First thing in the morning. (Playing along.)

First thing in the morning,
I pull the covers tighter.
I suck in a big gulp of air.
And I hold my breath.
I think to myself,
"You're alive.
You made it through another night,
that you should have died during.
Time to brave the day.
And die tomorrow night,
again."
By then I'm dizzy.
And my lungs scream.
And I smile,
for I have some control.
And then I exhale,
and inhale.
Stale air.
And emptiness.

What do you do before you go to bed?

***I had these dreams in them I learned to play guitar.

Bold.

You can't be anything less.

And last night,

I dreamed I was.

I needed you.

I pulled you aside,

at musical practice,

"What?"

You asked.

I wrapped my arms around you.

Holding you tight.

Breathing in your scent.

Ungaro, with something else.

Gamey and musky.

Slightly sweet.

Intoxicating.

After what seemed like a blissful forever,

but was probably only seconds.

I loosened my grip.

"That's all I needed."

I lied.

I turned around.

walked back to practice

You followed.

We were talking,

in a group.

With Christie

(funny how dreams are),

and a few others.

We stood side by side

And I felt impulsive.

So I turned and kissed you,

right there in front of everyone.

Your lips were warm and familiar.

I didn't want to give them back up.

But I did,

quickly,

leaving you hungry for more.

But you acted like you didn't care.

I needed a ride home from you,

and your dad came late.

You slipped your arm around my waist,

as we waited alone.

You kissed me like the world was ending,

and I was all that could save it.

When you finally broke for air,

you leaned in

whispering into my hair

"God damnit. I've missed you."

You said between labored breaths.

"I haven't."

I replied,

lying again,

and walked away.

***But we don't have much room to live.

A snowflake fell from the sky.
Crystalline and unique.
Undisturbed it floated down.
Catching on my eyelash.

A chemical reaction-
a transfer of heat-
Created a perfect teardrop,
For your lips to meet.

(Kiss the tears away.
Don't we all deserve
a second chance?)

***And I'm sleeping in your living room.

"So you will know I'm thinking of you always
So you will know you're never alone

So you will know there will never be a time when
I sill stop missing you..."

-Julie Williams, Escaping Tornado Season

***And then you bring me home, Afraid to find out you're alone.

Pick up the pieces,

Hanging from a thread,

And put it back together,

At dangerous heights.

Unscramble the words,

So you forget to understand.

Promise not to look back,

When I run away.

Google Verb Meme.

I got this off the Vlogbrothers and I had to do it.

-----

GOOGLE MEME! Answer the following questions.

Q. Type in "[your name] needs" in the Google search.
"Gina needs to STFU about miscarriages!"

Q. Type in "[your name] looks like" in the Google search.
"Gina Carano says Tara LaRosa looks like a man."

Q. Type in "[your name] says" in the Google search.
"'Gina Says' is actually a book based of blog conversations.

Q. Type in "[your name] wants" in the Google search.
"Gina wants to look perfect in the mirror!"

Q. Type in "[your name] does" in the Google search.
"Gina does 18 flips and almost lands the last one!"

Q. Type in "[your name] hates" in the Google search.
"Gina Hates Me- on myspace music"

Q. Type in "[your name] asks" in the Google search.
"Gina asks 'WHY?'"

Q. Type in "[your name] likes" in the Google search.
"Gina likes to read or watch TV after work."

Q. Type in "[your name] eats" in the Google search.
"Gina eats Edmonton."

Q. Type in "[your name] wears" in the Google search.
"Every time Gina wears skinny jeans, God kills a kitten."

Q. Type in "[your name] was arrested for" in the Google search.
"Gina was arrested for donning 'demonic' clothing."

Q. Type in "[your name] loves" in the Google search.
"Gina loves Michel, Michel loves Gina-Journal"

----

Well nothing too exciting. The first was quite amusing though.

***Cuz you're afraid to find out all this hope that you had sent into the sky by now had crashed. And it did, because of me.

I made a paper bird.
With nurture she learned to Fly.
Her beauty was astounding.
But, Alas, it was Hunting Season.

Pierced by (my) Arrow or (your) Bullet?
We'll never know.
She Screeched,
instead of Singing,
as she fell to the Earth bellow.

I could try to save her.
And nurse her back to health.
But this situation surely required a team,
For a team we were no more.
And so She died.
As I did in Your arms.