The Cat and The Crow and The Dove Alone

The Cat, and The Crow,
And The Dove, Alone.
No, I don't know,
And I want to go home.
I'm tired, as I've been
And there's nothing left here
That's worth me at all--
For smile, or for tear.

My only hope has gone,
Leaving misery or fear.
I don't want to die alone,
But there's nothing left here.

The Cat, and The Crow,
And The Dove, Alone
Are suspended in time
In a box that I own.
And The Crow's wooed The Dove
But The Crow will not stay.
His only true calling
Is flying away.

My only hope has gone,
Leaving misery or fear.
I don't want to die alone,
But there's nothing else here.

The Cat, and The Crow,
And The Dove, Alone
Are real and spirit
And unseen being shown.
And The Cat loves the Dove,
But the Dove won't come near.
She must soon fly away
'cos there's nothing else here.

Isn't it funny

That this Blue Diary is green?

I think I meant to change it one day.

I think one day I will.

Way too long

It has been so long since I've thought about updating this thing. I really haven't had a reason to. I have about a billion bloggy type things that I can update when I have something to talk about.

And I haven't written anything in a while. I really don't know why that is.

I just want this to be my profile picture.

Lots of words...

Brothers, where are you?
I love the look of an old,
Abandoned
Room.

Brothers, you left me.
I love the smell of yellow,
It's terrible
Clean.

Brothers, I'm stuck here.
I love how angry I get,
Just to give it all up.
Just to give it all up.

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.
This is the bridge
This is the chorus
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.

Brothers, I'm stuck here.
I love slow-motion
Giving-way to sound
Giving-way to sound.

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.
One for each of you
One for everything
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.
This is the bridge.
This is the chorus.
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.

The Train Driver

You keep odd hours
Like a Metro train driver
I: Conquered my fears
Went down the stairs
Got on the subway
Climbed into the very first car
Just so I could get a glimpse of you
Just so I could get to glance at you
And know that you were really real
I'd heard your voice from time to time
And you seemed very kind.

From behind I knew you could feel me
Peering into your soul
But you didn't lose control
You just kept me directed
Where I needed to be headed.
And you looked back long enough to see
An embarassed, in love me
And you loved me all the same
So don't you dare try to forget
All we claimed we knew.

I only ride the Metro for you.

It's kind of crazy, just a little bit, I guess. But I like it enough. I like it enough to have it memorized now. It's pretty. Think like "I only ride the Metro for you." or, rather, "I only face my fears to get close to you." I dunno. Sweet, charming, romantic, but entirely mad. A girl who's in love with a train driver she's not even sure exists, but, she keeps trying so that one day she'll meet him. And she's certain that all her trying will add up, and he'll love her as well. I dunno what makes me write poetry anymore. It doesn't always fit exactly into the mold of what I feel or experience, only a little, but I like that. It's good.

Oh my!

I feel the world stop,
Move me.
Move me!
They say I'm crazy.
Well I guess that they'd be right
If I were
Just a little closer to the sun
We'd all burn up.

I feel my cold hands,
Touch me.
Touch me!
This silent song is
Way past singing and I can't
Remember
The chorus but you can sing along
And help me learn.

I feel my heart beat
Breathe.
Keep breathing!
Don't you know I've
Always loved that breath it keeps me
Awake all night
And if anyone ever asks just say
"She's in love."

I feel the world stop,
Move me.
Breathe me!
In and out like a liquid
Like a perfume that you can't get
Enough of.
And every clever thing I thought up
I told you first.

That poem doesn't make a lot of sense at all. Probably because it's just a bunch of words that I let stream out. It could be better, but it's not. I wrote it on the spot.

And just like my story

That I guess I should let him read. I'm nearly positive now that I'll blog it! YES! That's it! I'll blog it! Then everyone will know everything exactly, and of Meira's dear Aleksandr, which equates, in real life, to my Chris.

The best and sweetest advice came from Ari. I love Ari. He loved me so calm and sensible that I was the one who forced it known, and I was the one who made him say it. Maybe it was to stroke my ego, or maybe to move it past. Seems like I'm perfect for everyone, and everyone's two steps away from perfect for me. Perfect friends. One perfect love. One perfect.

Ari said, basically, not to worry. Ari didn't push me in any one direction, he was just happy. He said, basically, to let God lead me where I needed to go. He said, basically, everything I already knew. I wish someone would tell me something besides what I already know. But I will say this, Ari said not to worry if I saw things that were not so pleasing, he said to stick in there, basically. Basically, he said to be strong. Ari knows all about being strong, but you'd never guess it from looking at him from the outside. I don't think even he knows quite how strong he is, but he's withstood so many trials and so much pain. He is so amazingly strong. I can't quite explain it. So thianks to Ari.

