A Gift for Jarom

Jarom Anton

A line from every post 

turned into a grand theft poem

When I was a kid I dropped a brick on my foot

I've been told I have a good heart

but Hell is in my mind

and love is blind

so WAKE UP

I'm too young

and love has left it's withered mark

and a scar that is unbearable

but it's okay

why we cry doesn't matter as much as the fact that we do 

we are still who we were when we found each other

 ...

When I was a kid a dropped a brick on my foot

because all I want is for them to see me

Sleepless in 301

Don't trace your first name and his last name

with the dots that show up in the back of your tired eyelids

And definitely don't think of his lip brushing your cheek 

2 am isn't the time to be wondering if you should have said hey or hi or what's up :)

Scratch the emoji that would mean you're too excited to talk to him

And maybe you should have hugged him with both arms over?

Wait no, he always liked his arms over your shoulders

Shit, you should have let him hug you first

Hopefully you didn't have salad in your teeth

you're trying to look slimmer even though Thanksgiving is coming up

Are you thinking about him again?

Stop

It's already 2:47 

and you're still wondering if he turned off his read receipts on iMessage

because he wanted to ignore you without you knowing

Stop it 

Close your eyes and don't try to fix the stutter you had yesterday

2:50 just sleep

2:54 It's easy, just forget about the way he makes you feel

2:55 No, cuddling him right now wouldn't make you sleep better

3:01 I love him 

3:01 I love him 

3:01 I love h

When was the last time you looked at my blog?

You probably have all forgotten about me huh?
That's okay, it happens quite a lot actually
I have a knack for disappearing.
Even though being forgotten is one of the most gut wrenching fears I have
I let it happen
Kinda like kissing the boy that everyone knows gets around but you do it anyway because those lips...
So here's to fresh starts and trying again
I'm probably not on your top 5 anymore
And when you think of your favorite writer on the blogs my name slips your mind
But don't forget about me quite yet
You haven't even seen the half of it

The reason I'm alive

She loved the night

For the stars that reminded her

She was still alive 

One hell of a brick

They painted my vocabulary with curse words and graffiti

I'm a brick

I let them decide what I would be

I'm just a brick

My mom replaced me with stucco walls

Just a brick

I stay home on Friday nights, because I never was a student section kind of person

I didn't get asked to Homecoming

Brick

My boyfriend hits on my 30 year old sister

Brick Brick Brick 

They tear me down and still expect me to lift them up 

But the pain built up inside actually held me together

And I didn't crumble under pressure

I stood my ground

I chose to be one hell of a brick

Sunday Eyes

I never was the holy type

yet somehow I always knew God sent you to me

I found you in my prayers

and now I see heaven in your eyes

those sunday eyes, they stole me away

I would have never taken you for a sinner

but if the worst lie you ever told was that you loved me

I would forgive you

as long as you're mine for another week

I'll wait patiently for saturday to end  

and have faith that when I wake up

you'll still be lying next to me 

because no matter how often you leave

those sunday eyes will always be back for more

His name was Innuendo

I'm supposed to write about love. And if you haven't noticed, almost all of my posts are about love.

But here's the truth. I have no idea what love is.

Because in 3rd grade I thought love was that boy letting me sit with him on the monkey bars. He gave me a troll doll with rainbow hair and I thought "This is love."

I lost my doll in the sandbox the next day.

In 7th grade he told me my hair looked nice and I started planning my dream wedding with my dream guy who said I had nice hair. And I thought "This is love."

At lunch I saw him playing with the Lexi the track star's hair.

At the end of 9th grade he took my hand and said he would teach me how to kiss. He touched my cheek and tasted my lips and I thought "This is love."

He told my best friend he would teach her how to kiss too.

And when I decided I was done with love, that boy showed up with his honey smile and said "I love you"

So I let him love me. Maybe a little too much. But he said I was gorgeous and "it feels so good." And after a while I thought "Is this love?"

I have no idea what love is. 

Maybe it's just another 4 letter word that should be considered a curse.

 Maybe it's a synonym for happiness. 

I guess I write about the love that I wish existed, and maybe it does.

 But if it doesn't, at least I've always been good at pretending. 

Haikus About Boys I've Loved

How to date a Human

1. Hold his hand and if you're lucky he might trace his name into your veins
because every human wants to belong to someone.

2. It's never too early in the morning to say I love you.

3. Give her kisses. Humans crave kisses. On the forehead. On the cheek. On the small of her back.
Kiss her until she forgets what it's like to breathe her own air.
Kiss her until she remembers she's alive.
Kiss her flaws until she loves them as much as you do.

4. Say their name often and your human will adore you.

5. Handle with care, they break easily.

How to Love Your Introvert

Watch this. And you'll understand me a lot better.

The morning after I killed myself

The morning after I killed myself I woke up. I made my bed and picked my shoes up off the floor.
I wore my favorite shirt that went out of style a year ago.
I ate a double chocolate brownie
and then I ate another one.

The morning after I killed myself I told that boy I loved him. Not the boys who whistled at me on my morning runs or the boys that tried to take me up to the canyon.
It was the boy that always had headphones in during class, but took them out when I said hi.
Today he didn't take his earbuds out. He stared at the ground with stone cold eyes.

