letters to strangers four

Hey you

Yeah you

Looking for all the world like you own them all

But I know better

Or, at least, I used to

You and me, babycakes, we could have shown them

Wiped the rain-spattered streets with their sorry excuses for dreams

There’s no use wasting time on easy things.

We could have shown the world what we could do

You and me, babycakes,

Me and you

For once, we would be what’s right in the world

No longer the silly little outcasts

We could have changed the world

Written out the hopes we never dared to have

Painted the sky in the colors of dreams

But then the sad truth sank in

The world didn’t want us

And we didn’t really want us either.

letters to strangers three

hey there darling, you think you can hide? I don't know you but I know you well.

---3

Hey you

Yeah you

The one dancing out of sync

Just one beat off the music

Three steps ahead makes you look one step behind

Out of sync with reality

Phasing in and out like the strobes you so adore

Never quite living up to what the world wants you to be

Simply because you’re doing all that and more

You don’t belong here

You’re a rebel

You’re a star

You’re a fighter

You’re a lover

This world isn’t good enough for you

But no one seems to realize what they would miss out on

But that’s okay, you say.

It’s all okay.

We’re all okay.

(We’re not okay.)

letters to strangers (two)

this one goes out to you, diamond in a sea of rhinestone sparkles.

Hey you

Yeah you

Watching your days pass by in vain

Always looking for the easy way out

But never quite wanting what you find

When will you learn that you can’t hide behind those mirrored eyes you seem to adore?

Despite your façade

your visage

your lovely masquerade ball of a mind

Sometimes it takes time to see past your glitter-dusted masks

But that’s okay, you know,

Because we have all the time in the world.

letters to strangers (one)

Dedicated to the girl in the reindeer shirt.

Hey you

Yeah you

Staring down the sunset like it insulted you personally

What are you trying to prove?

All wasted on these star-dusted dreams

You said this would be your ticket out of here

But do you really want to leave?

Always expecting more than you’ll ever be able to have

But never letting yourself slow down to think of what having it would be like

Judging and being judged, but that’s just life,

Moving on and never taking it personal,

Never bothering to look back,

Living large and breaking hearts,

Isn’t that the way it should be?

Isn’t that the way you should be?

day one: introductions and whatnot

Well hello there, dearest Internet. Please forgive me for all the poetic nonsense I'm about to unleash on your poor unsuspecting system...

But you deal with emo kids on Livejournal, so this shouldn't be a problem.

Anyway, this will be the dumping ground for my speedwritten poetry, about the equivalent of my mind taking a rather verbose shit onto a word processor. Forgive the language, but it's the truth; for the most part, these works were written spontaneously, whenever I found time, and in one sitting. There was no agonizing deliberation over the order of lines, no choice of imagery that kept me awake at night. This is my experiment in what is almost automatic poetry.

If it even can be called poetry.

I am not going to pretend to be an expert of the English language. I'm not even an angsty eyeliner'd social outcast. I'm just a girl that could imagine before anything else, and even now proceeds to ignore everything else in order to imagine.

The reason I do this?

I read.

Beyond that, I'm really not sure. The circumstances are there, inspired at a young age by the likes of William Gibson and his ilk, but that's not entirely it. I have no desire to become a writer; well, okay, that's not entirely true. But the fact remains that at this point in my life, I cannot even hope to visualize myself finishing the writing of a novel. It would probably turn out somewhat like this introduction - fancy words masking an utter lack of anything meaningful. On some level, it may be my way of dealing with problems, being the 'artsy type' or something. More likely, it's how I attempt to understand my world, by assigning it language that I know and understand. Human nature is instinctively afraid of the new and different, right? Even Plato knew that, back in the day. Maybe by categorizing the unfamiliar world into words and phrases I can comprehend, the entirety of the universe will be that much more navigable.

So here's to understanding.

And maybe, someday in the future, I can look back on these works and laugh, because there was so much I didn't understand.