Fireplace

I don't know why I think about you anymore. 

I mean, yeah. I see you at school in the halls almost every day, 

And I think about you because I see you. 

But that's not what I'm talking about.

I think about you when I'm trying to fall asleep at night.

I think about you when 17 by Youth Lagoon is playing on repeat. 

I think about you when I have a craving for crepes, 

When I sit by a fireplace.

That's bolded because it was special to me.

And because my fireplace doesn't work worth shit. 

Point is, I can't stop thinking about you. 

And I can't stand it. 

I put 17 on repeat with the hope that it will lose it's meaning and 

become just another song that I find to be sorta rad. 

I have a recipie for crepes now because I don't need you 

to show me how to make them anymore. 

I can do it on my own.

I sit by other fireplaces, hoping that the heat from each one

will feel the same as your fireplace did

so that it won't have any special meaning to me. 

So that it won't keep me up at night with the thought of you. 

My mind is so worn out from thinking of you. 

If we took a look at my brain, all you would see are ashes. 

Ashes created by the thoughts of that stupid fireplace. 

I just wish my own damn fireplace would work. 

I'm done thinking of you. 

To Remember Forever; To Always Forget

I'll remember forever: you.

I'll always forget: us.

I'll always remember the nights spent gazing at the stars

I'll try to forget the feelings I had those nights.

I'll always remember the fireplace and how it warmed my frozen toes

I'll try my hardest to forget how you thought that was cute. 

That I was cute.

I will always and forever remember the times spent talking about our lives and the mistakes we had made,

I'll try really hard to forget what I told you about myself.

But you will never forget.

I will always remember the way you would stare at me, 

saying nothing at all, 

smiling all the while.

I'll try my best to forget the butterflies I got when you told me it was because I was beautiful. 

I'd like to try and catch them all and put them back in my stomach.

Maybe you can help me?

I'll always remember the time that I kissed you by my car for the very first time,

and how you were caught off guard.

But it was a good thing.

I really hope that I can forget how badly I blushed 

and how your lips tasted on mine. 

I'll always remember how I apologized for everything

even though I didn't really know what I was apologizing for.

I'll try to forget how mad it made me that I was the only one saying "sorry."

I'll try really hard with that one.

I'll always remember scrolling through her pictures on all the social networking sites that mess with my head,

and thinking to myself, "Wow. She's really pretty. He's lucky." 

I'll try so hard to forget how it felt like somebody had stabbed me in the heart. 

I think it will be good for me to forget.

I promise i'll try my hardest.

Because

I'll remember forever: you.

I'll always forget: us.

I told him I would paint this picture for him.

Don't even know why I did this.

I'm insecure about a lot of things, as I'm sure we all are. 

But if I told then all to you, it'd take too long. 

Maybe on another post. 

My head hurts now.

Bye.

Death

"A pale white face 

And deep set eyes

Your lips glued shut 

And hands by your thighs.

Your expression is painted 

Like a Victorian doll

Red lips, flushed cheeks

No expression at all.

You're dressed delicately

With flowers in your hair 

Your features absent of pain 

Sorrow and despair

The smell of rose lingers 

Mixed with decay

How beautiful you look

Now your life's slipped away."

Anonymous.

This poem is the poem I found when my best friends mom died

And I went to look in the casket, praying for it to be empty.

But it wasn't.

I sat in the corner and cried.

That part was worse than the service. 

Idk

Wrap me up in flowers
Strap me to a tank,
There is no peace in love or war
So please just let me sink. 

Loves of My Life

I love the sun.

I love seeing the tulips blooming in my yard.

I love to sweat while I pull weeds in the backyard.

Nobody likes to pull weeds. 

I love shutting out the loud voices of people

in the halls with my headphones and music.

I love getting more freckles on my face

even though I tell everyone that I hate them.

I secretly like them because they make me feel pretty.

And that's OK, right?

I love the boys who ask girls to dances

because they put themselves out there for the ones they like. 

Or even asking a girl because they know she's never been

and she really needs it. Those are my favorite boys. 

The nice boys.

I love my kitty cats because they love me no matter what. 

My sister and I plan on having 10 cats when we're older.

We'd pick cats over men any day. 

That was irrelevant

 but I felt like this post needed some humor. 

Even though half of you thought that wasn't even funny. 

Oh, well.

I love feeling the summer breeze on my face,

watching it whip my hair around.

I love to change things about my appearance. 

It makes me feel like a new person 

but my personality still remains.

I love warm blankets during the winter

because they remind me of the summertime.

I love watermelon.

As long as it's the seedless kind.

I don't like to spit out the black seeds.

I once ate 17 pieces of watermelon in Arizona

and I got a horrible stomachache afterwards.

Somehow, I still love it. 

I love the way he loves me. 

No need to elaborate.

I love the boy who played Peter Pan. 

I always wished I could be Wendy. 

Maybe I can shoot the Wendy Bird down..

I love music from movies.

Especially the ones with an orchestra. 

How to Train Your Dragon has the best soundtrack.

I love my little sister and how close we've become.

I might even get a tattoo of her birthday in Roman Numerals

when I turn 18. 

Maybe then my mom won't be so mad.

These are the loves of my life.

Fears of the Unknown

My fears are the following:

The monsters under my bed. Unlike Rihanna, the monsters and I are not friends.

Spiders. Whether you consider it an irrational or rational fear,

most of you will scream like the little girls you are when you find it to be hanging out in the bathroom stall with you.

The Future and what it holds for me. Will I get good grades like my older siblings and have the career I want?

Will I disappoint my professors, my friends, my parents?

My Parents. . The things they hold over my head, 

threatening to drop the blade on the guillotine at any second. 

The love they try to show me, 

the same love that I can see through so easily.

But fears can be conquered. 

And one day, I will conquer this particular fear, and I hope that my parents will do the same.

I hope that they can conquer the fear of losing their daughter. 

Just because she isn't Mormon.

I have a lot of fears, more than I can count.

If I tried naming them all, you'd be reading for hours. 

I'll spare your time. 

Peace.