i hate your smile. i hate the stupid freckles that cover your nose. i hate your eyes. i hate how much we fought. i hate how you always changed your mind. i hate your old fashion style. i hate the name amity. i hate white houses with green lawns and picket fences. i hate the idea of going on a honeymoon to greece and vacationing under a mango tree in Jamaica. i hate mangos. i hate how 6 months later i still have nights where all i want to do is talk to you for one last time. i hate your voice. i hate your necklace. i hate the name amber rae. i hate that smile that would cross your face when you opened the door and saw me. i hate the butterflies i got. i hate how i loved you. i hate how i only loved you. I hate how you looked at me after we kissed. i hated when you whispered in my ear. i hated when you would follow me when i walked out on you. i hated how you would carry me home even when i wanted to run away. i hated how you made me stop drinking coffee. i hated how you took my writing and read it. i hate how you would tickle me. i hate animated movies. i hate beagles and golden retrievers and boxers. i hated when you spun the teacups too fast. i hated how you always wanted to leave. i hated how you were never happy. i hate how i wasn't good enough for you. i hate that i miss you because you aren't worth missing.
Monday, February 28, 2011
say that im a bitch- at least i speak my mind. say that i'm selfish- you have never seen all the good that i have done. say that i'm fat- i way less than 110 pounds. say that i have no friends- really? i've got plenty. just look around. say that i am a slut- if you really want to believe that. at least i'm having fun and living my life. and you are standing in the corner wishing you could. tell me i'm fake- real hair real skin real boobs real smile. ya, i'm definitely fake. tell me no one likes me- that is why i can talk to a list of guys that want to be with me. tell me that i'm not pretty- you can check facebook. people definitely disagree. tell me that i lie- i have nothing to lie about. tell me that i'm lazy- because i will kill myself for something i love. keep talking because it just proves that you really know nothing about me.
when i have a baby... its going to be an awesome baby. its going to be the super cute super cool rockstar child who wears raybans and mini flannel jackets and jeans and doors tshirts and little one pieces with guitars all over them. i wanna have a sexyy baby god damn it
well hello everyone. i just wanted to introduce my new boyfriend... his name is Michael. He is a 32 year old man who is 6'2 with blonde hair, green eyes, tan skin- but he is white- he loves surfing and long walks on the beach as well as going to country concerts with his sister Marie. He went to san diego state university and he wants to be a construction worker/ contractor because it's a real man's job. He has lived in California all his life and loves soccer, baseball, and playing guitar. I met him online at Match.com. Isn't he amazing??? Until i found out he is really a 47 year old mexican with a half shaved head and a rat's tail, brown eyes, brown skin named Migel who enjoys wearing black eye liner, not shaving, smoking pot and getting drunk at the house at the end of the block whenever he feels like it. He doesn't know how to surf and he thinks walking is for weird people.... its because he is fat so he has no energy to walk... he doesn't know what country music is only death metal and he has a sister named merill. not marie. and she looks like snooki. she would be searched if she went to a country concert. He didn't go to college, he has to be in construction to pay the bills for his family who are illegal immigrants from mexico and he doesn't play sports or own a guitar.
hahaha the things people say on the internet.
I came home to my brother stoned out of his mind. He got a high score on COD and asked me to have a celebration yogurt with him.
Sitting in class about to puke during this ladys flute performance. Not sure why were having a flute concert in biology
Dude I wish you were here. I'm innthe back seat and it looks like outer space and everything feels like rice. idk. wtf.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
driving until i forget what happened. driving until i forget what i said. driving until i forget the chills that still run down my spine. driving until i forget that look in your eyes and the cracked, broken tone to your voice. driving until you are erased from my memory.
dear boy i am beginning to miss for no apparent reason,
i was talking to you today, and you broke my heart all over again. i never knew how lost you were when we were together... but i know now. and i am hitting myself trying to understand why i didn't see it before.. how could i miss something so big when i was with you for so long. i'm wondering if i was really that unobservant and i don't understand how this could have happened.. i should have realized what was going on- i should have helped you stop. i didn't. you never let me know there was a problem. and i just wanted to say that everything you could be is so amazing and i hope that you don't give up because you have potential that a lot of people don't.
smiles reflected in our cheap sunglasses we tried on in Urban Outfitters. Yours were Harry Potter style- with large, owl eye rims the color of the salmon old Mr. Wong's counter was selling this morning on 10th street. You grinned, taking my hand in yours and pulling me to look in the mirror. It was truly a beautiful sight, our figures reflected together in a glassy wall. He turned to me and said, "Darling, you look simply ravishing in those glasses." I curtsied, "Oh why thank you Mr. Scott! We do look smashing." He kissed my forehead pulling me towards him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled myself against his chest. All those days around on the playground when we were kids, the callused hands from monkey bars and then wishes made off of stray eyelashes that fell on our cheeks were finally paying off.