(i promise this was meant to be amusing)


i stole the shirt from your closet
hope you don't mind
it was itchy, rubbing against my skin
when i tried to dance in the seat of the car
i think i spilled something on it
plus it's covered in me and my cat's hair
i sweated through the sleeves
and it was touched my bare breasts
because i hate to wear a bra at home
so now this shirt is dirty AND scandalous
because i lied--
i DIDN'T wash it
when i hung it back in your closet
the morning after

aLittleStarlight: come do my latin project

BAT5721: okay

BAT5721: i shodul get my one legged one toother dirty sluty whore AOL to do it for you

DYKWYCA is going to be one of the featured filmmakers at media co-op's film festival this year!!! we are very very very flattered and excited, and we have to hurry up and make movies to submit to the festival so that we are not ashamed with ourselves. me and dad ordered a new 120gig harddrive, and i think it should be hear some time next week. yay!!! i want to name it Petunia. i am very excited, and hopefully we will be able to edit BB3 and the crazy Sonic movie and country spacecraft ballerina and much finer and everything else that ever happened. and hopefully we'll be able to start some of the other things we've been rambling about. plus, school gets out on may 28 (seven more days!!) and we will have plenty of time to work on stuff this summer. we will try to keep you posted, and hopefully we won't just sit around like last summer. haha actually katherine and morgan and i just sat around looking at each other trying to THINK of movies for soooo much of last summer. hopefully it will be the opposite this year.

during the lunar eclipse, amber was talking to me
about how we, as women, are
connected to the moon
which is why her cat can't stop licking herself
and why my period came early
and why i feel like shit suddenly
not even chocolate can make me better this time
i tried that
and sucked down so much mocha that
i burned my tongue raw
and rediscovered that i don't like raspberry
everything that i normally find mildly annoying
or just something that happens
is magnified tonight:
the guys at the cashier talking LOUDLY over the open-mic poems
hey, you work here. you fucking host this event. shut up.
and yeah this goes to everyone:
i can't stand it when people refuse to pay attention
unless it's one of their friends reading
or they take their own poem up
that really makes me question why they want a turn anyway
they can't expect to get people's attention
i guess they just like the sound of their own words
echoing through the mike
oh, is that the case, then? how nice + selfish of you. shut up.
so tonight, because no one else would, i. shut up.
it had been going great like usual
but you know it's this damn lunar eclipse
that makes me delve into my coffee
as my people pair off
it's weird, in the middle
with familiarity still so close inside and friends across the street
amber stops blurring because for once she's standing still
lecturing me on the moon
i have had similar talks from mom and several authors
this is different from mom's abrasive loudness
and different from black print on a white page
because they've got it all wrong
the moon needs to be white print on a black night
but amber makes it okay
and paul finds a couple seconds to say a few words
before they've disappeared
that's okay, i've got Lisa Marie in my mug
and i can stare into the sky some more
and pretend not to be looking around to find out
what's going on inside, across the street
better check up and see how they are getting on without me
i ask Lisa Marie why
no matter how hard i try
we keep coming back here
and i know it is just me
and i know it's in my head
but doesn't someone notice that i'm missing?
jealous: his arms around her and teaching her to salsa
when all i get to hear him say is "stop touching me"
abandoned: she can't take the time to
string 10 words together for me
when that is all i am asking for
asking + asking + asking + i have nothing left to give
i tried to give her laughter and hugs
but my throat is just burned and empty
and my arms are just pale and empty
so she can't say i didn't try
pissed off: if making other people happy is what makes her happy
maybe she could have us on her mind a little more
and maybe when she asked "again?"
she should've stuck around for the answer
i missed a lot of what happened above the surface, back on land, tonight
i think i will only remember Lisa Marie
and maybe Laylee's lap, amazing perfect hugs, and
the most comforting words: just "i love you" over + over
because coming from her
it has to be true
and i believe her and i trust it
when it's time to go
i almost get left behind without a ride
because no one remembered to tell me when they started piling in the car
because, by that point, they didn't remember that i was even there
thanks, guys
your consideration has made my heart so happy
Lisa Marie loves you
in the car they ask in between words, like breathing up for air
backwards -- under the surface
"are you okay?" punctuating every few minutes
actually not really but what kind of question is that
and since i'm not okay why should i want to be interrogated
i appreciate the thought ––
in fact i'm glad you noticed me at all
and am i okay?
"yeah"
because questions are too complicated
and if you can't tell
then you can't help
it's easy for me to blame this on the eclipse, you know
a weird spell, never again, etc.
but wouldn't i be lying, at least in part?
because i'm too familiar with this place
to pretend that a natural phenomenon alone can send me here
look how dirty the welcome mat is
where i cried tears in my head that will not come for my eyes, will not comfort me
look at the paint chipping off
where i threw lamps and plates at the walls, like in a movie
look at the deep dent in the big couch
where i sit in my mind all alone every day
and i am fully aware that i'm exaggerating
i guess my friends love me
but right now, with the doors closed and the windows sealed, i can't remember
and no one has knocked yet to get in

