And I know you won't ask me
but I'd say yes every time.
You hide your hands
ashamed of the damage
they could do
but I tell you to go ahead
there's nothing you could do
to me that I haven't already
done to myself.
Once is not enough
I need to love you everyday
to the moon and back
and further
til my eyes are blazing with it.
Don't worry about your own hands
mine can tear you apart
just fine

 

 

(this image is not mine, I couldn't find the original source)

I want to write about things like orange trees and feathers and that moment of darkness within before you can fall asleep and brown shiny seeds and tangled wire and the hopeful look in a dog's eyes before you close the curtain and lock the door and the shapes of clouds and the way a page sometimes falls out of a book unexpectedly and the way weeds can be beautiful and how sometimes chickens pace and pace and pace even though they won't be let out and how sometimes you find cuts and bruises that weren't there before and you don't know how they got there.

Paint the town.

Tonight I fell in love with a boy who let me buy my drink before he did.
Tonight I saw him them waved and told myself that I'd get his name or number before I left.

Tonight a boy hugged me.
'Who are you?' I slurred.
'I love you.' he said.
'That's really nice,' I replied. 'Give me a hug.'
So we hugged again then left.

Tonight I danced with a bearded boy as he spun me around and sung Adele badly.
'What do I do!?' I asked her.
I can't remember what she said but I didn't kiss him.

I kept looking for the boy I fell in love with all night but didn't see him again.

'Who was the guy you were dancing with?' he asked.
'The boy with the beard? I don't know!' I laughed.
'Did you kiss him?'
'No.' I laughed again.

'I hate you.' she said when we had to leave. 'You're not my friend anymore.'
'No you don't.' I said as we left.

(Not even sure what this is. I wrote it a few days ago at 3 a.m. after I had been out for the night haha)

Perry.

It was my mother who decided on naming me Perdita. My father tried to talk her out of it, Jessica sounds nice dear, or how about Emily? But she just smiled at me and shook her head.
And so I became Perdita, but I preferred Perry. My father held onto the notion that once I was old enough I could change my name to whatever I liked. He told me so late one afternoon in May. Now Perry, he said taking both of my hands into his, You know that one day, when you are older and wiser and have seen more of the world, if you still don’t like your name, you can change it to whatever you like. I stared at his wrinkled, calloused hands, covered with an array of scars, going this way and that, they were a map of his life. Really? I asked him, and I looked up as he smiled down at me. Do you promise? I said to him with my chin raised, determination moulding my face into a pair of crinkled eyes and a firm mouth, just daring him to say no.
But he promised. And ever since then I’ve tried to figure out who I could be.


(This is something new. I've been having trouble writing lately, but I am attempting to change that and this is the result.)

I am no longer absent. The words are slowly returning to where they should be and so am I.
My exams finished today, and a typewriter arrived in the mail. My formal is on Friday and I am 18 in two weeks. Everything seems to be falling into place.
I am tired, but content. Things are going to be stressful over the next few days as I also have a few parties and things that need to be done, but hopefully I will cope and everything will turn out fine.
Hopefully I can post more soon.

Broken.

It would be easy to fall apart.
Piece by tiny piece.
And it’s hard to be put back together again once this happens.
Because, like with all puzzles, pieces get lost.
Maybe you’ll never be whole again.

100 Things.

I this my 100th post, so I thought I'd do something different.

10 things about me.
1.  I have curly hair that frustrates me to no end.
2. I mostly only wear odd socks.
3. I like writing more than anything else.
4. I collect notebooks.
5. I read books that make me feel.
6. I have a boyfriend.
7. I like taking photos of things.
8. I've been playing soccer for 7 years.
9. I like collecting quotes.
10. I'm always listening to music.


