Again

A part of me wants you to read this. Wants you to know. Get in my mind. But maybe a part of me doesn't because then what? What if I wake up and lose it all?

Where?

And I'm laying awake thinking.
Wondering where we go from here?
What we do.
Asking the questions I don't know the answers to.

Long Enough

Best Sunday ever.
Wake up, smoke up.
Pass out until 6PM.
Forget people don't speak English here.
Try to talk to guy at store in English.
Get lost on the way back home.
One problem.
Coming home and you are not here to let me tell you about it.

Hotbox

I'm starting to realize how completely messed up the whole concept of this program is. It starts by tearing you away from your comfort zone. The people who knew you, whatever description of you that you want to be know, that you play off. Or it detaches you from the reality you know and offers you a place to take it all out. This isn't a program of a go our and volunteer in the community. It's everyone's "Out" as some might say. The excuse placed down to cover up the secret missions of the program. It's someone's rehab. It's a motivation and confidence boaster. It's someone's only hope to make it in the world. But it's sugarcoated so beautifully that until you get under the surface and imprisoned in the center of it all that you then do realize it. You are surrounded by these complete strangers. These blank canvass, ready to be come who they want to be. Showcase the person they have felt inside the whole time but couldn't let be known. They create a completely new meaning of family and the bounds of it. Because these blank canvas are going to become your family. You are tossed down in, at times, feels like a whole different country. A place taking up such a role that you forget to sit down and realize the extremes of it. How you can be living a whole different life. In a room you are quick to realise how out of place you really are. Stuck in a place with different customs, with sayings and mannerisms that will never make sense. They will never feel like the norm, not ever been painted in our brains. Could someone on the outside ever really make there home here without leaving behind everything you thought you knew? There are eyes on you everywhere you go. Like a life-size Where's Waldo game, but instead of Waldo it's like they are searching for the English person in the room. It's not hard, if anyone is staring, whispering in any manner then follow their gaze and sure enough we will all be at the end of it. It takes you back to a time in life where there was no independence. If you wanted something then it had to be asked for by someone else. Words needing to be translated and explained in the pettiest fashion in order to be understood. Dropping letters and blurring together of words. Mono-tone. Misunderstood. And then there are the moments. Moments where you forget where you are, forget you're the elephant in the room. You forget and you live. Live together as broken members of a mismatched family. But it's not long-lived because they rip you apart. Take away your care towards it all. You create these bonds so complicated and intricate that you could never understand it. Unless you are within these walls you could never grasp even the most minute portion of it. These bonds so bizarre on their own because they feel so normal despite being not. So normal that you forget the time having been past and just feel it. Time speeds up. Time crawls by. Days are undefined within the limits of time. Already blocked out in the mind what section of day goes where. A day in the life is like four or more. Placed separately together to form a series of events. The passing by of time where forgot to be put together. You bond. Bond with no limits as to what should be shared. Who should be who. The role naturally takes place. The love you feel, the incomplete feeling when not fully around. Thinking of leaving drives me insane. Spinning around and round. To miss them all or to miss one? They create this family just to shatter it at the end. Willing so easily to retract there statements and erase all the potential progress to be done. Time stands still as the hope drops and the knot untangles. It throws you back into a place that longer fits. With people that once were known but lovers turn to strangers and strangers each way. You are no longer you. The person you were. With no guidance for what to do. Or a hand directed towards the beating heart. The stepping stones are slick. We need to stand up for each other. We need to build our own links in each other's spines. Building up that backbone with our hearts and helping hands. So hard to keep your head up and see through the clouds. See through the tearing apart of the paper bonds. I feel like life was correct to bring me to this place. This situation. Because I was meant to meet these people and become part of their lives. It wouldn't feel this natural and comfortable if it didn't. It can't question my feelings because it's the only thing I know as fact. So you won't understand the connection. You won't understand how close people can become within a month and a half with each other. A month with each other. Even a week with each other. You can try to understand but don't regress. You just won't. Can't. Could never. You can't rebuild this dynamic. The laughter or the heartache. So where do we go? What do we do?

Am I free?

Just spent the past 2 hour high as shit getting my hair dreaded.
What kind of program is this?

I hope you.

All these words, these ways you should be feeling,
But you don't.
So I poison my body grasping to feel something beyond it all.
Something deeper and more meaningful
Poisoning to feel nothing at all.
And you think you know irony?
You know nothing but the empty words
Left behind shells on a glowing screen.
Tricking you into believing you understand.
That you are a part of something.
It's a lie.
But you should be used to those.
Do they still leave a taste in your mouth?
It doubt it.

IOU

Traces of I love you's across skin go unnoticed.
I fell for you long before you fell for me.

Middle Man.

I'm so torn. I wish I had better words to express it but that's all I can come up with. I'm torn because my mind can't make a decision on what it wants. I keep flipping back and forth like day to night and in the end I'm not closer to knowing then when I started. It's like, well... it basically comes down to the past or the future. Which road I want to take and where it will end up. The thing is, I know the past. It's familiar and I know that there's a great possibility of it ending up really bumpy and there's an almost guarantee that it's a dead end. But yet a part of me is willing to take it over and over again regardless of the consciences. And I'm hoping that it's because a part of me know that in the end it's the right choice. Because really, there has to be a reason I keep going back even though I know the history and I know the outcomes. I'm told I need to stop living in the past. To move on and move ahead, because living in the past is no life at all. That the past is the past for a reason. But the future, to me, it's just a big unknown. Yet I'm drawn to it because it's mysterious. Because I don't know what will happen. There's the possibility that the past lacks and if anything that's the greatest lure. Not knowing what will happen opens the door to almost anything. So which road to take? What if I make the wrong choice and I end up somewhere stranded in the middle? What am I willing to risk? Is there any gain better off then the loss? And truth is, I don't know. Even after writing this all down I still don't know. Because either way I'm missing out, and it's always me. Stuck in the middle.

You

Lost in translation.
That's what she said,
As the words cascaded out her mouth
And lingered delicately in the air.

Young One.

What do I want anymore?
Maybe I don't know. Maybe I don't even know who I am anymore.
Because I'm changing and I don't even know if I like it.

Go on.

I want to wash my hair so I can remember.

Are you still mad?

Why can't I just get over you?
Why do you keep coming back to my life over and over again?
I get to the point where it feels like I can keep the past in the past and there you are again.
It still feels like cheating. I don't think it ever didn't.
It's your face.
Your stupid crooked smile.
Your freckles that I still find so adorable.
Your scruffy face.
Just, your face. In the back of my mind telling me that it's wrong.
That a piece of you, even just a fragment of you still is part of me.
That a part of me still belongs to you.
And I can't pinpoint why.
Why I feel this way and can't let go.
Why can't I let go of you? Tell me that?
Because I know at least a tiny part of you feels that same way too.