she was trying to tell me
about this certain kind of Hebrew flower
whose name she had misplaced
she had it written down but
she took it out of the pocket
of the jeans she decided not to wear
and she put on this white dress instead
and she forgot to zip it up
so i noticed her white slip underneath
before i offered my stumbling hands
to the aid of her exposed side
she had forgotten the name of this Hebrew flower
because she didn't think
she'd be encountering one tonight
she said this flower hardly ever blossoms
rarely -- so it's an event when it finally does
she didn't really describe it except
that it's so beautiful
so beautiful
she said i was like that flower
and sensing a running theme for this month
i wanted to laugh
but instead i hugged her
because it means so much that she would say so
and she (so beautiful) means so much to me
i wish i could tell you about how she is
a smiling star in white cast on the cliffs
of everything wrong in the world
but she keeps shining every night
she always comes back to tell me
how i am like a beautiful flower
that i look gorgeous today
that i'm a wonderful person
that i deserve to be breathing the same air as her
that i exist and it's okay and so am i
funny because
i'm hearing that fairly often lately
so maybe it's not such a radical idea
i think most of this bad stuff is just in my head
and what isn't, maybe the people i care about can get around
the people who care will find a way around
i'm learning that i am not so alone
so maybe i should just suck it in and blossom

okay this is supposed to be funny. in one of those true yet exaggerated ways.

where is my sunset?
i've only got the thunder
and airplane noises overhead
where the fuck did someone hide
the lovely kids who are
SUPPOSED to be falling
head over heels in love with me?
friday night i was slightly part of this conversation
about who weird it was
to think about some bo(d)y out somewhere
having a crush on you
and no joke, kids, there is no one for me
no no not even any creepy freshmen
the only guys i ever see are either
too busy hating me
dating my friends
strictly platonic
gay
so i would be fucked
if i was only thinking about guys
but by this point
i would take anybody who came along
i am so sick of being the only one
and some of you will say
"oh alanna it's okay you'll find (t)him someday"
but fuck that, i don't believe you anymore
your words are empty
nobody has ever even so much as
had a little crush on me
and that is the honest truth
straight from mother's kitchen
and some of you will say
"oh alanna i'm not dating anyone either"
but hey that is probably your choice
or you at least have had someone interested in you
or you at least have some standards
do not deny it.
katherine, you have a fucking stalker, for god's sake
i DEMAND to be stalked
where the fuck is my high school sweetheart
my maybe baby
my "we're not dating but we might as well be"?
the lights just flickered
to match the thunder + my mood
i think Shakespeare wrote this scene
or maybe the fact that it just started raining again
is a sign from god? (haha)
"oh alanna you are thinking on the right track
like you always have been
keep up the good work!"
very funny.
nice one, god.
well since you're listening
let me not get sad at sweet love songs
just because they can't apply to me
let me not relish in seeing my friends in great relationships
and hearing their romantic stories
how you two are
perfect
so in love
really happy
friends with benefits
obsessed
great... when you're alone together
just having fun
shit. lightning. i've lost my train of thought now
because i have a 50-track mind
i guess it can be seen from far off
a warning before somebody gets too close
just like the pale bald tracks running down my body
my sanity is slipping out through them
and i am running really low right now
especially since it's late saturday night
and you know what that means
yeah that's right girl you go on
and remind yourself
why they don't like you
i guess nobody wants to keep up with
my 50-track mind
my mood swings
my depression
my loud
my obnoxious
my ugly
yeah that's right girl that one is a real esteem booster
well this isn't big enough to kill myself over
(even though i'm in the bathroom -- my official suicide place)
because i can always get cats
plus i'm too hideous for the prostitute route
i don't want to hear you tell me that i am a beautiful human being
and how great + funny i am
and how stupid everyone else is for not seeing it
what the fuck will that do
shut up talking and date me, if i'm so cool
....see?
i told you, muthafucka!
you are empty words!!!

