Will I See the Sun

Will I see the sun,
Rising above that golden horizon,
Or will my back be turned,
Favoring a man-made shine?
Will I hear the chirps of the birds,
Nature's wake-up call,
Or will my slumber be startled
By clicking metal machines?
Will I smell the roses,
As they bud in the damp April air,
Or will my lungs be filled
With the smog of a concrete jungle?
Will I taste the fresh berries,
Grown in woods nearby,
Or will my mouth be stained
By the flavors of synthetic chemicals?
Will I feel the soft grass underfoot,
The kind that only grows in these parts,
Or will my feet be cut open,
By broken glass and jagged asphalt?
Will I live for my dreams,
Those entwined in the fabric of my being,
Or will I follow the beaten path,
Walked by the fearful and uninspired?
Will I wait for those lips,
That I know fit so perfectly with mine,
Or will I continue to meet with other faces,
Trying to tell myself they're anything like yours?


I wish I knew the words that would bring you here,
Right by my side, maybe even tonight
And I wish knowing what I know would be easier,
But I'm impatient, and a little masochistic, 
So no matter how much my muscles hurt,
I will never drop this weight, 
I might even smile, laugh at the pain,
Self-inflicted but universally present.
My strength comes from knowing it's temporary
Unlike me and you, which I honestly think and feel will last forever,
In some form or another, but the state of matter doesn't matter,
Only it's composition.
I put so much effort into lying to myself
And it hurt, like a joint overextended, 
It was so unnatural. 
I can't do that.
I won't fight what has been put in front of me,
By what some might call an angel.
I always thought I was looking, searching,
But I didn't know for what,
And now I do, 
But it's funny because I found you by accident,
Or maybe it was coincidence, fate, destiny.
Another funny thing is that there's only one you,
And there's only one me.
So anyone who thinks they know how we feel,
Is lying, or impossibly ignorant,
I kind of pity them because what we have is amazing,
Completely irreplaceable, immortal,
And if people caught even a glimpse, 
Oh, they'd be jealous.
I can't call it "love" because everyone else uses that word,
To describe whatever it is they have,
Which can't hold a candle to what we share.
We're so much more than that word can do justice for.
Sometimes I forget
But you remind me
That I am
Good
Worthy
Deserving
Capable
Smart
Strong
Maybe even
Beautiful. 

       You're stuck in my mind, all the time

A Break

It's Spring Break, but I'd rather call it Spring Build.

I got the job, at the hospital. Eight hours a week that I keep having to tell myself are paid.  I've only been working a few days, but it's already great and I can see it will be a worthwhile experience. Those smiles, wow, that's what I live for.  My future lies in those walls..maybe not the specific ones I roam now as an underling, but what they represent, like the chambers of my heart, methodically working like a system, never missing a beat. I want to be an erythrocyte, moving to where I'm needed, bringing vital nutrients to deoxygenated tissue. Or perhaps a thrombocyte would be more appropriate, stitching up the wounds where they occur.


I'm building a bridge for physics class. It looks good on paper, but I feel once it's all glued together in the flesh it'll seem..insufficient. But I'll do the best I can, as I do with most everything else. 

Well, it turns out, contrary to my delicious idealistic belief, not all people are nice, and and not all people are to be trusted, even if they drill in your head for years that they should be. I guess some people legitimately enjoy harming others. It must be an illness, how could that ever be ok? Do you disrespect yourself so much that in order to bring yourself up you have to make everyone around you more miserable than you are? That must be it. Those types of people really get on my nerves, because they ruin things for other normal, warm-blooded humans.  You get hurt, when you assume someone has the best intentions, and you find out you were wrong, then you become blind. You put on a helmet, carry a shield, and you can't tell the difference between your friends and your enemies. Maybe the enemies should be trusted because at least they're honest about their position with you. There just isn't enough time to spend it being dishonest, to hide what should be open to the air, the sun, even the rain. But a scraped knee turns to a scab, which heals eventually too. If a scar forms, then you'll always have that reminder of where you've been and who you have become.  Just because one jagged stone cuts you open doesn't mean you should ever forgo the rocky shores of Yachats. You'll never find your diamond if you don't search through the less-than-desirable pebbles.

You were blind to me, now I'm blind to you

Coaster

I've not written in a while. It's so cathartic, so I return to it once more. 
Like a rollercoaster, I get dragged up to the peak of the ride. Then I hang there, in suspense, a painful anticipation worse than being at the bottom of the hill to begin with. The sky is foggy; goodness knows what inveigled me to board the ride in the first place. What lies beneath? Is it a thrill, awesome, exhilarating? Or is it a bottomless pit, one that I've worked so freaking hard to avoid? "Come on," they said. I ignored them at first, and at second, even third. Relentlessly they prodded me, and I thought that it couldn't be that bad; if misery awaited, they wouldn't have put in that effort to get me to experience it. Why waste so much effort, just to make someone feel horrible? Are there not better uses of the human spirit? In the end though, it was I that stepped on. I pulled down the restraints and buckled the seatbelt. This was my decision. I pray to whatever God-like thing exists out there that it wasn't the wrong one.

Why?

Rails

I looked at the globe, surrounded by a larger sphere with certain star groups on it.  And I thought, "Wow, that's not even close to it. I am so small. We are so small. What do we mean, in the grand scheme of things? Who are we to blow everything up to this great proportion, when we really mean so little? What's the point, in the history of everything, to even make an effort? Success is relative, and what may be accomplished in my school may not be in another, and what may be considered successful may be average in another country, and what about another world? Another solar system?"

Yes, we're definitely small. I am very small, 5'2''. But to each other we are big.  People matter; maybe not in the big scope of things, but we don't see things through such giant eyes. Our eyes are about 2.5in in diameter and that's what we view our world out of, so yeah, we see small things as large. So on this scale we make things matter, like dolls in a dollhouse, pretending our own world is the most important. To us, it is. For this reason, I will never, ever give up. 

I had a long, tiring day, not particularly difficult, but busy. I had very little downtime compared to my usual day. It was a great day, really.  I spoke with my math teacher, who I have a new found respect for, and he reignited my dream of going to Harvard.  No one from this school has gone to Harvard, and that's always been my first choice, my dream school. I gave up on it, because it was too expensive, too prestigious, too big, too whatever; but this algebra teacher reinforced a confidence that had been buried deeper within me than I originally thought. I now have even more reason to excel, to go above and beyond, to stand out and live these last few years to my greatest potential.


I'm fairly certain I got a job at the hospital too..Working in the cafeteria, but it's a job, and it's at a hospital! I couldn't think of a better minimum wage to engage in :) I get to see patients, and maybe, just maybe, help provoke a smile or two. 


In other news, I'm also getting an interview with BBBS, and I really do hope they match me to a Little. I'm a full-time big sister, I might as well share it with another deserving child. My heart is big and there's plenty to give to those who need.

I am strong. I can say no when I need to. I will not be taken advantage of. I know when I need to move on. Holding onto memories of the past, trying to convince myself things will ever be the same, is taking for granted today, and tomorrow. I'm ready to live, not just remember. I don't understand why you try so hard when I've been more than clear; I'm absolutely done. I don't need you, and quite honestly, I don't care if you need me, because you missed your chance.  I kind of hope you regret it for a long time. Goodbye. I foresaw this. Funny. "Today I miss you, tomorrow you miss me. You'll be just another face in the crowd."  Hello, Tomorrow, how have you been?

(Excuse my poor English, I'm quite tired and in a hurry. I just had to get these thoughts down, as raw and uncut as they are.)

 You wont break my armor
I will never surrender