The Day I met God III.i walk by and watch his eyes follow every inch of me until i take my cold, hard seat that i was almost sure had been spit upon. he takes his hat off slowly and itches his dirty, greasy hair. "you look like hell" he says.
"you do too."
God had appearantly been depressed, he hadn't showered in what smelled like a couple of days. his lips were stained a slight pale yellow from the excessive amounts of cigarettes he'd been smoking. "Smoking is bad for you, you know" , i said.
"Kalea, don't tell me what is bad for me."
i had become a little irriatated with God, every question i asked him, came back with a heavily full reply. his old, tired hands were covered in scars, and bruises. he told me these had been from mistakes made when creating people, and lives, and earth.
I guess it's true that some wounds will never heal.
i sat staring straight ahead, aware that God knew every. little. thing. about me. "Do you believe in me, Kalea?"
watching you spin.you're a disco dancing, drama queen with dirty hair and the permanent smell of stale cigarettes. but god, are you beautiful, twisting and dancing under circular lights,watching you spin.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
and vomiting when you're done.(acid does some crazy shit)
your hair was once blonde and beautiful like your eyes, but now it's laying in clumps almost everywhere, because you fucking pull out a strand whenever i'm around, i don't know why i do that to you.
but i never really ever offer to leave, either.
there's that one song that i always hear you listening to, it's the same old shit about love and loss and never being able to forget that special someone, i use to get mad at you for giving in to such conforming types of art.
but now i just let you go, because last time i actually made you cry.
"would you rather fly, or read minds?" i told you i'd rather read minds, and know what everyone thinks, because you can fly on a plane anyday, but no one ever thinks the same.
The Day I Met God.I met God one evening.The Day I Met God.5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The funny thing is, i wasn't wanting to find him.
God was smoking.
"Why are you smoking?"
"I'm God Kalea, i'm stressed."
We sat atop a big balcony and watched his creations move.
"They're so beautiful", God was breathing hard.
But I know they aren't. they aren't. they aren't.
How do you tell God that?
"Why do people rape, and murder and steal?"
God's mouth is the shape of a sinking ship
his face carries the wrinkles of one thousand dying souls.
ianeverything starts out blackian4 years ago in Scraps More Like This
but ian sees her in red.
ian is the kind of boy to breathe in pillow cases, and lay in the fetal position waiting for sleep to come, and the outcome doesn't surprise.
(it never comes the way he wants it to).
ian is colorblind in his dreams. he wakes up feeling anxious and restless, because he can't remember if her eyes are really green, or blue, or where the coffee stain is on her favorite yellow jacket.
(the left sleeve, he could never forget.)
ian is neutral. black hair, black eyes, pale skin. he doesn'
The Day I Met God II.What do you say to the lonliest man in the world?The Day I Met God II.5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"I think you're doing the best you can."
but in my mind it played past tense.
the best you could.
For awhile I had this sudden urge to hold onto God's hand.
I wonder how long it had been since someone comforted him.
This time, I shifted, uncomfortably.
"It's okay, Kalea. You don't have to."
for some reason I forgot that he knew every moment.
God got up, and walked to the edge of the balcony
i watched him grab the purple clouds and pull them closer to us
"Kalea, do you know what it's like to destroy?"
Yes God, I do.
I knew he could read my mind, but instead I said
I watched God pull the clouds back and let them fly across the sky
God walked back to the balcony wall and held his head in his hands.
her.she is one hundred percent alone, minus him.her.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
she has milk white skin, and jagged bones. her eyes are pale and soft, and could make you surrender under her breath (and they will.)
every night she goes to sleep with a man who touches her, and she feels sick. and she wishes he'd just leave the hair in her face.
(because it's easier to hide tears that way.)
she dreams at night.
her milky skin is spilling over unfamiliar fingers. the freckles on her back match the ones in his eyes, and she feels safe. she offers him her heart, and he closes it into a box.
(she wakes up feeling ninety nine percent alone.)
she's in a nightmare
still.one.still.4 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
her name is alice. there is a slight blood stain on the valley where her lips part, and her eyes are two supermassive black stars that can't show anything but hurt. she can't bring herself to look in the broken mirror puddles that are all over the ground.
(and i don't blame her)
she borrows her mother's raincoat because it smells like home. not the homes that are flooded with laundry soap or soft candles burning in the family room, but more like the paint she spilled on the carpet, or the whiskey on her father's breath.
(and sometimes, she swears she can smell her mother's sadness.)
when alice was little she remembers playing freeze tag with her mother. she remembers feeling anxious, and now she feels sick. "if daddy touches you, stay still, and don't make a sound."
bipolar hearts.we use to watch Fight Club together, because she said that it made her feel a little less alone, and i could never reply so i held her in my lap.bipolar hearts.4 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
and she told me she was kalea's dizzy mind.
and in real life, you would think nothing of anything really, because she watches the birds fly just like you do. the morning rises on the same side of her window, and she can watch the clock tick away hours, just like you.
and she told me she was kalea's spinal cord.
i watched her pick at her fingernails for too long, and always decided i would leave as soon as they started bleeding. her arms are full of scars where she thought she felt something crawling up her skin, only to find she was still alone. i told her i was here, but she turned over(and i can still hear her uneven breathing)
and she told me she was <i>
melting point.I'd like to get you off my chestmelting point.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to heave one big cough, and you'd be gone
being alone is a lot like being sick
when i have you, i can't stand you.
