Anthem of bus 4. 11.27.99 ALeKoNA
Sometimes i get so lonely I just want to die.
His eyes are too beautiful.
Especially when he looks at me.
Like he's piercing through me.
It's hard knowing that he knows, but doesnt understand why.
I could never explain that, no matter how much he needed to hear it.
So stupid.
I'm so stupid.
Dumb enough to do it in the first place.
Silly enough to hope for the second.
Foolish enough to wait for the third.
I've had experiences with single eyes in the moonlight before.
How much do I want more?
More than I can explain to anyone.
Even the one who writes words for me like they were my own.
Words cant really describe this one.
Not enough pain and not enough good things.
7 years bad luck, right?
the rude things.
the crude things.
Not enough extremes.
Its all coming out, not over yet bitch!
I wanted to throw my feelings at the empty faces again.
Like I did last time, hoping for a 9mm.
And a little more.
Always unsatisfied, riding on a fourth wave of GUILT.
But the feeling never changes.
Maybe things will change by junior year.
"or not."
Arguments as an excuse for conversation?
It makes me mad.
But she cant really understand why I still feel that way then.
Even though she's been through it too.
Knucklepunch, suckerpunch they're all the same.
I wish i could go back.
Back back.
Backabgackhack.
I couldnt wait long enough could I?
No.
I wonder if he'd hear me cry.
Or if he'd slam the door if he knew the whole story.
The sad part is, it could never be a broken blue screen door.
Dang^era.
Sit and wait for life to drive by again with a shotgun.
Running away like an addict.
Addicted to what?
Anarchy?
Masochistic tendencies?
Wish I had a larousse right now.
I wonder how they'd say 'memoirs.'
would it shimmer and sparkle and glitter in french too?
or would it merely be bland words pounding deaf in the ears of the broken people?
I could use a waterfall and a mudshed about now.
Pissy tough girls keep their tears in the spiky hearts around their neck.
He was right but I would never let anyone know that.
Its a human race annoyance day today.
Speak of the devil, everything is connected.
Oh the irony.
My own rage isnt enough to quake the balcony.
Why do flat empty cornfields scare the shit outta me?
They remind me of myself--.
I never got to tell him how pretty his shoulderblades were.
On the verge of crying everyday.
But I can't, I'm too tough and pissy.
She said my guardian angel was watching me.
It kept me alive during finals, right?
And those words I said are the only thing I remember.
A little gift.
Are toes as pretty as hands are?
Locked together, a constant ratio?
"Or not."
The guy in my dream never came back.
I've dreamed about 'John' before too.
I dream too much.
Bad Habit.
Like the scars on my hands.
And the other ones from the diversity seek and destroyers.
I had to save myself from the pringles can.
I had to save myself that whole summer.
I have to save myself every day.
Sick of saving myself!
Wanting him to save me.
Almost did.
Wish he was my guardian angel.
Maybe my poetry wouldnt be so depressing.
Like the one i kept with me under the white.
The words that I said were so beautiful...
I wonder if he heard them...
it added to the performance, the raw energy.
Like an explosive.
Building slowly and fading away.
Driving into the night.
Away from me.
The one thing i needed to see.
To feel.
My guardian angel.
Where?
Anywhere?
Not here.
Not with me, no arms around me today.
Why couldn't i have gone back?
I needed to stay, to finish, to be there.
And be comforted.
Even though he wouldnt know it.
But I had to walk away.
Symbolically, but still, physically walking.
Past the shattered glass.
Unapproved by those inside.
this is for someone. they dont know who they are, but thats ok.