asongcanmeaneverything

[asongcanmeaneverything]

our first kiss

maybe the dinosaurs didn't look up in terror in the end perhaps there are things we forget that only the moon and earth remember so when that lonely little asteroid came tumbling down scared of the cold dark alight aflame burning bright with hope a child rushing into parental embrace a lover's reunion at a terminal two affections collided into one love changes everything maybe the dinosaurs welcomed this stranger with open arms all they saw was a weary traveler long lost tired and thirsty and bade the wanderer to wade deep into their endless blue devotion drink, here, have some more it's okay, you can stay here forever we'll lie down in the earth together maybe 65 million years ago the dinosaurs looked up to marvel at a miracle love at first sight our first kiss

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she didn't want you

she didn't want you she wanted someone better she didn’t want to be stuck with some old stick in the mud she didn’t want you she wanted everything that you did but with anyone else kid she didn’t want you she wants to backpack the world and busk in the streets see everything and everyone except for you she doesn’t want to settle down but when she does flaunt the one she gave it all away to it won’t be you she didn’t want to hurt you or taunt you and your few moments in her sun will haunt you I’m so sorry she didn’t want you not now in her primavera no not even when she’s old and gaunt her haggard wont have what she doesn’t want you you you thought she could want you someone should’ve told you but there weren’t enough tarot cards or neon signs magic eight balls altars tithes or gods above that could make her love you she didn’t want to you weren’t poetry-dream-song-enough for her ecstatic glimmery shimmering like light on water dancing it’s not that deep wasn’t meant to be yeah you crossed oceans so you could look into her eyes and now you see and realize these prized soft brown skies are filled with heavens even Dante couldn’t reach she’s not waiting like Beatrice è facile e semplice she didn’t want you she wanted Sunday afternoons park blankets soft and effortless laughter gently tumbling down sheets where nothing matters she wanted to see the world every time she looked in someone's eyes she wanted someone she could always reach deeper into and it's not something you can give or do she was writing her own poetry after all her mother is a florist there’s no flowers she needs indeed there’s no 11:11 dandelion Trevi fountain wishbone birthday cake eye lash or shooting star magic enough to make her love you you you weren’t wrong she wasn’t a mistake she was perfect and and the cruel days ahead aren't named for happy afters they’re ever for accepting she didn’t want you undoubtedly this will daunt you one last time listen she didn’t want you

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Early Pain

Frank Bidart, Half-light: Collected Poems; "End of a Friendship"/ @almostsomewheremaybe / @etteraths / Traci Brimhall, Dear Eros/ @abuzd / Adonis, Celebrating Vague-Clear Things; Celebrating Childhood. Trans. Khaled Mattawa.

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GINA PORTER & RICKY BOWEN HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL: THE MUSICAL: THE SERIES | 2x01 – New Year’s Eve

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[asongcanmeaneverything]

when you were child

you’d take twigs and build a little house. it wasn’t much. you’d pick a nice patch of earth. make a modest box, with a small thatched roof. except on the occasion you had time, you’d fill in the walls, hang a leaf door, finishing it off with dandelion adornments, and before you knew anything, you knew how to build a home. before you could remember, or forgot, you wanted to make something home. and what does that say? what does that say, about you?

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Old habits die in love with the idea they saved you.

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we are all bits and pieces of bits and pieces

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the pain of never knowing who you are the pain of knowing, exactly, who you are

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RICKY & GINA 1.06, “What Team?"

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Nostalgia For The Life We’ll Never Have

I see the perfect park bench and think, that’s where we would’ve spent Sunday mornings. Coffee and bagels. And us. Just us. I see a family on vacation, and a photo album appears in my mind, fully stocked with pictures of roller coasters and beaches, and that same pizza place we (would’ve) stopped at on our way to the grandparents’ house for Christmas. I hear a song and knew we would’ve made it ours. I save relationship memes, just in case. I imagine we sit on the park bench crying, discussing divorce in our forties, and two years later, the bench is removed by the city, but somehow we made it. Now I’m sad over the lost bench we’ll never have. I adjust my attitude in this daydream. I come back to reality changed. Softer, kinder. More daring and willing. This life we’ll never have moves inside of me. Like a memory. I already miss it. It’s never happened, and never will, and it’s already the prequel for whatever will come next. I’m at my job, closing the dining room, and polishing coffee mugs. I’m reminiscing on all the Sunday morning’s we never or would’ve and somehow did spend together. I’m at your gravestone, telling you to hold on. It won’t be long now. Promising you I haven’t forgotten the good old days, and the little bench we loved together. Nothing breaks my heart as much as this life we’ll never have.

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I hate to tell you this

But that thing you’re so convinced doesn’t matter… I hate to break it to you— it does. It all matters. Cause it’s all you, and it’s all them, and it’s all us, and it’s all the magic and love of being alive, and it’s okay that it might fail or hurt, but never for a second believe that lie that it doesn’t matter. It always has and always will.

— what doesn’t grow will rot

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RICKY & GINA IN EVERY EPISODE ✿ 1x09: Opening Night

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Distance III

I think I love her cause she gives life to me. Like a wife to me, or a knife, she fights for me—for us. For the imaginary children I’m not ready to make, but can’t wait to create. We artists, me and her. We’re artists who started as friends, but parted many times. Again, we came back to the canvas to begin painting our love. Two brush strokes… slowly stroking… slowly going in… How can I tell her I’m scared as hell? She found me too late. Too broken. I’m hoping, I’m hoping you’ll pick up the phone, cause I’ve written this poem too many times. Rhymes that only illustrate circles, that leave your head spinning, like you and your girls took one too many shots, and you can’t focus on anything but the moonlight and bedsheets who hold you, but don’t love you. They don’t love you like I do. I do, wanna thank you for all the life you gave me. It’s like you paid me. You fade me off my feet. I’ve always been stand up, but now I stand up for us. Team that. Team tomorrow and forever ever. No Andre but you Badu me. I ain’t dressing different, but everyone can see that voodoo, that you do, has me entranced, baby. Romanced, baby. Enhanced, baby. So I say your name when I’m praying, so God knows it’s real. Eternal love. Dante Inferno love. I-don’t-deserve-you-let-me-earn-you love. Look, pushes come to shoves but my love becomes doves that fly over your head like a halo. You my angel. So smooth. No angles. Yeah, we was tangled at first with no strings, but now my hotline blings every night, and there’s no distance between your voice and my ear. The only thing long is my love and this—shit. Got a little PG-13. I’m sorry, but you know when no one is around I say you’re name, so don’t be running games. I won’t give into the negativity of everything wrong with the world, because you’re everything right to me. Like a wife to me, or a knife, you fight for me. And we fight the distance.

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I remember you gently, and miss you violently. In quick succession, I say your name, and black out.

- some nights it’s the bottle, tonight it’s just you

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RICKY & GINA IN EVERY EPISODE ✿ 1x09: Opening Night