10 pictures that I found. (on weheartit)

10 Things (more) things.

1. I have been meaning to write a book of letters for my friends and family to read after I die. (Not that I plan on going anytime soon, it's just that you never know what might happen, and I can't leave them with nothing.)
2. I love writing but I don't always think that what I write is good enough. I am starting to learn to love the things I write now. Maybe because I'm learning to write them for me.
3. The other day I realised that sometimes I'm so shy I even breathe quietly.
4. I'm scared. I mean, I'm scared of what could be under my bed, or hiding in the shower, I'm scared of next year because it means making big decisions that I'm not ready enough to make, I'm scared of dying because I don't know what comes next, I'm scared of trying because I could fail, I'm scared of changing because it's different and diffiicult.
5. I always say goodbye when someone leaves - incase something happens.
6. I take everything to heart - everything. So watch what you say because when you say it you may think nothing of it, and you might not notice , but my heart is sinking and my brain will have stored it away to keep reminding me over and over and over again, and my cup will be half empty, so to me you will have meant whatever you said and when I;m upset later, or later that afternoon, or before I go to sleep I will remember and I will think and think and think about it until I don't want to anymore because in the end it will all be too much.
7. I'm not confident. I doubt everything. I always wonder what people mean when they say certain things and I have to ask otherwise it eats away at me. I always need encouragement to do things and to be reassured that whatever I'm doing is ok, that it won't hurt anyone, that 'no you're not a horrible person'. I will never stop doubting.
8. I collect lyrics like a gardener collects flowers. On post-it notes, scrawled in notebooks, and written underneath my desk, I hoard them, saving them up for - I don't even know yet myself. They're mostly sad ones, I like sad things you see.
9. I can't look you in the eye for more than a few seconds without looking away. I just can't. It's nothing against you, just please don't stare.
10. Some days I don't know where I fit in. I feel lost, and find myself wandering, trying to find my place. I don't know if you can have a best friend that you can't tell everything to.


10 Quotes.
1. "Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I'm not living." - Jonathan Safran Foer
2. "I desire the things, that will destroy me in the end." - Sylvia Plath
3. "I can't explain myself, I'm afraid sir," said Alice, "Because I'm not myself, you see." - Lewis Carroll
4. "I want to believe in it all again — in art, fate, and love. And I want to believe that I’ve made the right choice and that I’m on the right path and there’s still time to fix the mistakes I’ve made. And I guess I want hope." - One Tree Hill
5. "You deserve good things, and I want to be one of them." - Impulse, Ellen Hopkins
6. "And even though the world goes on for eons and eons, you are only here for a fraction of a fraction of a second. Most of your time is spent being dead or not yet born. But while alive, you wait in vain, wasting years for a phone call or a letter or a look from someone or something to make it all right. And it never comes or it seems to but doesn't really." - Synecdoche, New York
7. “These are not books, lumps of lifeless paper, but minds alive on the shelves. From each of them goes out its own voice… and just as the touch of a button on our set will fill the room with music, so by taking down one of these volumes and opening it, one can call into range the voice of a man far distant in time and space, and hear him speaking to us, mind to mind, heart to heart.” - Gilbert Highet
8. "I think you could fall in love with anyone if you saw the parts of them that no one else gets to see. Like, if you followed them around invisibly for a day and you saw them crying in their bed at night or singing to themselves as they make a sandwich or just walking along the street. Even if they were really weird and had no friends at school. I think after seeing them at their most vulnerable you wouldn’t be able to help falling in love with them." - Tumblr
9. “And all the books you’ve read have been read by other people. And all the songs you’ve loved have been heard by other people. And that girl that’s pretty to you is pretty to other people. And you know that if you looked at these facts when you were happy, you would feel great because you are describing unity.” - The Perks of Being a Wallflower
10. “These were the lovely bones that had grown around my absence: the connections - sometimes tenuous, sometimes made at great cost, but often magnificent - that happened after I was gone. And I began to see things in a way that let me hold the world without me in it. The events that my death wrought were merely the bones of a body that would become whole at some unpredictable time in the future. The price of what I came to see as this miraculous body had been my life.” - Alice Sebold


