cottage thoughts

its bitter
but i dont mind,
you're oh so sweet
i can rest
finally rest
[myheadtuckedunderyourarmicantbreathe]
with honesty.
tears marring my eyes
just slightly
i dont want to let go.
now that i've finally broke free.
i dont want to lose this.
i feel
you feel-
we
this               feels so
         oh so
rare.
like glass- like beach glass
washed and rounded and smoothed
but still fragile
don't drop me
                 you
                  us
                   this


floating
just floating
just existing
my thoughts
dont need a 
trail of bread crumbs
or a string or a path at all
knowledge without thought
thought
you can't trace
content.
its fine
everything is
is
is okay.
you're my inner view
ill make you fly.


such little things
my dad
masked
cutting grass as tall as my knees
three air mattresses staked to lie on.
washing my hair 
hand-me-down-shorts
sprawling out
mosquito coils
air dried clothing you can smell the difference.






ive never had
someone
a boyfriend
as great as you.
im not looking back
for once.
for once its all now and soon and eventually.
how you found me
and why you want(ed) to keep me
escapes me.
me and my messy hair cold nature sarcastic comments vapid mind useless words needy obsessive jealous careless lazy indecisive self.
so why are you holding my hand?
why do you kiss me on the mouth in a way that calls me special and priceless?






my dad is not a cuddly man.
at times he is downright
clausterphobic
but seeing him
hold my tiny mother
while she sleeps
like its both natural and magical
warms my heart
knowing he's so uncomfortable 
even as he tries to hide his grin from me.
they love the shit out of each other.
they make each others eyes sparkle
and getting close to fifty
he'll still reach for her hand
and she fills his days with words
and silly little things.

there must be something wrong here.
i only ever want what i can't have.
why is that?
if i had you would i want you?
sometimes i can't be sure.

because how can i like so many people at once?
but of course
as always
it leads me back to you.
who ive never had.
and maybe never will
so possibly never will get over?
is that who i operate?
i don't know.

but i do know i miss a hand
reassuring
on the small of my back.
or protective arms around my shoulders
or the subtle brushing of hair out of my eyes.
little physical things like that.
i can't stand it when i get them from people
who don't mean anything to me in that way.
because my heart automatically leaps.
and my brain automatically wishes it was your hand
and your personal bubble touching mine

Here Comes The Sun

And I say, it's alright.


What's going on with me? I know I haven't written in a long, long time.


I've been on a few dates with this guy, let's call him...... J.
I can't seem to wrap my head around him.
He's fun and romantic. He makes me laugh. He yells. He's serious. He has both feet on the ground. He holds doors open for me, pulls out chairs.
I like him.
You know that feeling, when you look at someone, and suddenly, you're inexplicably, completely elated?
Yeah. I get that from him.

Love? Love love love love love love love.
Love.
I don't understand that word right now.

Love does not come in a box.
There is no preconspetion.
No constrictions or confides to it.

Love isn't something you can ask for and recieve.
Love can't be given with rules.
Love can't be requested in a size five, canary yellow.

It's not that someone comes to you, with a box
and you open it;
Oh! It's exactly what I wanted!
Look, it highlights the colour of my eyes!

It's not that you can wear it a while, and then pack it up because it doesn't suit you any longer.
Pack it up, and put it back in it's box, and give it away again.
Or store it under your bed, waiting for a cold and rainy day when you need it again.

Love isn't like that.

But while I can tell you with some confidence what love is not,
I cannot tell you exactly what it is.





Though, I'm no longer fearless
I'm no longer reduced to
that shaking sniviling child you had me.
Let me see this clearly;
am I a novelty?
A wild flower that catches your eye,
you pluck and take with you,
until you reach where wild flowers grow rampent? And I am no longer special?
Or, until we reach the city,
where I seem odd and young and foolish and decidedly out of place.
My large hair, changing in your opinion only;
Wild and careless and untamed at first
now is messy and difficult.
It was always all those things.
So discet me, to my smallest parts
and try to know what you are in for.
But once you do, I'll become nothing but
my various bits and pieces.
An arm, a leg
absent minded, loud
a toenail,
sensitive.
What now?

Oh who will teach me to make daisy chains?

I went to Gay Pride on Sunday.
I'm very, very, very sunburnt.
It was great fun.


I don't blog enough, I know.



Once in a while someone walks into your life
and you overlook them for a while.
Then all of a sudden.
"Flash. Bam. Alakazam"
And now,
now,
I look up and see
several somethings different.
I see,
you
different.
I see me. Different.


I've been studying a lot, as I am sure many of you are.
I have plans to go to KP tomorrow, possibly swimming.
Wed I'm going to a blues concert.
Friday is a bonfire.
Saturday is a birthday dinner.
Sunday? More studying (as I will be throughout the entire week)
Monday is my bio exam.
Tuesday is the grad dance.
Wed i'll SLEEP
Thursday I have an almost maybe sorta date?
Friday is my foot's MRI
Saturday is another birthday
Sunday is camp.

Quite the week and a bit in front of me.


Parting wisdom:

STOP
BREATHE
CRY IF YOU MUST