The White Door

The dark shadows of an empty kitchen.
The hum of the fridge.
The muffled thumps of the music just behind the heavy white door.
Its click when you unlocked it
Its creak when you pushed it open
The darkness of it
The wholeness of it
As it led me into where we were months and months ago.
The hair I was trying to pull off of my neck
Your eyes I was trying to pretend I didn't notice
The silence I was desperately hoping would remain.
It didn't.
"I would take back France for you."
Echoing through my head
Like a record on a loop.
Why?
I didn't want to know.
Instead I smiled at that heavy white door
Politely requesting it pull me back out
The click of the lock
The light pouring in
The moving bodies
The sticky air
The desire to leave you behind
(half-hearted)
Trying my best to do so.

The Queen

Once upon a time there was a wide-eyed girl with spiral curls and a nervous tick
and her mother was the queen of the world.
In the girl's eyes, her mother knew everything there was to know.
The queen would answer the girl's questions
seamlessly
effortlessly
and the girl would smile up at her with satisfaction
flaunting the juxtaposed truth and bragging,
"my mom told me so".
Years later, the little girl will sprout
tall and curious.
She will glance down at the Queen and ask,
"are you answers justified?"
and the Queen will shake her head profusely
as if there is no other truth.
But the girl will finally see
the stubborn flecks in her mother's eyes
the ignorance in her tone
and realize that,
maybe the Queen still has a lot of growing up to do.

------------------

After the fight I had with my mother I realized that the words I threw at her were pointless and a complete waste of breath.
I had hung up the phone upset, but satisfied, thinking maybe I had gotten through to her, maybe opened her eyes. I had finally gotten to stand up to her and tell her what I really felt.
But later, once my throat reopened and my eyes had dried, I knew that my mother was only scoffing on the other end of the conversation, thinking of me exclusively as some naive child who has no idea what she's talking about.
She has yet to realize that I'm not a child anymore, but that I've formed my own opinions, beliefs, ideals
separate from her own. I have become an individual and either she has yet to accept that or she just doesn't want to.
My relationship with my parents has always been rocky
but after this I feel a permanent pressure against my ribs
because a gate has been opened
and I've been flooded with the realization of how different we really are
and how that will never change.

I've Experienced My First Healthy Breakup

Seth and I got coffee yesterday afternoon, in between my intense studying and mini panic attacks.
And it was nice. Refreshing.
He was skinnier than I remembered, he looked good.
We sat down and talked for two hours like nothing had changed.
He instantly apologized for everything, and said he had never intended to go to France leaving things with us the way he did. He told me he regretted keeping up so many walls when he was with me, refusing to let me in, and he said he didn't think I deserved that.
He also said that maybe it was good I had those five months away from him. He said he was glad that I was able to find someone that made me happy and to figure out what I wanted. He even told me that my boyfriend seemed like a really nice guy.
I was so shocked at how forward he was being about the whole thing that I was unsure of what to say first.
As I looked at him from across the table, I could tell that he genuinely meant every word. I saw how much he had changed and how much he had matured. And I smiled because I was glad for him.
I felt more at ease talking to him than ever before, because there were no more barriers between us.

As we reminisced over our relationship, I realized what I completely different person I was back then. Lazy, sloppy, too quiet, making poor health decisions, and unsure of pretty much everything. He and I got together at such a strange time in my life, when I was transitioning into reality, and discovering my ideal self. Seth even commented on how much I've changed, and it felt good that he saw it too. We touched on all of our old topics like religion and politics and general philosophizing and a warm feeling of pride surged over me, because I had finally formed my own strong opinions on everything and could give my input, rather than just let Seth talk at me.

Once we got up to leave, we hugged goodbye and he gave me a friendly smile and told me to take care. It was one chapter of my life that actually felt good to turn the page on, rather than wanting to throw the book across the room.

Self Loathing

My actions serve me with empty compliments on a silver platter

I grab at them, hopeful for the density and meaning they will fill me with

But the words are deceivingly flaky and useless 

They fill me with air and air alone

The more I consume, the more I desire

But I don't care about much anymore

So I eat them up nonetheless

And shrug off the bitter aftertaste 

and the total comprehension and complete understanding that comes with it

and walk around wide-eyed and innocent

as if I don't know exactly what I'm doing.

Release.

I went to Chicago this weekend hoping to get away, but you can't really get away from yourself. It was fun though. I've almost completely convinced myself that I'm going to move to the city for at least a few years once I graduate. I fear that if I don't I'll regret it and wonder why I never gave it a shot.

I've let you down but it's for the best for a while.
There's no way this will get better if I can't have space to breathe. I'm feeling suffocated, gasping for my own air. I've been locked up for the first two months of summer and now that I'm free I need to really be free, free from everything and everyone.

I'm starting to lose my grip on who I've always thought I was. I don't recognize my own actions anymore. I can't quite tell if that's good or bad. I think of my decisions this summer and the things I've lost because of these decisions, and still manage to feel content with my life. A lot of people who I used to consider my friends have slipped away, but it doesn't seem to bother me. Not that I don't care about these people, but because I would rather spend time alone than spend time with people who have become strangers I can no longer relate to.

I've learned that I don't have to have someone to talk to about every aspect of my daily life. Today's society has been raised thinking that it's okay to spew every single thought that passes through their brain. I wish people would realize that the words coming out of their mouths are worthless, that they shouldn't bother when no one really cares. I'm completely content with keeping my daily activities to myself. I vocalize things friends if I feel they're important or interesting, but that's all. Minimalistic conversations. The bare necessities, and that's the way it should be. But I suppose if everyone were that way, the world would be far too boring. I wouldn't have ditzy teenage girls' pointless stories to make fun of. Anyway, I digress.

I've completely let go of religion and the concept of "god" this summer. It's strange to label myself atheist, but I feel as though my entire religious education has been a lie. It feels like I've finally opened my eyes to the truth, and it's refreshing. It feels good to be realistic rather than naive, educated rather than talked at.

I've begun taking my film camera with me everywhere. That and my old, ripped up Kurt Vonnegut paperbacks. It's wonderful to wander around outside snapping pictures and stopping occasionally for water and a chapter. Clears my mind, which is everything to me these days.

we are all fragments of ghosts
ones that have touched us
run their frail fingers over our skin
brushed their lips against ours
sent thoughtful mumbled words through our ears.

so when a new ghost finds us
and grips us by our bones
how do we scrape off the souls
of the old?
they linger with us for a while
as a reminder
that although we're looking into a new pair
of eager eyes
full of sentiment
and ready for warmth
what we're experiencing
isn't new at all.

Summer is better
I'm breathing easier
but I think it's because
I've let go of you
and now that I've realized this mistake
I'm not sure how to feel the same again
It's shallow
It's all shallow to me
Is this something time will cure?