where awkward private thoughts become public knowledge.

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I told him that I love him
And he just looked away
I sat there sinking in the silence –
What more could I say?

If I could turn it off I would,
this painful beating heart;
Faltering at a touch or glance
Jumping hard to start.

And so resigned to fate am I,
this trouble that I’m in.
I’d weather every pang and ache
to waste my time with him.


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Jukebox Girl

Push that quarter in, now –
Push it way down deep;
My songs are so ethereal,
But always come dirt cheap.

Someone touch my buttons, now,
Someone make me spin;
I’m that something fun to do
After six shots with your friends.

I’m the kind of thing you remember
Sometime later the next day,
Just some sort of hazy cloud
Of good times in your brain

I go quiet, I sit still,
Sadness in the dark until
Darkness brings them all back in –
Just a quarter, push it in.

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She stared at the intricate designs on the handles of the scissors; tilted her wrist up and down slowly to feel their weight.  Her hand, holding onto them rather loosely, dropped towards her side as she sighed and closed her eyes; the fire popped and crackled.

Sitting on the couch, straight backed and proper even with no one else in the room, she began to brush out her hair.  Her arm moved slowly and she could feel every strand being gently pushed into place by each firm yet motherly bristle.  Now, relaxed and foggy-headed, she once again closed her eyes and allowed her neck to remember the feel of his perfect lips just barely grazing the pale skin on her neck, and the way he’d breathe and it would roll across her skin like fog over the ocean.  The memory snaked up her spine and ended in a chill.

Memories like sparklers shined only for a few moments before losing their light and leaving her suddenly dark and chilled.  Her eyes opened and she focused on her task as she carefully split her hair into three sections and began to braid.

Careful not to leave any loose, she remembered without meaning to the way his fingers would drift through her hair and down to her waist.  He would lean closer and inhale the scent before tilting  her head up for a kiss as he brushed it out of her face. Sometimes he would emerge grinning with a long maple strand of hair clinging to the stubble on his cheek.

In one movement she had the braid finished and the scissors back in her hand.  The braid fell with a gentle thud onto the floor, and looked out of place laying on top of the polished wood.  She watched, dazed, as a few solitary locks drifted lazily down through the air and landed on the floor without much commotion.

In bed, she wore a scarf to keep her newly bare neck warm.  Her head felt light; she panicked, and feeling like she was missing something essential above her, moved her hand in the air above her head and felt nothing but the headboard.

Suddenly tired, she pulled the blankets up over her face and closed her eyes.  She held her clasped hands to her mouth. No sound came out as she prayed.

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Nope, I hate you.

Nope, I hate you.
Wait, I don’t.
Maybe I do, I don’t know.
I know that I hate the way
The absence of you
Makes me feel halfway less whole.

I definitely hate that on every breath
My lips whisper
Before I can hush them, hurried.
But I definitely love that the shape they make
Is so quietly your name,
Butterflies being freed.

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Already breathing heavy at the starting line
Worried I jumped the gun;
Performed the finale before the show,
Cheered before I’d won.

Can you miss someone you don’t even know?
Are some souls meant to connect?
The cynic and lover are warring inside,
Heart versus intellect.

Brain, you’re calling this a mirage,
A beautiful lie, just pretend.
Heart valiantly argues for hope
And letting the feelings in.

But really I’m just a jukebox girl,
Good for a play or two;
Willing to bet my monster inside
Is one that no love can subdue.

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Was that girl in the mirror sad?
She looked so much like me
Then shards of glass flew at my face
With lightning breakneck speed.

Is it just an illusion, my confusion setting in?
I never seem to see the darkness starting from within.

I tried to hold tight to that golden rope
Should have lifted me up with my hopes.
The wind is picking up and I’m getting tired –
If I could climb up to the top
I know I’d make this feeling stop.

At first it made sense to climb
It really seemed worth it this time.
The lights, they’re fading into dim
Just like dusk is setting in.
Why was I so open? all the words I spoke and
The way I let myself let you in.

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I worshiped gold.
My eyes followed the light wherever it went –
Oh, I was mesmerized by the glint of something so precious.
Something that seemed tangible and attainable,
A gleam that made me warm when it shined across my face.
Like sunshine, but richer.
But reaching out to hold a little magic in my hand
Light fell through my fingers like sand,
landed at my feet, dry and dull.
In wanting to hold it I smothered it
And the world seems less like colors and more like blues and greys.