10 Things to say.
1. B - Please don't say things like that. It makes me worry and I already worry too much.
2. P -  I hope you're getting better. In some crazy, fucked up way I think she's good for you. I hope it stays that way.
3. S - I know now. And I think I'm beginning to understand why you did it. You can talk to me. I'm your best friend and I want to be able to talk to you about anything and everything. But I can't yet.
4. K - I respect your decision a lot more than theirs. Thankyou for giving me hope.
5. R - I'm sorry I don't know what I'm doing a lot of the time. I'm learning though. But please don't say things like that without having a reason to.
6. J - It's your fault, don't you see? You fuck things up and then don't change. I don't think you'll ever learn from your mistakes. Eventually you'll only have yourself to blame.
7. G - I really do hope you're okay. I worry about you too. You have talent in what you do.
8. D - What will you have left after this? It's too soon to say these things. It's meant to be something special.
9. K - Sometimes I don't know what to say to you. I don't want to encourage you, but they're your decisions to make.
10. Me - You can't avoid it forever. You need to change, she's right about this. Don't stay stagnant because it's easier.

10 Songs I like
1. Everything - A Cursive Memory
2. Gotta Be Somebody's Blues - Jimmy Eat World
3. Lillian Lies - Youth Group
4. Skinny Love - Bon Iver
5. Landslide - Epicure
6. To Be Quite Honest - Cruiserweight
7. Act One, Scene One - The Fall of Troy
8. Anger Is The Brand New Thing - Kisschasy
9. We've Got a Big Mess On Our Hands - The Academy Is...
10. Cut Me, Mick - Yellowcard

10 pictures that I took.

 One of my favourite snacks :)

 Backyard reflections.

 Raindrops on Agapanthas.

 A Sleeping ladybeetle.

 A pretty spider.

 A willow at sunset.

 One of our new baby chickens when it was just over a month old :)

 A flock of birds near sunset.

 A pelican at sunrise.

A wave at one of my favourite places in the world.

10 words I like.

1. Transience

2. Effervescence

3. Ephemeral

4. Ethereal

5. Myriad

6. Murmur

7. Intertwined

8. Silhouette

9. Phosphorescence

10. Aqueous

10 books I love.

1. Paper Towns – john green

2. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close – johnathon safran foer
3. The Perks of being a Wallflower – Stephen chbosky
4. The history of love – Nicole krauss
5. The Messenger - Markus Zusak
6. The noah confessions – Barbara hall
7. The truth about forever – sarah desson
8. The lovely bones – alice sebold
9. The Book Theif - Markus Zusak
10. Before I Die – Jenny Downham


10 Lyrics.
1. Space and time distort the mind.
2. Hear me now, you will never be alone.
3. See all these people, they tell you who you are and who you should be, they've gone too far.
4. I'll leave pieces of paper, pieces of myself along the way.
5. Cuts on paper hearts they can be awful deep.
6. Sing the song they sing, the words you don't mean. When's the last time you looked inside?
7. I stopped trying to write the things I don't like and I started going back to where I'd been before.
8. And for one crowded hour, you were the only one in the room.
9. Is it real, does it give to much away? Is pouring out my heart till you come back a reason to stay, do you know?
10. We made plans to kiss the sun at night.


Sorry this was such a long post. I wanted to make it 100 things for 100 posts, and I'm quite happy that I managed to bring together 100 things. It took a surprising amount of effort and actually took me a week to make in all. Maybe now that you've read this you'll know a little more about me, and maybe you'll understand.

Surface.

I could feel the waves of emotion lapping at my feet again, trying to drag me away but I could not (would not) let them. But they kept on trying, using the smallest memory of how I had once been to try and pull me under, into their cold embrace.

Two letters from forever ago: ‘love forever, Mum xx’, and ‘You will not listen to your conscience anymore. Understood?’

Two books: How To Feel and How To Be Happy.

