woods

the canyon makes me sick.

not the changing leaves or the snowmelt streams

but all the memories that live there

the nights that brought me to my knees

the drives that taste like ex lovers

the kisses that never lasted long enough to love 

never lasted long enough to love.

it's funny how good memories can turn bad

it funny how the boy I loved all through high school 

decided blonde wasn't his favorite color anymore. 

never did I think I would drown in the snowmelt streams 

or crumble with the falling leaves

but my summer freckles are fading 

and october is approaching too fast.

I'm sorry and I love you

the only way to truly end this year is to be brutally honest.

first of all, I hated senior year. I was never antisocial. until this year hit.

I left school during every lunch trying to escape the loneliness I felt at lone peak.

I experienced things that I really had hoped I would save for college, but sometimes you can't control everything that happens to you.

January was a hard month for me. I'm still adjusting. still learning from it. but it's ok.

this was the first year depression hit me hard. I don't want you to feel bad for me, because it has given me so much empathy for people with severe depression. which is a lot of us.

this was the first year I understood what love is. and what it's like to be without the one you love. the pain can be unbearable at times. I hate loving him when I know how much wrong he has done to me. but being a victim to it doesn't make it any easier either.

this was the first year I really struggled with fitting in at this school. I'm not mormon in a school that's 98% mormon. sometimes you just want to find your people. the ones that you can be completely yourself with. but I always felt the need to put a mask over my self when I entered lone peak. I've never had a problem with mormons. but being a minority really wears on your soul after a long period of time.

but this was the first year that I truly felt loved in a class. I am so grateful for that. I wouldn't have made it through this year at least somewhat sane without paris. thank you everyone.

scar tissue

scar tissue all over your spine
and scar tissue playing over and over in my mind.

purple was going off the deep end
purple was insane,
but sane enough to draw you away.

purple was goodbye.

a.m.

"you have made my life a living hell over the past two weeks"

grabs her waist and throws her on the bed. 

cuts deep.

and he'll yell at her just to make her happy.

make her feel justified. 

1 a.m. screaming and mornings filled with the smell of coffee and arguing about maids. 

when does it end?

after I leave I know I'll still hear them fighting

whether it be in the form of divorce papers

or heartbroken phone calls. 

there were fourth of july's with makeup thrown at the walls

and I ran away

far far away

into the woods as far as my ten year old feet could take me

and I came back with broken ankles and a concrete smile that hasn't been broken for eight years 

and a little bit of pixie dust that I sprinkle over my eyelids every night

in hopes of better days. 

but it's been eight years.

and I'm running out of dust.