And I'll tell you who else I love: Chris! Chris is great! He's so talented and amazing! I can't believe, sometimes, the way he loves me. It just begs that you return that love. I always thought that I would marry him. It's funny how lots of little things that I've said, if only to myself, that were things that I'd find in my husband are slowly being revealed in him. But, I'm only 16. That's right! ONLY 16! So I needn't be worried over marriage.

Ah, I feel clean.

I'm Dead Today

I'm dead today,
But you won't notice
As I still look alive.
The colour hasn't left my face yet,
There's a glimmer in my eyes.
I left this world in love,
Feverish and mad,
Scratching at the walls
So as not to cut my skin.
And break my promises to him.

I guess he loved me after all.

I'm going to take you with me.
I'm going to make sure you're good and gone
And I'll come back fulfilled
When you're not breathing, still.

One more glass of lovely wine
I'll drink myself in love tonight
I'll drink myself to death tonight
I'll drink you in and every moment.
I'll lay under the stars tonight
And you'll come kiss my lips
And wake me up.

I feel like some dead poet

NaNoWriMo is for me! Yes indeed! Finally an excuse to get everything out of my head! I'm so bad! I walk around Wal-mart and ideas for a book or something of the sort will come to my head. I'm sure people think I'm crazy watching me walk along, mouthing the words to myself! I'm going to go set up my book blog and make sure it works and all...blah dee blah. Besides that, I'm really confused about my dear, dear friend. I guess I'll need to see him again to know for certain everything! I'm so excited that it will be Nov. 1st soon! I'm so ready to write a book!

A poem

Here's a little poem I wrote while at the community college today. The inspiration was this lovely boy who looked quite like a dear friend of mine. I think I'm going to call it "Did I..." It's not the greatest thing I've ever written, but I wanted it to be seen. Leave comments. :) So, without any further ado:

Did I mention I'm in love?
One more extension of his hand
into my life,
enough to make most wrongs right.

Seven times seventy.
Please forgive me
and stretch out that lovely hand
into my life.

Did I call out your name?
One more confession of my mouth
and blinded eyes,
enough to make me waste my time.

Perfect blue,
perfect like you,
we travel in circles
to perfect our comfort.

Did I show you my scars
and the small marks upon my arm
that, now, only I can see?
But you still tried to protect me.

(I'm close enough to know
all the secrets you've not told.
I'm far enough away
to hear all you've got to say.)

C'mon, let's run away.
I can be who I've always been
again,
again and again.

again,
again and again.

again,
again and again.
Is that enough?

So, there you have it. Sorry it's not better.

...but then...

...but then you could never feel that warmth there by your side. No one's imagination is quite that good, believe me, I've tried. I used to have two blankets on my bed to help me sleep at night. It all started quite by accident. You see, I was cleaning and my thought was "Well, a blanket should go on a bed. I'll just move it to a better place later." But later didn't come for a long while. That extra blanket just stayed beside me; it was asleep like I was soon to be. It took on a life of its own for a while. Like it could breathe, like it could sing me lullabies. But it didn't have hands, and it never woke up. It was in a coma. It was as good as dead.

I blame it all on him. He was so marvelous, and I knew I was in love with him. Just as well as I knew I loved him, I knew, without a doubt he loved me. I spent that summer awake, when I should have been asleep. I spent those years trapped inside his beautiful eyes. And my hands were held for a time. And I dreamed of when I was older and he and I were wed. I was not afraid of the future, because to think on it did not make me face my fear of being alone.

Then winter came. I lived inside of that winter so long. I faced that awful fear. That love I had been so certain of was stripped away. I should have just forgotten it was there in the first place, but how do you forget something that brought such comfort and happiness? Everything I said and did revolved around that love. It was so cold. And I, I was cold too. Silence settled in and robbed me of my smile. I was dead just like his love for me. I was dead just like that blanket.

There is good all around, how fortunate for me. And there is love everywhere. Now I am the criminal, leading that loveless boy on for a time. I am no better than he was. And while my love is real, it is not the brand which he had hoped for. He only loves me because I am a sure thing. He only loves me because I am constantly the same, unchanged.

But one day...I'll be wholy loved and give all the love inside of me in return.

Everything I write sounds the same.

Cold again

"I like the cold"...yes, but not the cold hands screwed upon my arms. They are unheld; it is not right that they're unheld.

"It's beautiful, who is she?"...must be some other. And for a moment, I could have sworn a poem was finally written for me. No, indeed. Why would I be the inspiration for something of such beauty?

"How many hath loved you dear?"...Think on it for a while. I am a thief, though never did I plan to be. But I will say this: I have left no heart broken, and, at least in that, I have done some good. What other good I have done can't be found, as it seems I'm only good at making messes.

"And my heart shall be forever blue"...to match you. Someday someone will be in love with me, and I'll be informed only to get to say, "Oh, my dear! I'm in love with you too!" How sweet would the world be then?

How sweet would the world be if I had my beloved at long last? I grab at the air thinking it will bring him. I pray every night that I'll finally get to meet him. You'd think you'd know, but I don't know.

...am I leading you on?...