wakinginto-blog

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you mean it’s not normal to feel entirely disconnected in every life situation and have no sense of permanence?????

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It's almost funny when you think "today is the worst day" and then the next day and the day after are like "LOL NOPE, you wish"

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stuff i do wanna do

write on sticky notes read about people go hiking lay in the sun cuddle fall asleep sleep sleep sleep wake up warm and still snug get a good grade write a good essay remember a lot of vocabulary be validated feel validated validate myself? lol yes clean my room and the entire mod (or more like have time to clean and be ok doing it) talk to people without feeling afraid get really drunk smoke write read poems and listen to poems and write poems without calling them poems make connections—come back and work on them without hating it smile make other people smile feel healthy lay on the floor and do nothing do yoga                                                                                                       kiss eat good food and enjoy it learn about feminism and cultures and animals and people and plants and chemistry stay in bed instead of going to class write watch stuff find a really good movie find a new favorite song learn to sing/play it learn to play ukulele pet cats and dogs hug cats hang out with horses meet a fox read the fantasy novels i loved when i was younger think about them a lot more, and in relation to my life and studies now    find a hickey sit on a park bench sit on a hill, and watch people walking past below sit in a coffee shop, and watch people outside make up dialogues between strangers who can’t hear lay in the grass touch feathers get a massage. or 10. not wear pants all day wear a skirt and feel good about it all day wear a cool shirt and feel good about it all day get in shape paint my nails do stuff with paints feel safe and secure and appreciated and pretty calm, not worrying stare at the ceiling stare at yr face jump on a trampoline swing on a swing go down a slide and then roll down a hill play with sand play with play dough/modeling clay play with real clay have time to do things on this list do some of them with someone special feel smart feel proud exhaust myself doing something productive laugh a lot more                                                                                                     good sex lay in a hammock get kissed a lot have my hands played with laugh look at cool color combinations turn into a color for a bit get picked up and swung around spoon for a long time play in a creek watch squirrels and chipmunks pause the clocks. all of the clocks take pictures think about whatever the hell i want to wrap up in blankets and maybe fall asleep stargazing meet extraterrestrial beings go for a long night drive stay in a cabin make a fire bake brownies and hot mulled cider eat pumpkin pie eat lots of whipped cream (not very sweet tho, so like the kind you make from whipping cream) smell nice things and pungent aromas believe in magic

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You are real

you are as real as the grass outside. you are as valid as the rain falling.

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8.21.13

I want to look at my life someday and see all of the hurt, and the joyous moments and memories, woven into a a beautiful patchwork. Using all the sadness, the grief, the happy, and the most okay moments, like a conglomeration of different exposures and fading changing lights. I want to know I never needed to question my strength, because as long as I am breathing I am invincible to myself. I want to look at something so wonderful it hurts, that makes all of the heartache, grief, hopelessness, frustration, and regret all worth while. And I want to be so, so glad, that I stuck it out, that I forced myself to keep breathing even when I could barely believe in my lungs. Someday, I want to be so much more than the “ok” I am reaching for right now.

And I want you, I want you to stay here with me, so that you can see this too.

szv

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My insides are a fiery dragon, question in the heat of her own flames When you touch them

Slowly, she is blinking her eyes my stomach is churning

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Happiness runs like water

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3.31.14

If my heart is a flower, it is a blind flower It’s petals cannot see the center it is crying to hold It knows to close when it storms—or it tries to

If my heart was a flower it would be a flower with a quint

Afraid of the falling rain

Yearning to touch it drink it, soak it up

If my heart was a flower/ it would be waving to the wind, bored for a time Content to grow into the soil Exploring But the petals are lonely The stem tendrils searching For a tree to befriend Or another flower to wrap around And through Holes where cold wind blows

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3.29

The happiness in my heart doesn’t always reach my face It dies out In the energy expended trying to reach through my mouth To confirm to myself and the world I do smile

I have reason to breath To be happy To feel okay

Nevertheless it is there Sparking in different intervals Now glowing more colors than you could easily imagine Wanting to overflow Frantically sweeping away shadows Back into the dark

