if youre reading this, call me. i don't care what time of day it is or how long after today you read this. i really miss you.

Alice, sweet poor Alice alone on your throne in your palace you drank from that chalice? and you shrank... toward the floor Nobody can see you anymore you fell through the cracks will you ever get back? Now though, that you are so small The world does not seem so big at all Miss Alice, who possibly could save you from this dark cave you've thrown yourself down the black drinking up light and you choke or you drown Who might ever find you? and may I remind you, young Alice This world's blinded to anyone smaller, and each man is taller than all the other men around ...it doesn't seem as if you'll be found How is it there Underland heart keeps time like thunder and lightning up your veins, a flood of blood, and raining light illuminates and erases the pain Everything thats underhand you reach out to grasp all the spaces between the s p a c e s Occupying (or not) the places you thought to be real Its hard to feel when you are gone the world is not Alice, could you come back if you missed earth a lot? its become habit chasing the rabbit falling more off track do you want to be found? or to find your way back? Are you still in the ground, fallen between the cracks? in the particles of light lost in the black shake break take a bite, make it alright Swallow this, A l i c e . . . . take three or four or more and get back to me One makes you tall, the next again small, the third, you'll fall if after you're lucky you'll be able to crawl Do you want to be found? Fight tooth-and-nail to stay around? it doesnt seem to matter what amount because nobody else is keeping count

not only am i still here, but i seem to be the only one. i am a incredible, scattered mess/work of art right now. peaces. i am volunteering at a medical marijuana collective. and still showing my naked body to "men" that don't want to pay. jobs i do and dont want. i'd make a comment about the economy, but that's not really it. everyone in america is here because of war. fuck war and fuck america. i'm sorry, native americans. i'm sorry, god. once i thought that there was no way out. now i think maybe i am out. and everyone else is still in. what i can say for certain is that i've gained 92348 strength, 4072 moxie and 62826 mysticality. follow me.

i wonder what happened to all those people i had forged typed connections with. and if they ever wonder about me. also... what's the deal with myspace? a website full of people determined to remind me when i worked so hard to forget them. it's only people i knew in "real" life trying to invade my computer reality. no thanks

i'm getting myself in trouble. any improvements, really. at least i'm not constantly in trouble. ...the consequences of bad decisions i may or may not have already made. i'm waiting?

now that i've gotten things to slow down to half-pace, i realize that i've still got way too much on my plate. i have no idea how i was doing it, although i'm pretty sure i wasn't really. i can't even sleep because i'm thinking so much. why am i even more stressed out now? because of her. because of him... because of this, that, and whatnot. and whatever. and who knows? and maybe. forget the sandman; my latest bedtime buddy is the whatif monster. anyways. i'm working on it.

almost anyone, almost anywhere else. and i swear i'd almost be happy but i can promise that i'd probably be happier except... what is happiness but a smile? and what is a smile, but an outward appearance content is in a heart and my heart is missing that ingredient infact, it beats at an opposite frequency "malcontent," even. it. beats. either. too. fast. or too. slow. and uneven. and breaks and. shakes. it gives and takes but still, anything. any reason other than this a) and. we'd all be a little less sick to our stomachs b) because. nothing else is ever enough like this could never be

well, that last poem was ultra-crap. i've done bad, but that was probably worse than when i started. i'm tired of christmas, of stripping, of credit cards. of plane flights. i don't want to go to alabama, but i do want to see amanda, badly. i want to go, but i hate planes, i hate packing. i'm just on a rant today, aren't i. down, girl. saw the eight: reindeer monologues. brilliant. too much has gone on to make a short update. i'll try again later. bronchitis blows. as does alliteration. and that last poem.

my body's twisted on the floor soon you won't see it anymore they'll carry it off far away it'll be buried by next friday but first i'll be frozen and cut open and they'll find black lungs as well as black heart they'll find a soul once torn apart they'll find an engine that wouldn't restart

until i completely own the world. that's right, bitches. one week and i'm LEGAL. yes. yes, that's right.

we all fall backwards onto the grass look at the sky the rain looks like glass drops onto our faces cutting our eyes i feel like i've dropped off the face of the earth it means i really don't know how i feel and.i'm.not.qualified to tell you so i'll just run my mouth always talking never saying anything empty words splashing everywhere getting you all wet without meaning well, damn here i go again saying nothing talking lots circles and squares and diamonds when's it gonna end, eh?

in through yours and out of mine bodies moving, dance in time eyes stare outward, all alone each a kingdom for its throne worship the music so freedom rings listen carefully as beauty sings: "follow me to the dungeon and i'll put on a show that will last forever or at least until you go follow me through the forest over the green hills i'll feed you full of music until you've had your fill follow me into the ocean i'll even help you swim trusting the song of a siren trust in my every whim" the touch of song light as a feather grazing across our stolen hearts we dance to keep our hearts together stop too long, they'll fall apart the music grabs harder my heart beats faster if this should stop will end in disaster worshipping their rythm as each note swings from the music's treetops higher, still she sings: "follow me to freedom through the sky to peace where the stars dance in unison or to one song, at least and the song will last forever longer if you want the music notes will run and play forever nonchalant and you could run along with them falling deep in love but still okay to run away and you'll find this all above all we need's a place to fly far away from here we'll leave the earth quite far behind as we fly away from fear." we'll find the trees from which she sings the branches from which her notes swing we'll grab the ropes and go so high that, should we let go, we would fly and we'll fly out through the atmosphere we'll be soaring far from here this place where every dancer's eyes are shrouded in their own disguise and all the ears hear different songs where dancers can't just get along we'll find the place where bodies move to a higher being's groove

