a mess of unfinished thoughts

 somewhere along this tumultuous path of life -                  teenagerhood, school, music and dresses i found girls. my girls. 15 years down the line i know i'll see, smiles and hugs waiting for me -  donna and the dynamos, but instead its me and my girls.  if only i could hold their hands and balance on a pole - fear would be non existent  for my falling may be inevitable but them catching me is even more so.     tears and girlhood and messy laughter  squealing and handshakes and talks.  they're the eraser to my mistakes: the sprinkles to my ice cream. "but i won't feel blue,  like i always do,  cus somewhere in the crowd there's you." my heart may swell and expand and burst out of my chest  if i ever went so far to discuss the extent of my love for them.  jumping on a stage, the thread on the back of my blouse coming loose and you caught it in a second.  "don't worry, ...

 maybe god has erased every other person       maybe im the only one left, it surely feels that way. may i please have a friend again? may i please not feel like an apocalyptic soul? may i please  feel belonged again? may i-                           (you're asking too much) to do: write 1500 words of the essay  finish the bio chapter put ink in all the blue pens start working on your resume find yourself   (i don't have time) drink 8 hours of water a day someone, please help me  the loop strangles me, its firm grip ever-strong.  i can physically feel the chaos - wash over me like waves i didn't anticipate would be so strong. everyone's been saying this year would be tough, and i need to be tougher, but how do i compete with bedrock and screws? how do i go head-to-head with diamond and expect it to break? the doctor will look down in horror at my rotting brain, so full...

i organised my life.  categories, shelves, containers, boxes, bottles, blocks, tables, diaries, drawers.  and yet chaos strives.  brings with it leftover assignments, tests, homework, deadlines, and headaches. as much as i try i cannot organise myself into working, i cannot timetable myself into fulfilling deadlines, i cannot set alarms that make me understand my coursework.  i cannot box my frustration and set it apart to calmly throw and never look back. there's only so much an ever-growing to-do list can do. remind, push, chide.  even to-do lists give up. this year ill set goals. this year ill follow them through. this year ill work hard. this year ill prove myself. this year i may give up. this year i may put it aside again. this year will be like the others. this year i will breakdown because i cannot cope, because i took up too much, because-                               ...

im a land creature under the ocean waters g a s p i n g                    for oxygen? (anything that keeps me breathing).  (attention is my air, life, body, mind) my heart and soul crave a message, a smile, a nod, a hi                                                                                      like it craves blood. survival is of the essence and i fear i may die without it. my nicotine, my sugar, my music, my religion,  i soak up the limelight (while secretly hating every part of me that shines in the focused torch.) i beg and i pray as      silently     as i can crystal clear in my actions that my payment could just be an indicator that you think of me. and suddenly you've paid in ...

 i can blush? im allowed to? it is too early too late too simultaneous for me to feel this way i feel like smiling but my happiness should not be worth on a tiny little 11-word message about an incident that went down over 3 years ago and i know nothing will blossom out of this 2 hour interaction with a person I've known since 2013 but the things we shared are not something i can just forget and leave behind a birthday wish here, a random glimpse there the 2 sides of my mind grapple -  best friends, enemies (lovers? no, hope is a dangerous thing.) why is it that unfinished business hurts more than a deal gone wrong?

 time.   nonlinear, everflowing too fast too slow too much but not enough. slipping through my fingers, dripping like water from a leak in a bucket. stuck in one place, honey in a jar.  time. 2 days ago, 13 with a scared smile, 1000 years ago, 13 with a fear of turning 14.  this girl did not know, life. time. love. friendships.  she has no idea of the rollercoaster she would ride.  a deathly fear of rollercoasters did nothing to help.  adult. (a year and a half away.) a tear collects, by the time it is halfway down my cheek i am 21.  existing, a stage; interpretive dancing through life. i consist of her, she is yet to be me. we exist independent, boundless in our own universes.  i look after her now, a small girl to protect. she wouldn't believe what i (she) did. a dream fulfilled, a life lived.  but time marches on. i stare at the mirror phases of life clicking through like photos in my gallery. 1. 3. 6? no 7. 13. and suddenly 17 l...

  What do I do with my leftover love? I still know someones very first crush Someone's favorite drink The date of death of someones dog Their favorite song from fifth grade How proud they were of themselves when they learnt to do their own hair Their favorite subject back then or Why they want to become an engineer. I can still hear their laugh, the way they would say a word. I can walk around their house blindfolded, Even though I haven't been in years. I remember their birthdates and their perfume. Inside jokes long left behind, forlornly forgotten. Im spilling at the edges with too much love to give, old love that used to be reserved for someone else. Without those safety nets, I feel incomplete, exposed. I package the love neatly into boxes, ready to be moved to a new home. Even once it's resettled, I visit its old addresses With its dusty windows and uncut garden. The key doesn't fit anymore and neither does the leftover love.