i don’t mean to be sad in summer / three months of lemon ice / beach blanket bingo / and late mornings / but happiness for me / is a limited addition candle / not sold in summer / so i find depression lurking / in the shadows of my room / once the light is gone / and in the times / i eat out of habit / not hunger / and now / i go to bed / not wanting to fall asleep / and wake up / wishing i could sleep / i just feel scared / because if i can’t be happy in summer / what is there to say / i can ever be happy again?
my little brother / has elated innocence / over the bullet proof backpacks / asking questions / thinking they are for / battles where good always wins / not to take to school / to protect him / since our own government cannot /he is a little boy / who plays with plastic toy soldiers / because he does not yet know / that the war is now in his classroom / not somewhere else.
i found three three empty cans of shaving cream / underneath the bathroom sink / and i know that you didn’t leave them on purpose / you simply forgot to throw them away / yet still i fight against the feeling / that maybe you are coming back / because just like the pair of socks i found / after doing a thursday laundry load / and the crumbled five dollar bill / stuck in a pen jar / you forgot me / i was left to go through the wash / feeling myself fade after hours of tumbling over myself / experiencing the gradual shrinking because i find it difficult / to love myself / when you couldn’t / and like the cash / i curl up in ordinary places / hiding in plain sight / and i am so disppointed when every face at the door / isn’t yours / because you packed my heart with your ball caps / tucked in the sleeve of your suitcase / and i didn’t have the courage to ask for it back / because i was hoping maybe you would realize / that wherever you go my love follows / until it leads you right back to me / but you are gone / your copy of the sport’s magazine / isn’t on the coffee table anymore / your colgne doesn’t invade my room / and i don’t hear your deep voice singing along to jason brown in the car / because you left / without me
ingrediants: a boy who doesn’t believe in love and a girl who loves everyone
break the boy. make him cruel and hard and shattered. turn him into a man because no boy can be broken that bad. then take the girl and let her love him. let her sacrifice her own happiness for him, because she loves him more than herself.
make the boy want to hurt her, because her life is perfect and his is falling apart. make the boy hurt her, make her curl up into a ball and cradle her heart in two shaking hands.
make the girl forgive him. make her smile through a broken heart and still love him. loving is all she knows how to do. hurting is all he dares to do, because he is all anger and spite. so afraid to love and be loved.
now make the girl turn bitter. make her smile go away and make her sad. the boy is making her sad.
once she is sad, take this sad girl and let her try to love this boy one more time.
but let this boy love someone else. let this boy, find someone just as broken to love. because this broken boy can only offer a little bit of himself, and his new girl can only offer the same.
let the girl finish high school and leave. leave the town, leave the boy. let her leave all that have hurt her. let her leave still sad.
i’m suffocating underneath the weight of sadness that isn’t mine.
you were my biggest heartbreak and no one even knew it
the stone was no barrier
her soul couldn’t break
the tangled yearning of her heart burst free
and swooped from the windows lip
to caress the clouds in the ever width of blue
and twine about the thatch’s peak
a faux yellow to her gold
and she smiled at the ones who claimed
she had never tasted freedom before
(a witch in her own right)