this is the hardest thing i've ever done without telling anyone and i did it all on no sleep no counting sheep straight up all night i learned, alright. he taught me things i already knew he said them till my brain was blue suffocated and thoughts couldn't get through so many words with nothing to do a bright lit computer screen instead of inviting just looks mean and void of anything close to real anything that could make me feel make me bleed then make me heal. the sun's coming up up, over, and out it seems like there's a story that it should be about but i think to not think or sit back and not drink just try to not blink focus on the bright light stare while your mind and eyes fight i really should turn away but i need to watch the start of today to discern wrong from right to truly watch a bird's flight this is when it all get's figured out. this is when i decide what about and this meaningless sunrise that's blinding to my eyes and all the words and all the stories all the birds and falls from glory all the grass atop the mud broken glass that's caked in blood i run through my mind till it stops making sense and the little runner finds the inevitable fence that barricades her in the pasture for sometime from now and could last until after "after what?" a question said. replied the answer, "escaping her head"

they're putting me under and i wish they'd put me down i'm tired of being watched and touched and told my skin is two shades darker and my eyes and my hair this needs to be fixed i'm quit by next next thursday. and i'll smoke right up until an hour before. and probably after. my mom bought some weed from the liquor store man. brandon talks like a stoner now, and i want to hit him until he stops. it's scary, watching people slip away, when you weren't watching them before. i miss the way kat was. and jess and anyone else, probably. i miss missing. and knowing what to miss. i really shouldn't . do this. i cling to life and death so tightly grasped in my fists not knowing what to choose i'm so fucking lost right now.where the hell did i go?

i'm doing another bad thing and skipping school. i wish jess hadn't yelled at me. my brain is lesser than it was. i feel infantile, i can't comprehend past a certain point. this point comes about five times more than it did before the pcp. so yeah kids. i'm a statistic... again. brilliant. all i've got going for me is i'm a brilliant writer. and... ha. that's gone now too. fuck it all. strangely, this is one of my good days. although in the grand scale of things, it's shit. my girlparts are having serious problems, i've got a fucking std, i might have cancer, my brain got fried by what i thought was weed but was angel dusted, and i can't fucking think clearly, i'm supposed to be at school but i got a fucking headache for the 2738471293804731892th day in a row. nothing's making fucking sense to me. but, graded on a curve, my day is going well. because all those problems up there have been happening for the last few weeks. the headache, last few years. maybe i need glasses. i really wish all these problems would just go away. but i hate doctors, and what could they possibly do for me? good. jessica just called. i feel better. but still, i need to take my vitamins. and go to the doctors. i need help. someone help me.

it's monday again and i'm homesick for him.

blue eyes melt me more than your words as i fall into bed if i miss your arms my body's screaming feeling you next to me and my mind is anywhere it's not supposed to be don't take it personal this ADD love is the best i've ever had let's go roll down a grassy hill no, wait let's go spin in circles or make out at the park or just lay here all day and kiss and kiss other places and kiss the hours as they fly by the window but that's all the way across the room we'll have to blow the kisses but why would we waste them on time? save all our kisses for eachother i'll stare at you for a few minutes if i look sad, i'll tell you looks are deceiving but we always gave eachother away from the first few moments we bothered to look if i look sad, i am because i know i'll have to blink and what if when my eyes are closed you disappear or die? or what if we both blink at the same time... and never see eachother again? if i look happy? you made me that way. if i look out the window, i want to fly away with the hours (i wonder why they fly when you're next to me but sit when you're gone?) and take you with me but you're too heavy to carry and too big to fit through the holes in the screen eventually we'll crawl out of this bed together maybe crawl into the shower or run to your car where i'll kiss you again and watch you drive waiting for you to look at me squeeze your hand three times if you don't look often enough if i look scared i'm scared to lose you before i manage to lose me if i look anything at all

let's just say... my prom dress is hotter than yours. and unfortunately, will not come off as easily. but it's worth it. GORGEOUS. i'll post pictures when i have some. starting school tomorrow. BLEH! i'm starting to think i didn't give myself enough time to just lounge around and be a kid. no surfing or other such funstuffs. it's alright though. only one year until i move out and never have to wash someone else' (else's?) dishes again. brandon has a nice. nice. nice nicenicenice body. damn. anyways. i haven't written anything of substance in awhile. maybe i'll go work on that. _______________ under the staircase lies a secret if i told you, you'd never believe it but it's true, it's true: (whispers) don't tell anyone what i told you do you see, in that window where sits that young girl for hours she's seated staring out at the world she knows these secrets and she told them to me and they never were what i guessed them to be

take me and break me. fake and shake me. falling under hard like thunder falling under hard like i want to feel you tearing out of yourself and in in into me feel you falling whilst i'm crawling far away into my mind where i'm very hard to find start to stop desires drop i'm so on top of everything i don't hear you scream sex is murder you came and hurt her