Worship

“Hey, girl.” Looking up from an elixir

that tastes exactly like what

someone would give a girl

to get her to come home with him.

He’s gorgeous,

this Greek statue whose white marble coat

has been scratched off to reveal the human underneath.

That warm skin stretches into a smile that speaks

of exactly what he wants to happen next.

This beautiful nephilim tugs me

through the haze of a modern temple

toward the sacrificial dance floor.

Surrounded by mortals

in various stages of mating rituals

and the lonely voodoo bastards in corners

casting bones for a temporary goddess.

Whispers in my ear,

this dance floor prophet

is predicting my future.

He leads me to the altar wherein starts

the obsessing,

the caressing,

the delicious undressing,

and then the glorious possessing

of heavenly beings whose wings have been ripped out

and left bloody on the floor with the rest of the clothing.

Need and desire mix into music notes,

a doxology of the damned,

a hymn of desperation.

Sacrifice bleeds onto pure white sheets,

the scarlet snow of sin.

I paint ancient runes on skin,

interpreting the constellations in his eyes.  

This is the worship of sacred and tragic bodies,

and in that moment I found asylum in his bones.

Smothered by incense that reeks of impulse,

crucified because of a smile.

He drags me into the dirt with no hope

for an exorcism from those eyes.

I wouldn’t want to be.

He is a devastating smile

and a demanding patron;

I am drunk on holy water and confessions,

forever a servant to it.

            Condemned.

And as I lay thee,

down to sleep,

I pray the dark

will let me sleep.

Him

There are people, beautiful people, that are in the world that ruin you for the rest of your life.

Tragically beautiful creatures that are small clusters of constellations that burn into your skin and tattoo their names on your heart. These manifestations that are not like the rest of the filth of the world. I have the incredible privilege of knowing someone like that. The kind of person that shatters you and burns far brighter than the rest of the Joe Punchcards that go through life simply eating and shitting all over the place. 

And he only has an inkling of what he means to me. 

He's broken. 

He's perfect. 

For someone so smart, he sure is stupid when it comes to realizing what he is. He's incorrigible and stubborn and teaches me to sleep in just so he can wake me up. Even his faults are flawless. He's the half of me I couldn't find before and I didn't even believe in that. I fit with him. Everything is okay in the world when he's there. I'm not a freak, I don't need to be fixed, I am whole. He's the kind that you find in dirty rooms and love until you die. I am vulnerable. It feels completely comfortable.

~

He hates waiting for anything and mixes vodka into his merlot.

He lets you listen to your music in the car just so he can laugh at your dancing.

He doesn't take his coat off once he gets inside and won't let you eat fast food. 

He buys $80 dollar chargers and then throws it in your face even though he was happy to do it. 

He's a good influence through bad language and even worse habits. 

He makes you feel like shit, he makes you feel like the shit. 

He likes it better when you don't straighten your hair and makes fun of your chipped nail polish. 

He encourages deviant behavior. 

He is suicidal and he writes like Nobokov.

He hides his mischief in the corners of his mouth and his frustration in his eyebrows. 

He won't watch race car movies with you. 

He questions everything you believe.

He knows where to find some of the best beauty in the world but doesn't see it half the time. 

He always buys a coffee instead of buying a cup of coffee. 

He says "rad" in Colorado. 

He listens to good music and he drives like the devil. 

He wants to replace people with robots. 

He's incredible but can't see it. 

He. Him. His. Mine. 

~

I'm obsessive. I'm possessive. I don't get jealous and yet here I am. He's terrifying and wonderful and I'm lost in him. He doesn't know how much I need him. He doesn't want to live and that would kill me. I'd leave everything for him if he asked. Anything. Everything. He rips my heart out on a regular basis. It's okay. I don't want it back. Every day I text him and my heart catches in my throat thinking he might be gone. Every day he messages me back and I can breath for another 24 hours. Yesterday I drove around town for 3 hours. I thought he had finally done it. I just had to keep driving. I couldn't handle anything else. I'm not going to be able to handle it if he's gone. He thinks I'm temporary, he thinks I'll forget him. I don't know what to say. I can't say anything. He doesn't understand how much I need him. He plays my heartstrings harder than anybody else. I always want to wake up where he is. I love him. I'm in love with him.

