, like a game.
I hold my breath.
So the machine registers my untimely death.

Then, I feel myself slipping away again...
I think to myself, "It must be the pain killers.."
And then,
I go under.