Cavca

Some Help for Any Guy Who Has the Unsettling Misfortune of Dating Me I know I'm conflicting. I can't help it. You may say it's cause I'm female. It's not. It's because I'm scared and confused, because I'm slowly realizing that I've never known who I am. It's because I'm human. And if it bothers you, I'm sorry, but I only know one way to live. I want to be and feel beautiful, but at the same time, I want to be loved for my mind. I want to be able to be a girl, but I also want to be one of the guys. I want to feel passionate about someone, but nothing compares to being held by someone I care about. I want to be the lover and the friend, and i

Her name is written across my notebook, scribbled long ago, before the end of what was great, before we fell apart, scattered to the corners because looking at each others' faces reminded us of her. Her. Her name, hidden between the pages, next to the Civil War and last minute Chem notes, finds my eyes and I hear my breath catch in a sob before I push it back, deep into the labyrinth of forgotten thought. Her name is written across my notebook, a scar upon my chest I can't quite see but never seems to heal, voices, faces, scenes of life and memory refusing not to play. And the blood. Oh the blood and the screech of whinin

This plant is a perfect example of our relationship. You gave it to me on the first anniversary of the day we became a couple. Through the years, it has continued to stand as it always has, pink fabric flowers that never bloom, never grow and green plastic stems, fabric leaves that never change, never alter from their baser design. As we aged, as I grew and required more from life than just plastic flowers that didn’t change, couldn’t change but always remained the same, the song of our love began to fade; the sunshine grew grey and dim. And finally, in one instant, the pot that held us together shattered, the plant uprooting itsel

You were never easy to define. One moment the epitome of the word jackass, the next sweeter than I could have expected. And I never knew quite what to think of you even as you became predictable as the snow. I ignored my friends when they told me that you were no good. And part of me knew they were right. Part of me knew that this would all end in a heartache; one I never thought I was strong enough to overcome. But time changes us. Time changed who I thought you were and soon, I couldn’t help but look at you with stars in my eyes even as you gave me reason time and again not to. And I went through a lot for what I thought w

A stone’s throw away the new from the old, the 20s and the millennial children playing among the art of the past. The moon rises above those claiming to be of open mind but are just as stuck up and pompous as the rest of us who have a dream to become more than what we were born to. Hippies who kept the drugs and lost the cause, spouting on about new-age medicine and corporate America, unwilling to do what is necessary to change, content to simply wait for things to happen. The old world is left behind and beauty is replaced with modern convenience, those who swore to protect it falling to the wayside, blitzed out of thei

She’s always smiling, upbeat, cheerful with never a depressing thought. She walks in dance steps, humming sweetly with a skip in her step  and a swirl in her skirt, this fair-weather friend of mine. We talk of literature and poetry, of classes and cute animals. We talk of starry skies and ice cream of boys we like and history, this fair-weather friend of mine. Her voice compared to those of heaven, she serenades those who stop to listen as I sing backup in the park, this fair-weather friend of mine. We’ll go to movies, play card games, and visit playgrounds late at night. We’ll babysit and garden, go shopping

Waking up with morning’s first glow as sunlight gently caresses your shoulder and birds call to each other through the dawning fog. Still groggy as you travel back from slumber where your dreams were sweet, you turn, all your senses reaching out for any trace of him. So sure that he was there, that he belonged there, next to you that for a moment you feel your heart break, scream out in sorrow that he’s not. But do not mourn for me, for the fact that I don’t lay beside you. Rejoice that you have someone to miss and know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I will return to you.

The storm howls outside, wind furiously growling as it demands entrance to our domain. But the windows are shut and we are safe indoors. No wild car race down the back alleys, no sword fighting on the porch, no camping trips the wilderness of suburbia. No. We are safe inside. The prickling of my skin calls to the rain, yearning for its cold embrace, to run with the wind, dancing to nature’s strobe light, keeping beat with the thunder. But no. We are inside, safe and sound. I want to climb up on the roof to catch a glimpse of the swirling clouds as they darken and form their magnificent funnel, ignoring the sirens mea

I miss when things were good. And see, that’s the funny thing because things were never good all at once. I miss pieces of time. I miss people being who I thought they were because I haven’t changed. Or maybe I did. Maybe I’ve become so broken that I can’t tell the difference anymore. But I hate that no one gets along like they should. I hate that it’s become a struggle to stay friends with people we never thought we could live without. And I hate watching you walk away. I hate feeling like I’m the only one who sees anything, feels anything, and that I have to act animatronic. I’m sick of the walls w