I am begging him to stay. 

~

I feel the marks he's carved into my skin. I smile at the scars. 

Things I am thankful for today:

1. Razor blades

2. Nissan Xterras

3. The Him Who Fits

Snake or Smarty Pants?

I've decided that I need to come up with a fake major and fake plan for my future to tell people when they ask. I am so fucking sick of the reactions I get. I either get one of two typical reactions: impressed with a need for justification of their own life or disdainful and discouraging. Let me explain.

Reaction #1:

A regular interaction when inquiring about my major follows as such:

Random stranger: "So what are you studying at school?"

Me: "Oh, well I'm studying law."

"Law? Wow, you must be incredibly intelligent. There's no way I'd be smart enough to go to law school."

"Well,  I wouldn't really say I'm that intellige-"

"But how can you afford to go to law school? It's not really the best time financially to go with the economy the way it is…"

"Well, I'd like to see it as investing in my fut-"

"You must work REALLY hard."

"I'd like to think that I work pretty hard but I'm really passionate abo-"

"Well I guess it's okay because you're going to make a TON of money."

*sigh* "Yes."

-Or-

  

Reaction #2:

A couple days ago I was studying with my bio nerds. They were doing their physics homework and I was working on my constitutional law homework. I was surrounded by white boards and science lingo, just the way I like it. With my earbuds in and some tunnel vision kicking in, I was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder by one of said dear bio nerds. An elderly gentleman had wandered over to the table, interested by the expo markers and various textbooks strewn across the table. He had asked what we were studying and what we wanted to do with our science degree and assumed I was also a part of the squishy science profession. The table went around saying things like "doctor" or "P.A." or "cell researcher" when the spotlight fell to me, the lowly Pre-Law, bachelor of arts plebe. The conversation went something like this:

"And what do you want to be a doctor as well?" 

"Um, actually, I'm a Pre-Law major. I just hang out with a lot of sciencey people. "

"Hm, law, eh? Snakes. All of them. You should do something else and save a lot of money."

*laughs nervously* "Yea, I guess so. But I want to-"

"Have you even spent any time around lawyers?"

"Yes, actually my-"

"Well I used to teach physics and…" *continues talking about how accomplished he is*

He then proceeded to help them with their homework for the next hour. I politely put my earbuds back in and ignored them for the duration of an entire Korn album, grumpy and hating the world for subscribing to petty stereotypes. 

Later, as I was ordering my third cup of coffee for the evening, the elderly buffoon approached me again. 

"And what do you want to do with your law degree?"

"Well, I want to study international relations with an emphasis in human righ-"

"Fighting human trafficking, huh?"

*sigh* "Yes."

~

I am fed up with people and their predetermined opinion of me. I am sick of the cynicism and people feeling like they need to "warn me." AND I AM FUCKING SICK OF NO ONE EVER LETTING ME FINISH MY DAMN SENTENCES. 

*deep breath* 

Mini rant time: 

Just because you have heard of all the corruption and watch the news and read articles about the problems in politics and government does not mean that you have the right to try and change my mind. Yes, I know there is corruption. Yes, I'm going to try my hardest to practice ethically. No, I'm not doing this for the money. No, I don't know how I'm going to pay for it yet. No, I am not a genius. Yes, I am a nerd. No, I will not represent you in court one day for free. Yes, in fact, I have spent COPIOUS amounts of time with lawyers and policy makers. 

Yes, I do, in fact, live for this shit.

I just want to help people and the best way I know how to do that is do what I'm good at and what I'm passionate about. I firmly believe that finding the intersection between what you're passionate about and what breaks your heart will lead to a fulfilled life, a purposeful life. I'm not trying to be more ambitious, I'm not trying to be considered incredibly intelligent. I just like what I do. 

So please, just let me study my SCOTUS briefs in peace and I won't sue you for everything you own. 

This is a Grumpy B.A. Student

~

Things I am thankful for today: 

1. Legal pads

2. Convenient outlets

3. Constitutional Democracy

Green Day and Finals

I'm having trouble trying to sleep. 

