Springdresses: obscurity is not the cure.

some days
it would slowly

climb in through the opened windows
in this dark house you used to live in

with the crawling ivy
up and down the brick walls

like dementia patients
sitting upon stone boulders.

other days
it stood waiting

outside your closed door
and hummed a sad song as it waited.

i would always be that song,
i understood that

i understood that
i would always be that song.

but one day
it never came

it never climbed again
or waited or hummed

and the light turned off
within your house

for a long, long time
and the song was forgotten.

but somehow
even after all these terrible years

awful, stupid, horrific
years

after all the torture, the strings, the terrifying silence
you still remembered how

it would hold you as
a candle held its flame

and whisper your promise to me
only when i was asleep.

it had no beginning,
no end

an infinite
definitive

sequence
that could not be explained.

you could not explain it
and it did not come back

to explain itself
to you.

i understood that
no one would ever sing that song again.

no one would ever sing that song again,
i understood that.

[a/n: c'est le mienne! i haven't written anything new (or good) so here's a poem i wrote a couple months back.]

Old Navy shirt, Garage acidwash jeans, Sirens heartnecklace, mom's leather jacket (i know.. i really need to go and buy my own = =)

Oh, MERDE -- tomorrow is school once again. Great. I really hate the first day back. I'm going to have such trouble trying to sleep early, and waking up at 6 am! I slept at 5 am last night (erm, morning)! Well, at least I've got my Hamlet essay done, and most of my Bio study guide. But I haven't even begun to tackle the French questions. I hope Mme Sinclair forgets about it... She forgets a lot of things. Once, she lost half the class's tests and their scores too.