I'd like to laugh at things you say
to feel something inside from you
laughing is a lot like lying
it's always at someones expense.
you always said you wished you could die young
to be living beautiful, and die beautiful
living is a lot like a puzzle
messages.it's twenty degrees outside, and when he breathes into the air, the smoke spells sex.messages.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
but not the loving kind, the kind where taking a shower just isn't enough to get the smell of him off of me.
he's all wrapped up into disney movie, magic shit. when i know that he is just some dirty subliminal message, and i'll get sucked in.(but i'll tell myself it's not my fault, because my sub-conscious should be more aware, and i'll pinch myself to make sure i'm sleeping.)
i know that's not right. (anything to keep me asleep)
if and when he holds my hand he squeezes 3 times, and that means "i love you." and i am aware that i should squeeze back 3 times because that is just courteous to do. but for some reason i squeeze once, and that just means, "okay."
(there is this part of me that wishes my subconscious could catch
reflections.I watched you destroyreflections.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
by destroy, i mean explode
and exploding is the easy way out.
I'd rather burst into flames, the heroic way.
i made a puzzle out of our faces
i glued it together, i could never put your eyes together
nothing ever fit there was always a speck of something reflecting in the pupil.
but it was never me.
i'd hold your hand
but you told me holding onto someone was needy
"you hold onto life" i said,
or did you?
i picked up your favorite marble and threw it across the room
i watched you sit there, and stare at it rolling farther and farther away
i watched you let it go
you'd let me go, but no one would have to throw me.
smiles are for happy people
moments are for people worth remembering
puzzles are for people with too much time
reflections are for people who you want to see.
but it was never me.
william.dreams make him vomit.william.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
he has spider-leg fingers and eyes so cold they could stop your heart.
(and they will.)
every night william goes to sleep knowing that someone else is waking up with his only friend, and he wishes he could brush the honey-stained hair from her cheek.
(not the man, who can't even spell love without cheating.)
william dreams at night.
his spider fingers are creeping up the jagged edge of her spine. her skin is the color of milk, and lightly freckled. william keeps her safe, and has made a tiny door, where he keeps her in his heart.
(he wakes up next to an empty pillow, with an empty feeling)
william writes a book in his nightmares.
she is in every chapter. her legs stretch across every page, and taunt him with sex, and things that spiders are not allowed to touch. she holds
creation.God is a scientist.creation.5 years ago in Scraps More Like This
he has a lab with tiny viles and tubes
in some of them are people parts
there is never enough of hearts.
he has trouble putting some of the parts together
you have a crooked nose
and i can't make decisions
but at least i have a conscious
he created too many creations
there is a deadline
when they reach it, they die.
they don't die really, just move up into the sky.
I think that God put my heart where my mind should be.
i could never hurt you
but i plan to.
here comes my conscious.
if the creations need him,
they lay their heads onto pillows
and whisper softly into them
God doesn't have an answering ma
monotony.we went to vegas. you drove and i pressed myself against the side of the door and breathed out pictures onto your window. you planned to make it big, and i planned to make it a memory. i fell asleep through the city of lights, and it was then i decided that christmas didn't feel the same, and your hands were always cold, even through your gloves.monotony.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i sat on the hotel bed and thought of how many people sat exactly where i was. you were in the bathroom buttoning up your shirt. i clenched mine so tightly closed my back pressed through the fabric. this was when i decided this is what suffocating was like. you were talking to me but i only remember the crying of a girl in the next room, here is where i considered the fact, that i just can't cry anymore.
i told you i feel my flesh tighten when i wear dresses, but you insisted. you hit the elevator button and as the door closes, my stomach sinks. i study the man next to me and wonder if he slept through the drive here. it's then that i decide t
lightening bolt eyes.he has lightening bolt eyes and one fucking killer smile.lightening bolt eyes.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
let me introduce you to whom i call "fire-fly."
he has ice white skin and something about the way his hair falls that makes me wish mine would conform to such a beauty.
looking at you for so long makes me feel. Really feel.
he calls them fire-flies but i say lightening bugs.
fire burns hot against his skin, and i can feel the heat in his heart
but lightening bolt eyes can destroy you.
but god, it's so beautiful first, but only at first.
he calls me his "freckled girl" and i call him my heart
and he says that i shine underneath the sun
like it was made for me, and only me
but he has telescope eyes, and those can see to the stars.
he has razor blade hip bones and they stab into me while i dream
lightening bolt eyes and freckles like stars
and in my bed at midnight is the perfect galaxy
and for a second we make one constellation