And that is why I am here Why I keep breathing Crying to empty out the lonely dust Hiking, trudging, and slipping down (anxious) mountains Writing To understand My own galaxies Fathom To sing a song which is not yet mine Night after night Into this starry sky

s.z.v

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3.22.13 My heart is a fickle thing Throwing itself about It falls somewhat easily, once we are well aquatinted Sometimes, should friendship burst, My heart falls in the worst Way possibly For irises dancing over sunlit water

When the happiest days of my life, Sunshine and genetics falling, swirling, intertwining perfectly (Or so it seems) Are spent laughing, I convince myself to want nothing more To see adoration of the highest sense as only lovely friendship

For that is what makes life enjoyable It is wonderful And I would miss it dearly

s.z.v

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Character shoes and skirt

3/5/13 Character shoes and a skirt, if you please Character shoes for all girls, pirates, police What would androgyny be to you? A plastic bag and messy locks? Unevenly cut?

Well I’ve got the uneven… Character shoes for all girls Make it harder to run Like they actually wore those in the 16th century Like anyone could tell from the audience

You like the idea of separation Eyes unwavering as I undress Roaming the hall as the boys change under certain duress

Maybe I’m playing a girl

Maybe you would never dream of dreaming of androgyny—once in a while—a smashing laddy in my royal garb and choppy hair Short and spunky kinder than you could ever be So tied up In your life

But character shoes for both acts? I am happy to don them for 1 act; and dismiss them with that awful dress, with ladylike manners

I am a pirate, Stealthy Grungy Twirling Cunning Pounding and sliding my small, sturdy feet across the worn stage

Jazz shoes

Jazz shoes

Slide

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12.20.12

I tried to think a poem I could not see I tried to look at pictures of us Our friendship couldn’t comfort I know in my bones we are closely sown-brothers for life So why do I cry like I broke up with someone after years Why can’t I stop from starting Every time my eyes almost harden I love you, (redacted), you are the twin I never had. I love you like the flowers yellower than your front porch and whispering sprigs -delicate, holding into the winter’s warmth Afraid to venture forth into rains and monsoons Beyond which the most gorgeous sunsets lurk Like my favorite teddy bear, Worn comfort imprinted over time I can’t stop a part of me wanting to love you Because my heart thinks it fits Like a mother bird’s head into her mate’s fluffy neck And roses to their petals Or young think they love their idols. If time to me should follow histories, I should soon be back in the swing of things. But for now. Bend not, or break your own sorrow For which I cannot remedy I could dance a waltz, tripping for laughter Pick a flower to stow behind your ear Bake brownies and eat the most And fall asleep, wishing good dreams into your hair from the tip of my finger where it rests Please don’t hurt for both of us, too

s.z.v

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My heart will always open to let a few good things pass

I cannot stay safe forever

I wonder this time how far it’s gone

Maybe this is happiness The back of my head is watching people watching their love retreat With too many heartbeats to make up

s.z.v

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Rich Soil Dark Flowers Roots Barren Capable Can You

s.z.v

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I always think I'll grow out of crying alone on my bed with the lights on when I should be sleeping

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I’m writing nonexistent poetry on my phone Exasperated apathy in a dark corner of ‘my bed’ I wish everything was as colorful and absorbing as the pants I have been wearing for too long I wish I could get away with not washing things forever I wish the fat would leave my stomach Or I liked exercising Fuck There are so many good things but I want to curl up under my blue sheet and sleep until may And then sleep some more Work is not glorious And the results are not as glorious as people promise they will always be I’m too shy                                                                                                      is getting up really worth it? Maybe it is because moving reminds me that I am alive and sometimes I can’t remember why that is so great I can’t feel the yearning excitement that I have felt knowing that I will squeeze other human flesh soon Will I still feel the same way? It’s like facing a thick plane of glass, distorting stuff on the other side that vague memories promise me are good enough to live for Promise that I will remember what “good” feels like Because it has become mundane in the passing words thrown to assure others that I am fine Or when I am fine But not good enough Grey is hard Hard to recognize Hard to re-conceptualize Hard to shape into meaning when paint brushes are hidden and I don’t remember how to paint Most of the time, I am convinced I cannot paint and I will never learn to consistently feel the pull of exhilaration as I craft sold strokes behind me, changing colors smoothy Maybe I get lost in the changing colors, leaving to rinse the brush and bring it back encased in new brightness Or maybe I decide without realizing,                                                             I will not even try to get back I still don't see a point

s.z.v