I have been awake for 48 hours.

I'm counting sheep but running out. 

I don't remember what emotions feel like. 

As time ticks by…

My brain is running solely on caffeine and song lyrics.

And still I try…

My eyes have run out of saliva.

No rest for cross tops in my mind.

What's my name?

On my own, here we go. 

~

Exhaustion. Dead weight. Heavy eyelids that are glued open. A caffeinated haze. An empty, angry stomach. A hollow skull. The need of escape.

When I get this tired and this exhausted I start getting more reckless than usual. I start tripping and accidentally banging into desks and the idea of dropping acid becomes more and more appealing. Stress and responsibilities bash in my personality until I am a mindless lemming ready to run off the edge of my mind.

I'm jittery and just wish I had the ability to sit still. The capacity to rest. But I don't. I can't stop just yet. 

I can't even find the motivation anymore. Instead of doing my work I'm sitting here, pouring out my disjointed thoughts and broken mind. I'm bleeding out all over the tile. 

~

I've lost it. I've spent the past hour dancing on top of lab tables in the zoology department because I primarily hang out with science majors who all want to be doctors or researchers. I'm drawn to their jargon that's so unfamiliar to me. I'm drawn to the intellect that is so foreign to me. I'm drawn to the strange world of cells that they live in. I'm drawn to the giant speakers in the lab that hooks up to my Mac. 

I'm manic. I've lost it. I'm riding an adrenaline high that's making me sick. 

I am fucking sick.

…I've been staring at the white board for a full 10 minutes. 

This must sound insane to you, my darling reader. Well, truth is that it's true. 

I am crazy.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy after all. 

This is Desperation.

~

Things I'm thankful for today:

1. Caffeine

2. Lab tables

3. Thug music

Wants v. Needs (2013)

Kiss me like you've missed me.

Kiss me like I'm the "her" that you can't stop thinking about. 

Kiss me like you did before.

Like you were hungry.

Like you were starving.

Don't mind the napkin notes. 

~

It's just a rainy, cold day. 

All I want is to read life shattering books, drink incredible coffee, discover great music, 

have mind-blowing sex, and think big thoughts.

But instead I'm in college. 

I'm surrounded by Christmas music and commercials and cliches and classmates and course-home-school work. Work, work, work. It never ends. My mind marches to the tune of deadlines and drum lines. I shoulder my pack and lean into the wind. 

People around me are getting married and having babies and getting stable jobs. I miss the times of sitting in a coffee shop for hours on end and just soaking up life and finding God in odd places. 

~

This is a dirty blues day. 

I love days like these, damp and begging for bare feet slammed into every puddle on the sidewalk. I remember weather like this when I used to open the dance studio in the summer. That used to be my safe place. Pouring rain, the reflections of water on the window would dance across the purple floor that I helped paint when I was 13. I'd flick the breaker that powered the stereo system and the buzz of the speakers would center me. 

I recently broke into the auditorium at my school (it was unlocked but I like to think I'm a badass). I was able to dance for the first time in a very, very long time. I sat down on the stage after my toes had started bleeding and almost lost it. I was home for a moment. I was happy for a moment.

Instead of being in a community of beautiful people like I used to have, the dancers of the world, I am now in an environment that tries incredibly hard to crush the spirit out of you. It's draining and confusing and I am counting down the days until I can run away and get lost in a big city in a far away place. It's hard to find dancers in a place like this. I'm not talking about physical ballerinas or swing dancers, I mean the people who live in the world and don't just tap a toe. 

~

There are so many things I want in my life. I think that they're simple but I've found that they are uncommon and people don't often understand. Until I can move past this chapter in my life I must accomplish what I need to. I will sit at the same table for 4 hours and fight the urge to set this place on fire. I remain deprived of touch and taste because I'm a workaholic. I will keep my coffee mug close and my list of assignments for the next two weeks even closer. 

It's funny how people think I'm so rebellious. It confuses me, but then again I've never met myself. 

This Will Feel Better in the Morning

P.S. This isn't coffee in my mug.

~

Things I'm Thankful for Today:

1. Orange Juice

2. Vodka

3. Joe Bonamassa