*DISCLAIMER: This blog is 100% truth except for the parts I made up

Monday, June 24, 2013

Throwback to March 22: Nothing says late 18th century gothic novel like a pair of purple bell bottoms.

I found this on my kumquats blog and decided I wanted it here as well.  So, enjoy.

I don't know who I am, or rather, who I was.  Or rather, who I was doesn't know who I am and who I am doesn't know who I will be or who I hope to be or who I need to become.

I've have so much inside me and now it's almost over and it's starting to leak out.  Do you remember when we started?  Do you remember when I was innocent and afraid and Maddiey was judgmental and insecure and Brynn curled her hair everyday?  Now I've been kissed too much and Maddiey has found her voice and Brynn is still beyond words.  You always were a hard one to put on paper. 

It's only 10:00 but I feel like it's almost morning and I wish the house were dark and quiet like Christmas eve or when you sneak back into the house after a midnight stroll. 

Catch me I'm falling, watch me I'm flying.

Grand theft poetry and Mr. Nelson changed my life even though we've never said two words to each other.  I never did tell him that I found the perfect pen.

I hate endings.  Always have.  I hated giving back those t-shirts and unpacking from Girls Camp made me cry.  And this creek will always be ours but it never really belonged to us.  Someday my locker won't open for me and I'll forget where Mr. Smith keeps his ibuprofen and Styrofoam cups.  Empty chairs, empty tables, empty hands, empty water bottles, empty eyes with no more tears to cry.

But Stephen's blood with always stain the barricade and Jacob's hair will still be hanging in Smith's office window. 

When Itzel died I cried like a baby even though I never knew her.  Is she upset that I cried for her when I had no right?  I think I would just be happy that someone cared enough about my friends to be sad with them when I was gone.

I got this beat, this beat, this beat it's bass to bass.  I got this beat this beat this beat, it's bass to bass, it's bass to bass.

Where have I been all my life?  The world is waiting.


Brynnie said...

Throwback? I like that. It sounds like a dani-dance move. You write like a dancer. Do you dance?

I love this. Especially the part about Itzel and Girls Camp.

Aimee said...

you are seriously amazing. I LOVE your writing so much. LOVE!!!!