"there's is an important "official announcement" to be made, this saturday night, approximately 7:35......before the beginning of our shorts program, which will include two Do you know where your children are productions.....be there, or be squashed avacado. Seriously, and your whole board should be there. SO DON'T MISS IT ON YOUR LIFE, and, EVERY PERSON YOU KNOW SHOULD BE THERE, because, if they aren't they'll all miss out on a special announcement.



ok"



this is a message from the lovely morgan jon fox. i call on everyone to obey his demands and be at First Congregational Church (1000 S. Cooper) at approximately 7:35 tomorrow night.

media co-op

it was just another friday night
and my party got a little slow
nobody else was available
and it was just 3 people eating oreos
so me + laylee + robin went out on the town
well
down the street anyway

we hung out in the Smart Mart
that those nice koreans own
and even after Sonic
we still don't want to go home
we even tried Texaco
we tried Midtown Foods
and after it all we know
the one thing we have left to do

loitering in the laundromat
loitering in the laundromat
robin's playing mortal kombat
this is where i always wanna be at
just loitering in the laundromat



photo of robin, taken by laylee

hey, you called me bitter
but you can't just call me bitter
and leave without my laughter
so i told you that you don't matter
yr ideas are so outrageous
you think homosexuality is contagious
you have a mind but you don't use it
i don't wanna hear about how you lose it

I TOLD YOU SO
WHY WON'T YOU GO
FUCK UP MY DAY
this is NOT okay
and i will NOT just sit here
and listen to you say
that i'm the mean one
i'm the bitch
success won't have
any part in my mess
so i am evil
i'm unclean
heartless little motherfucking
stone-soul machine

yr a pathelogical liar
i can't trust a thing you say
and even before i found out
i didn't like you anyway
you said you were raped and you bragged about it
well the girls who really were sure don't shout it
go back to the depths from whence you came
oh my god you are so lame!

I TOLD YOU SO
YR IN MY THROES
YR UNDER MY THUMB
cause i am NOT dumb
and i have friends + love
i am NOT numb
so yr the mean one
yr the bitch
yr only as annoying
as a goddamn itch
because i don't care
what you think about me
because.... you know
i "don't care about anything"

i can't pretend to be nice to you even though
yr not the only one thinking what you do
i seem really judgemental according to ted
i think the hardcore has gone to his head
johnny told my friends i'm really "scary"
not that they don't know i am no fucking cherry
i don't need to be the one getting the most love
cuz shit like you filters thru till i get the best love

i come home from the movies
to find the bathroom sink steadily dripping water
and it makes me want to skip the hand-washing this time
as penance for wasting somebody's life source
but then i could end up with hepatitis
so i just stick my hands quickly under the faucet
turning 'slightly wet' into 'clean'
but it's okay because mom bought vanilla cokes and
brownie ice cream yesterday
forced me into a jail called "girls' night in"
and even with me having to be there
and having to gorge myself with cookies and milk
and having to watch a mediocre movie with a hot actor
so that mom can cry and cry like i wish i could
i remember the feeling of august september october
i remember the feeling of connecting with certain people
for maybe five minutes every week day
i remember weekend nights cold and alone
i remember isolation and wondering what everybody i
thought i was close to was doing right then
it's those same thoughts that are killing me now too
you know the ones
"why am i still awake and gulping down caffeine
making my throat lumpy so that i will have an excuse not to talk?
and what am i doing at this hour of the night waiting for somebody
to ring the doorbell or to call my lonely phone number?"
i really am a wishful thinker no matter what i project
and i feel guilty because i am a bad friend
who can't be told what is really going on
and i feel STUPID that i didn't suspect
because i trusted
so instead i just get parts of stories and breadcrumb hints dropped
along the milky way to the murky truth
only i can't tell if i am supposed to take the bait
but it's okay because two days ago i remembered
how beautiful some people are and learned
how beautiful some can be
and us just running through my backyard can create
threads that are stringing us together now
i'll remember it as a couple of hours when we were tied before
i flew with angels in the late sleek night
i loved that she sat in the middle seat so that i had her in my arms
playing with her curls and trying to make her laugh
and i hope her teary eyes dried on the way to getting comfort donuts
i loved him demanding that i hug him so that he could pick me up
and swing me around the driveway
twice
i learn that i am truly a bird and he is my wings
i loved holding her firm by her constant hip handles as the sun creeped out
in her bed i remember every detail that i love about her
i wish i saw her more and i wish we could always talk uninhibited like in the late sleek night
and nights should never end
but it's okay because this morning i woke up to a really loud fly
buzzing around and smashing itself repeatedly into the glass of my window
and since it was just last week when i discovered that they weren't painted closed
i opened one up and it's a real sunday morning
when i can lay there in bed with the wind on my face
and pretend to fall back asleep to the sound of the hoses watering the roses
my little insect friend doesn't realize that he is humming to the wrong window
his little serenade has been for nothing because that one isn't budging
plus there is still love that i had no idea i could contain
i don't think i am big enough to hold it, anyway
no wonder there's no room for me to be someone
i am all full up with how beautiful everything is
i smile with my eyes closed to keep happiness in stock behind my mind
and the bugs are buzzing along

