i'm not ready..

maybe,

as the new year comes in

and the ball drops

and screams from millions of human beings wash over me and my unrest,

i'll be transformed into something else.

something that will allow me to swallow what awaits me.

to venice...

tell me what you're listening to

as i watch you cruisin' down the strand.

your hair gets swept up in the winter air

and i just want to hold your hands.

i know you've dyed too many times

to count on hands and feet,

your technicolor breaking through

leaves me shaking in my seat.

so i made you follow me

we layed between the blades,

as the air was getting colder

and our skin began changing shades.

without the will to make a move

breathing stationary in the grass

you're keeping time according to my heart

while i stare watching the clouds move past.

my footwork symbolizes us,

more than you could ever know.

your peddling is getting faster,

my wheels are struggling through snow.

as soon as you get close to me,

i peddle fast and far away.

my mind is so much quicker than,

i could ever hope to be.

don't you leave me here,

don't you rob me blind.

with the blood in my lungs,

and the sun in my eyes.

cause i won't wait here

no, not for you

i can't wait forever

it's something i can't do

so you can tell me how long

i'll be standing here

with salt in my veins

and my head full of fear

cause somehow i get the feeling

it'll be years and years and years and years and years and years and years

i've seen your prints in the sand

in a hurricane

i've watched your branches snap

and i've felt your pain

cause maybe i'll just wait here

maybe i'll wait for you

i'm thinking i could stay here

and live inside of you

mmm. It feels so good. This winter air brushing up against my resistant summer skin. It doesn't want to change no matter how much I want it to.

I'm love how at home I feel buried under these plumes of painted sky. Beneath my layers of clothes and comforters. They do comfort. This is my true skin.

the morning after.

today i noticed that i'm lost.

i don't know where i'm going, and i don't know if i want to go there. i've realized this for quite some time, but it was just today that i noticed myself. i wish you could see the clouds. for some reason though, i'm okay with it. i'm glad i know that i'm lost. i'm coasting down this road with no end in sight, and i'm fine. i don't feel fine...my limbs tighten and my breath shortens, but deep down i'm alright.

lara simon.

just clicking through pictures, i came across a photo of myself from a few months ago. i looked at it and remembered what day it was, who i was with, what we were doing. i looked down to a comment from someone who i haven't really spoken to in quite some time. she said, 'i miss you'. she misses me. 

she misses me?

she doesn't miss me...

does she?

maybe she misses home. maybe she misses what her life used to be like and the comfort of what she used to have. now all that she has is moving from apartment to loft across the sparkling los angeles.

maybe she just wants to come home. she wants to feel some familiarity. she doesn't want to have to cope anymore. she doesn't want to drown or inhale so much that it makes her nights a distant world when she wakes up in the morning. she doesn't want to see her memories fade away when sunlight breaches her weary eyelids at 10 am. 11. am.

she misses me?

harvest.

i spend so much time trying to find a loose skull. a head that i can just place my hands on and remove. i finally found one. i found a skull that just came off. 

of course, i had to take mine off first, because who wants to be the only one with the top of their head missing? 

there was so much inside her head.

it took a few moments to get past all the blood and lining, but it wasn't that thick of a barrier. once i got inside, it was beautiful. so much raw energy just resting on that brain.

i'm speechless.

i want more of that brain. i got to see the past.

ocean drives & paperclips.

paper clips,

they hold together dreams.

dreams of all these,

flying winged things.

staple all your

hopes and wants and needs.

to watch them burn

into obscurity.

ask your self,

what you're doing here.

or do you somehow,

know the answer dear?

the skin is peeling,

from our summer woes.

the ocean drives,

the nights, the screams, the shows.

I watch as the Winter slowly makes it's way into this small town. It's not completely evident in these beach cities, but this Winter I can feel it. There's something here.

Things are starting to speed up around here. I can see it. The grass is growing taller, the people are getting older, and the milk is getting sour.

I'm waiting.