The guilt:

“Do you remember when we went on a bike ride, back in year six or something, and I was crying?”
“Yeah, you were like “I hate life” and I was like geez, you’re only in year six.”

Lying underneath the waves looking up at the sky, the water seemed to have an almost tangible skin to it, a silver layer that made me feel apart from the rest of the world. It was like I was part of a whole other world beneath the water.

To break the surface was a difficult thing, but it was necessary as we all need to breathe sometimes.

This is my entry to this lovely blog created by the lovely Sanchez.

And my bones will only weigh me down

In this world that we call home.

Picture here

Heart's A Mess.

This photo is one of mine.

Drown.

And they closed the beaches

When that little boy drowned.

And they searched and they searched

But he couldn’t be found.

He left behind a father, a sister and mother

But the saddest of all, he left a twin brother.

They were almost alike in every way

He cried when he didn’t come back and play.

They stopped his crying with just a ‘shush’

He knew (they could tell) when the beach fell a hush.

They carried him up, and onto the sand

That boy that will never become a man.

The father cried, the mother screamed

Things were as bad as they had seemed.

Silence quickly fell among the crowd

His voice; it wasn’t very loud

‘Wake up,’ he said. ‘Wake up Tim,

There’s places that we haven’t been

I’ll grow up, and you will to

There’s many things we planned to do.’

All was quiet, all but one sound

His mother falling to the ground.

Because a piece of her heart broke

With every word her young son spoke.

They took him, placed him in a bag

The father sobbed, his shoulders sagged.

‘Mum, they’re taking him away!’

Stop. Their father tried to say

But all that came out was a silent cry

As they lifted his son’s body high.

 



If I were a kind of weather

I'd be the start of a rainstorm as you lie in bed
and
the kind of rainstorm that makes you run around until you become soaked and happy
and
the sort of rainstorm that makes you curl up for comfort in a warm blanket with a book or movie
and
the type of rainstorm that leaves the smell I like after it evaporates.

You are

beaches

and

bluebottles

and

night time

and

driving

and

rollercoaster roads

and

midnight

and

black water

and

bright lights

and

big rocks

and

ice cream

and

walking

and

secret

and

shooting stars

and

dingoes

and

good morning

and

company

and

comfort

and

the opposite of lonely

and

opera

and

movies

and

one in the morning

and

breakwalls

and

jeans

and

football

and

knees

and

hands

and

orange

Dear You.

I’m sorry that your life’s a mess, and I’m sorry that things don’t work out and I’m sorry that you used to (and still could be, I’ll probably never know) be so sad all the time, and I’m sorry that you can’t find that someone yet (but neither can I, so you’re not alone in being alone ), and I’m sorry that I don’t give you the reaction that you want from me ( I just can’t bring myself to, even though I want to sometimes with my whole being), and I’m sorry that sometimes you feel lost (I seem to feel lost more than others, but maybe it’s because I never tell anyone and neither do they, but I’m working on it I really am can’t you tell? I told you how I felt before when you asked me if I noticed how they were changing even though they said they wouldn’t and I told you I did and that it made me feel lost too and that I didn’t fit in, but when you asked me I didn’t tell you the truth - that you have changed, you’re not the same, you’re different and I couldn’t tell you that because sometimes when people ask for the honest truth and you know that it will hurt them or that they won’t like the answer then it should be ok to tell a lie, to reassure them that no they haven’t changed at all, that they’re still the same person, even if everyone’s changing even if I’ve changed, because really, I have, I could tell you how I’m sad a lot of the time when I’m near the others, because I can feel how different things are and I can feel just how lost things are since they happened, and how I am changing, re orientating myself around them and refocusing the lenses of my eyes to how I see other people, I’m becoming a drifter, floating from place to place trying to figure out where I can place my anchors so that I don’t continue to drift away until I am nothing but a spot in the sky, and I could tell you how I know things won’t be the same, because they could never go back to how they were after everything that’s happened, and I can only remember how they were before everything was turned on it’s side, before the earth began to spin the other way, before that happened because for me, that was what started it all, the butterfly that had the effect on my world) and I’m sorry that I can’t tell you all this because if you want the truth I don’t think you’d know how to handle it and you’d just react the way you know I don’t like and that would put us back to where we were a few weeks ago - not speaking because you didn’t understand - but maybe you did understand, these days I’m just not sure how your brain works - I never was sure - and these days I am less sure than ever.