may 4, 8:20-11pm, on and off. may 5, 6:30am, geometry, geography, biology

mark skin yellow to remind me that i am needed
"oh yeah - don't forget to put yourself in this time
don't forget to pack you"
and i think i would've
i forget that kind of thing
and god i do get jealous so easily
i need to step back
from far away the marks don't matter
we are only shadows
not a pile of words tinted by rainbows
not scars or X's or connected dots
but look at us shadows together
you're just going to have to remind me
that to be shadows we're required to have sun
in this darkness i forget
mark sky yellow to remind us that we have light
(and love, and all that, etc)
and we know that
we can't really pretend that we forget
but yeah i did lose sight
and god i do get jealous so easily
you have to forgive me
for the things i don't realize that i do
and my mistakes are just easy to hide
because i have had so much practice
and hey, i love your imperfection
so don't worry
but i'm sorry
i hate that i can't be completely raw truth
i admit it. i am a liar.
devious coniving manipulative evil
like mom always said
and she didn't even really know the whole of it
so raise a glass to mother's instinct
and cheers to imperfection
for now we can simply be shadows together
i need to make it last
and maybe, as long as there is sun, we'll be okay
actually
i really need that
and i need to be okay
i don't know how to function in the dark anymore
and i am going to be so broken
if we break
i guess i should just keep hiding lies
so that you won't see how i have to hide behind them

i walk so lightly that
i realized i'm barely staying on earth
i was stepping on glass shards
without being cut
i want to leave the pieces on the soles of my feet
and i'll walk down to the parking lot across the street
where there's always broken bottles
i will cross the whole place twice
and work up defensive glass feet
glass slipper shields that i will drop at the palace
in the garden
next to the flowers i planted with my own glass hands
green brown blue glass slippers stained red
because i had to keep them on
because i can't let myself lose them for a prince to find
i will be my own prince searching for a foothold on the world
big enough to let me in
small enough to keep me there
i'm floating away lately
i am standing in the backyard digging a hole
still wearing glass
on small feet and like shrapnel in the pale skin of my arms
i am destroying dirt and slicing roots
plunging madly into the land i barely stand on
if i plant myself here in a ground coffin
maybe i will blossom
and mom will come to press the air out of the soil
while i wait patiently
i've been waiting patiently
and all the flowers look so nice
spring fever again
and i swear this spring is the most elemental
and this fever is the most burning
i have a need to be watered in my soil
i need to water myself and the shirt of a friend/lover/stranger
while i can finally cry
and string the tears from my eyes into ropes to the sky
i have a need to see the world through salt and blurry vision
i need to see myself with cleansed eyes
i'm still only a little girl walking on glass shoes
that keep her separate from the world
and if she starts to float aways
she wants friends/lovers/strangers/Charmings to anchor her back down
even if she pricks them as she destroys her slippers
realizing that she is part of everything
her own being shattering the glass wall she put up between herself and them
recognizing love and acceptance as roots reaching towards her
she isn't really part of everything
but she's not completely separate

i forgot just exactly what it was
that i loved about you
but you got up and said
familiar words
and the sound of you
resonating through the room
spitting ideas so fast
i don't know if you knew
what was going through you
but my heart fell off the see-saw again
you were back up there
shining in the pantheon
i held my breath
and your hands were writing the air
to think we were in the same air
to think you kissed the top of my head
to think you called me gorgeous
to think i want pink pants and a tambourine
to think i was invited though i can't be there
to think i still can't find myself in front of you