The morning after I killed myself I walked past the girls in school that usually whispered and laughed about my clothes.
Instead they looked at each other with guilt painted on their lips.
I said it was okay that they made fun of me all those years.

The morning after I killed myself I held my mom as she sobbed on my bedroom floor, clinging to notes I wrote in 5th grade that said "Thank you for everything you do I love you mom"
I held my dad's hand when he curled up in his office with the door locked, regretting to schedule that extra meeting before coming home.

I sat by my best friend as she replayed the dance video we made at 3 in the morning that summer. And replayed it and replayed it and replayed it.

I watched the neighborhood girls pick flowers and put the yellow poppies in each others hair. I followed the clouds dancing slowly and let the sun touch my scars. I listened to the old man down the street whistle as he carried a picnic basket up the hill. His wife held his hand gently behind him.

The morning after I killed myself I walked to the cemetery where men in jeans were digging my grave. I decided I could have made it. High school wasn't that bad. They did care about me. I could have picked flowers too. The sun felt good and my mom was kind.

The morning after I killed myself I decided I wanted to live. But we don't always get what we want, do we?

* this is my personal take on a poem written by Meggie Royer. Thank you for inspiring me to share my own emotions related to this topic.

Pencil Romance

I tried writing our story in pen 

because in high school

black and white seems more practical 

when we're young they tell us that love will last forever

since love is sharing crayons and holding hands when you cross the street

 now it's pencil for math and pen for English 

and there's no room for coloring outside the lines

how am I supposed to live in black and white

when I've got you

 with your chocolate eyes and silver touch

when you say my name and then I'm every shade of pink

I'm a blue and no one seems to like it

but your orange compliments make me feel like we're meant to be

and sleep is lavender when I'm dreaming of you

this time I'll make sure to mess up and throw away the eraser

because your the best accident that I ever made

so darling, please pass me the crayons

what is love

I cannot seem to decipher 

the code that unlocks the emotion I feel for you

Nor can I determine

what this burning sensation is 

that slips through every vein connected to my heart

I do not know if my restless thoughts 

are caused by an adoration of you

or an absence of it

But one thing I am certain of

Is the emptiness I feel when you are away 

And how I long for your presence near me

To feel complete

Why boys and girls can't be friends

Late night talks about math class and dates gone wrong
Spontaneous sushi runs and shopping trips
Jamming out in the car to T Swift and not caring how bad she danced
A friendship so deep he had mistaken it for love

Knee touches at the movie theater that turned into
Hand holding and leg rubs
Which turned into ear tugging and "the look"
A first kiss so passionate he had mistaken it for lust

Awkward silences on the car ride home
Questioning looks with no answers
Not sure if they were just friends or something more
A heartbreak so unbearable when he said he needed "time"

Walking past in the hall without a word
Typing countless texts she would never send
He waited for a call that never came
With teary eyes she walked away, mistaken he meant goodbye

This is definitely about hats...

You thought this was going to be a post about hats didn't you.

Distance

By Rosie P.

Distance could be 

The space between my

head on your chest

And your lips

Distance could be 

How far away that star is

From the tip of my finger

Distance could be

 One hundred thousand miles long

Or one glance away 

Distance could be 

A more bearable word

If it meant I was closer to you.

If you're disappointed this really isn't about hats just replace "Distance" with "Hats" and you've got a whole post about hats. Boom. 

Heartstrings

I'm not your puppet anymore.

You said things would be better now

but with you there are always strings attached

my lips are stitched with a triple knot to yours

and you can't see the scars on my lungs

from the goodbye I've managed to hold inside

you never asked if I wanted your heartstrings tied to mine

the noose kiss on my neck is starting to ache

and I can't get out of this death grip you call affection

so please just cut me loose

before I forget how to breathe without you tugging at my strings

VINYL RELEASE

I am SKINNY LOVE -Birdy's cover version 

Bon Iver always said it better

so I steal the lines that I was too afraid to say myself

And Urban Dictionary knows all that's left of me

is a malnourished relationship with a boy named insecurity

I am 2:03 in the morning walks that turn into night terrors 

when double yellow lines can't stop me from c r o s s i n g the l i n e

counting the seconds until headlights tell me to get out of the road

maybe I've watched The Notebook too many times

or maybe I like that I can choose to lie on that pavement just a little longer...

 I GET IT talking about suicide is taboo 

well as a matter of fact                                     that's my favorite game.

This is me, my vinyl release

I may be broken and damaged and just another hopeless romantic 

with no hope and too much romance 

but a scratched record is still better than waiting for ads on some not-so-hipster youtube playlist 

This will not NOT be cliche confessions of my deepest dreams
This is real.
I know what heartbreak sounds like and that dying is a very indecisive thinker
And sometimes I know what it feels like to be happy

This is me

 who pours milk in the bowl before the cereal
who's tired of sugar coating the truth
and ready to show the raw, unfinished poet or writer or whatever you'd call
a girl with endless thoughts and too much time on her hands
so just listen. while these words spin into something maybe more than that

Signed Rosie P.