I wish I could, but I could never tell you this.

From Me.

A letter.

All I needed was to write a letter to myself,

saying that I was doing the right thing, 

 before I could start to believe it.

We.

I am you. You are me.

I watch you on the screen.

Half my age and half again

I see myself, I see you.

Running and falling

And crying and singing.

I see proof of the days when living was easy.

Bunched up curls and bring blue eyes.

You stare at the camera,

But you're really staring at me.

I laugh, I cry,

You laugh, You cry.

At least a decade separates us

But we are the same thing,

Being,

Person.

I can see you but you can't see me.

Now I can only look back and try to remember.

As you look forward, and don't mean to, but forget.

                                                         here



Watched some baby videos last night. It made me nostalgic.

The boy.

The boy was tall and lanky, with a mess of brown hair that he hated brushing. He stood, leaning against the door frame of his room, with his music blaring, drowning out the rest of the world. Green eyes squeezed shut, he nods his head along with the beat. A battered skateboard sits propped against his bed, the underside graffitied with permanent marker.
A voice calls out to him, demanding attention, and ripping him from his reverie. His face emotionless just a moment before contorts suddenly with anger as he slams his door with force, and falls onto his bed with a sigh. He still hadn't recovered from the fight with his mother the night before. They had been arguing, again, and it had started off just like any other fight.
That was until she hit him.
She'd never hit him before.
He rubbed his cheek, wincing at the stab of pain that shot through his face. Pushing off the bed, he walked slowly over to the mirror and glanced at his reflection.
It was his face, that, he recognised, but his cheek was an unfamiliar shade of purple. He cringed at the memory of the previous night, and was taken aback by how vulnerable his face became in that moment.
He looked at his reflection, his eyes staring back at him, as he searched for answers but found nothing.

10 people, 10 things.

D.
Angry angry angry
Everything you do or say makes me angry
Please don't talk to me
I do resent you.

M.
Stop stop stop
Please will you just stop
Please don't nag me any more
I can't stand it
You're making me resent you.

Me.
Lonely lonely lonely
I always feel lonely
Now out of place with my own friends
People say they don't change
That they won't
And they lie
They always do.

S.
Intruder intruder intruder
You make me feel like an intruder
How come I feel alone around my own friends?
This is all your fault.

J.
Bitter bitter bitter
I am becoming bitter
Soon I will be sour as a lemon
Repelling people from my presence
As you are both repelling me from yours.

J.
Confused confused confused
You make me so confused
More than ever before
I don't want it to be this way
Please make things clearer
And show me that you care.

J.
Changed changed changed
I didn't like you when you changed
When you stopped being there
When you started hanging around with them
When you began to treat me differently
Sometimes I miss you now, sometimes I don't
Where were you when I needed you?
I don't know if I need you now.

K.
Different different different
You are the same but different
I don't know how I feel about you as a friend
I don't know whether I can trust you
Like you trust me.

P.
Understand understand understand
I don't understand
You are messed up
Taking more pills than I can count
I notice when your eyes change
You say no one else does
Its really because I look into things more than other people
Maybe because when I look, I really see.

J.
Gone gone gone
Where have you gone?
What changed?
Something is different
But I don't know what it is
I just want things to be the same they were.

Footsteps down halls on hardwood floors, echoing in my mind. There's no clear path anymore. Everything's a mess, a jumble of this and that. I fall, tumbling into my own existence, through words and time until I can't feel anymore.