Concerts are:
-not being able to see over the barricade of tall guys in front of me and my friends helping me push to where i can see
-red x on my hand indicating that i'm a minor and i can't go up to the bar
-a woman wearing a tight white nurse dress clutching her ass with her boyfriend's hand
-covering my own embarrassing body head to toe until i am music head to toe
-a stage cast in glittering fluorescent filtered light shedding smoke to the music
-my thighs touching when i sway
-just bodies and music
-so many people with one connected mind
-intensely quick roadies running out to fix the shit
-the drummer and the bassist singing strong even though they don't have mics
-eyeing the beautiful girl with the nose ring and the beautiful boy with pink hair
-seeing the stage more clearly than the people right next to me even though there's a huge cloud of smoke in between me and the performers
-thinking that the rhythm guitarist just made eye contact with me
-scissorkicks and swing moves and those great jumps that rock bands do
-the musician actually glowing on stage, and that is no metaphor
-remembering that the music comes from people and not photographs, that they wear clothes and have expressions
-falling in love with them for being real and having the strength to make so much sound
-the drum pound pounding right in my head and the guy is practically standing now, he's playing so hard
-finding escape and relief in the mixed smell of cigarettes and pot clinging to my clothes and skin for days after my ears start to work properly again
-a slight reverb in my ear making me think that more people are singing than there are. i think i can hear ghosts.
-touching my neck to hear my own bones vibrating to the hum of the sound and when i scream i feel it bursting through my throat because in here i can be the loudest
-all of my bones shaking with little solid stale water flying down my spine
-learning a new beat from the bass pounding my weak heart and it's trembling with sound
-not just that i want to marry the bassist that got him into my heart. he shattered my pulse and if someone were to check, i'd be pronounced physically unfit
-pumping blood coursing through my whole body and shaking up all my veins and teaching me to dance
-so loud that i can't hear myself think and this is what i have been looking for every time i turned on the stereo or put on headphones
and this is just what i need


help me add more to this list because it isn't long enough and help me fix this because i can't express this very well.

usually i remember trips as
drinking acid
counting 4 dead creatures on the side of the road
trying to convince my family
how good this album is
i will remember this trip because we all
(my grandmother + her son + his 2 daughters)
talked for an hour or so
we covered all the bases
she asked (as usual) if the boys are cute
and she made me tell her all about brock
even though i said over and over that he's just a good friend
she asked (as usual) how school is going
and whether or not we like it
and if the boys are cute
we talked about it all
and she said
--and this is pretty much a direct quote
from an elderly eccentric bible-thumping baptist republican woman--
"it doesn't matter how much money you make
as long as you enjoy what you're doing"
and she told us about how "[grand]Daddy never
made much money but
he did a lot of good for the forest"
i can imagine him young + dashing
with his 50s haircut, cleft chin, and dimples
(minus the wrinkles)
sitting in a tower above thousands of trees
making urgent calls on an ancient rotary telephone
warning the other foresters of a fire brewing
having drinks afterwards with smoky the bear and all the rangers
but he would just have a ginger ale, please, because he's a good christian
and i am so proud of my
elderly eccentric bible-thumping baptist republican grandparents
and i sleep soundly that night
the next day i am sitting on the patio and granny asks
if i've considered going into nursing
because of course i'm a woman, so i can't be a real doctor
and of course i'll meet a nice man when i'm just 21, almost ripe for medical school
but i won't even need to go because we'll get married right off
and i'll pop out a couple great-grandkids for granny
and i'll be able to live off his good money as a nice secure house-wife home-mom
she doesn't even give me time to answer her question
she never really wants an answer when she asks
she would rather just answer this herself
and think that i am living how she wants me to live
of course i can't tell her about
my secularity
my bisexuality
my liberal politics
my loud punk music
my artsy weekend nights
my open-mic open-mind poetry
because of course she doesn't want to know

