Ris(k)ing

What is this longing rising inside me?

Is it for you,

or simply for what we could be?

The pain

in my chest

g r o w s tighter

as I let the potential

overtake my present.

Do I dare ask for a hug, (more)

though I risk

pushing my imagination too far,

to places it has no right to go,

though I risk

pushing the

line between

this beautiful friendship and the unknown.

You cross my mind

a million times a day.

Well, maybe not a million,

but enough to know

there will be a scar

when I/you leave.

Even now,

leaving has left

a bitter taste

on my tongue,

right next to the cut

from when I bit off

more than I could chew,

and directly behind the burn

from the last time I gulped

before I let this feeling cool.

Do I even know you?

Do you think you know me?

Why am I always rushing this,

five steps ahead in my brain?

Why is this so complicated,

hidden,

unsettling?

But the racing of my heart reminds me why

I’ve been waiting so long for this moment of uncertainty.

And I will wait again,

if you’re not the one

meant to face this moment with me.

Camouflage - A Poem of Low Fashion

Congratulations.

You finally look

like everyone else.

The purpose of you camouflage

escapes me;

especially since you believed them

when they said it would make you

less invisible.

So leave your socks at home

(even if you lose your toes to frostbite).

Forget your pants

but don’t forgo your heels.

Coordinate wisely,

and then cover it all

with a trench

to keep them guessing.

It’s just camouflage anyway.

Owned - A Poem of High Fashion

I wear their brand on my chest

and my underpants.

Even the brand rebels have the brands they represent:

band brands and skater brands,

Chic and Chateau couture.

The Gap between the Garage and the Gucci

grows wider with every year.

Wear them or you're not worthy.

Display your id.

In or out.

But don't ever be caught without,

even on weekends,

in your sweats.

Cause they're watching.

You've been branded.

They own you.

Remnants of a three hour conversation with a friend

Relationships are complicated.

No, obviously we said more than that. So here are the highlights. Actually, I just proved my following point. Guys and girls speak different languages. For example, when I say highlights, most girls probably think hair style. Guys, on the other hand, would think sports. On a deeper level, especially within a relationship (friendship or otherwise), guys and girls usually hear different things even though they're in the same conversation. For example: I (a girl) once said, "We should go watch 300 together," to a guy. What I meant was, "I'm going away for a month and I really want to spend time with you before I leave." What he heard was, "I really want to watch 300." Same words, different message. And we girls blame guys for not interpreting our messages correctly, but we forget that they are simply speaking a different language.

So be careful what you say, and for goodness sake, say what you really mean. There are hearts at stake.

The Insanity continues into the day

Some thoughts from others to set the mood;
And the end of all our exploring
will be to arrive where we started
and know it for the first time.
- T.S. Eliot

I'm afraid I'm stuck in this complacency
and I'm begging you to be my escape.
- Relient K

"Do not arouse or awaken love until it so desires."

- Song of Songs 3:5 (and repeat)

Do not forget in the dark,

What you learned in the light.

- Anonymous (well, obviously someone said it but who that is escapes me)

And now for the piece de resistance:

I want you

untainted by this fog

of humanity.

- Caroline

He wanted to die til he found something/one worth dying for.

Conflicting/Inflicting Voices

I want to be real. You are making me new.

I can't do this on my own. You are my strength.

I am tossed/overwhelmed/bullied by the waves of this world/existence. You are my anchor.

I am dragged down by the weight of my humanity. You are my rescue helicopter.

{I don't like that last line but it means something more}

It's alive!!! But what is existence...

Well, here I am.
Where is that?
Well, that is the question really.

Where am I What am I doing here? What is here?
The question is in the answer. I think.
My grade 11 science teacher would say the answer is twelve.
Somehow I am left unsatisfied.