she automatically thought about what she should be doing now
rather than singing along but
i feel bad because she can't sing along since she doesn't know the words
and i feel bad because i should've taught them to her months ago
so she is concentrating on her work
but i love it when she laughs out loud and whispers words to herself
i love the stars by her eyes almost as much as the stars in her eyes
and the click of her pen and how she had to borrow my headphones
and i wonder if he always wears a pony-tail to sleep
i love the look of him leaning on my pillow
how delicate his eyes are when they're closed
how carefully he took off his glasses
how innocent without the frames to protect him
i feel bad for him having to concentrate on holding them, and the pen
and i feel bad for the sun shining through his lids not letting him rest soundly
i am one leaf on one tree in the whole hilly landscape
with a cookie-cut splintered spine bent
over a yellow stream
i am not ready to dive in
but i keep coming back
and i can't make it clear
but i love the way
the pebbles look when i throw them in
like how i love the shapes on paper
and these specifically look worse than normal
because this is a rough road
but it's not as bad as if we had
to drive sideways on the rocky cliffs beside
he kept asking why i'm smiling
but now we can't see me grinning at him with his eyes closed
he's still carefully barely got his glasses and pen in hand
twisted over his knees beneath his arm under my pillow
his slightly parted lips during the drum solo
and his eyes are really beautiful like this
and now it's just me and dad
sharing nothing but genes and a favorite ani difranco line
but during this time we three have been one being again
and i felt so connected to two people in the dark
three voices strung together with night
three bodies connected by our hands, crushed on all sides
three faces pressed against the wind of our journey
three beings close enough to melt into
one mind singing to the harmony we have found

i'm lost
i had the trip all planned out
i could see the road real clearly
a white path up my arm
splattered with freckles
and i was okay
until i found out where the road came from
it's not supposed to matter where the path started
when you're walking down it
but only where it leads
so look at all the things i thought i'd do
but haha fooled you
this pale road is actually black
and see the twisted skin?
and filthy obtrusive protruding bones who won't keep in their place?
and disgusting blue veins?
and the 20 white horses on a red hill
are something more like 15 rabbits strung with briars
scattered through a metal raspberry patch
and he keeps turning around
to see what i'm doing
and he doesn't look at me
like i look into the mirror
(filthy - disgusted - hate)
but he can't know what i'm hiding
and he can't know all the ugliness
that didn't leak out
he can't tell what ugliness
i keep locked inside

so you cough against the black green board
because you still can't turn around
eyes are always waiting
like they want Something from you
just for existing there
and Something is too hard to swallow
so you just stand around and swallow
air like it is life
that's funny
because it is, you know
it's just oxygen
so it's all you can do to breathe
and skim your bitten-down nails
over a bitter black green sea
and it scratches not any ocean
but your own surface
and waiting for some girl to drop her hanky
for you to rush in
because that's what they said
you just never thought you'd find
some tissue wet and sticky with blood
waiting on your doorstep
and this substitute won't cut it
so you'll just bend like a willow
weeping to the wind
and watch a line of ants crawl by
you see a castle in the sky
and you wonder how to get there
you found some stairs, but made of air
that's funny
because you know it's just oxygen
so it's all you can do to breathe
and step by step
you're going up

and that was you flashing by again
leaning out the window
of your shiny new ride
throwing jagged rose blades
into my tiny new heart
you don't associate with holes so you're
pouring jug after yellow milk jug full
of tipsy lisping songs into a cold soil
i am planted and full
of little wilting dances tinkling full of dew
we're asleep in a box of matches
i'll make the bed for you because
i know you have to hurry
to skirt the wet rain
i know when you get home
you'll be covered in silver dirt
and our world all yellow
like a leaf fell on top
and just crinkled for forever
because we couldn't make it stop
can't kill the veins running down the street
even though we unclogged all the gutters
we had to clear away our own cobwebs
just to get to the brooms
so we just made a huge ordeal of the whole thing
and we can peel away the orange
before it's even peeled
and strip away the red
off every apple core
we'll ship it off in a box of matches
all over the sea
because we like the clean green spring thing bare bean cold sheen shine machine we made look
at it
like i look
at it
look
didn't you want it?
and you can't leave me here like i'm
something old and moldy in the fridge
you can't leave me
i am not bread
you don't associate with wholes
but i'll be halved
without you

she has to apologize
because you are
one damn beautiful flower
and now that she has
gone and mowed over the
whole damn garden
she knows it isn't
what she wanted
she can't get rid
of the feeling that she is
spinning on this merry-go-round
you were pushing her for a while
she was laughing too loudly
now she can't see you anymore
she's still spinning
but everything is
blurring
together
and that blue could be you
but it might be
the sky or
the sea or
someone's jeans
because right now
everything is so
upside down
and the world is just
blurry
and she doesn't want
definite lines
she just wants to know
if that blue is you