Okay, so I am officially over the hump with my project for art class. I am feeling very satisfied to be lugging all of my supplies and portfolio to and from class. I am walking with purpose!
Last night, class ended early because of the weather. I was stoked until I realized that I had no keys. Went outside to notice that my *overstressed but well meaning* stupid ass left the keys in the ignition. Luckily it was not a complete botched job since i had the decency and intelligence to at least not leave the car running.
It's muy muy funny now since i am not irritated and pissed off stranded at school.
Today feels like poetry. but first, must tell you about this *awesomely* beautiful girl in my art class. Oh, all things holy, she is beautiful. She has these lips...to say that they are full isn't nearly enough. They are like some decadently sweet and rich piece of pink candy that you would want to cherish slowly and infinitely. She is so angelic holding her pencil and making sure strokes. It is seriously like that one crappy movie with Jennifer Love Hewitt when everything slows down when she walks in. I am an idiot. Anyway, last night we were both waiting for rides and we started talking about art and why i am so self conscious about my work. I told her that I write poetry and I am super protective of my notebook. Needless to say that when she asked to see it, i didn't hesitate to put it in her hand so fast that it was like it magically appeared. She picked one of my favorite poems to read, then she talked to me about it...when she finally asked who it was about (it was about wanting to spend time with this girl i was into at the time), i never got to tell her because her ride came. She looked at me from under her eyelashes with those big cafe mocha doe eyes (come hither style) and told me that she'd like to come to an open mic to hear me read sometime. With a "see ya tuesday", she was gone off into the icy night leaving words still on my tongue like a gift left unopened under the tree on Christmas morning. All I could do was nod numbly, dumbly like the electronic pulses from my brain to my mouth were on lunch break.
Abort
Retry?
Fail...
yeah, Tuesday...right
This is yet another reason why being bi sucks sometimes. Nothing worse than misunderstood signals. No one wants to get slammed in the intersection for mistaking red for green.
and so by now if you are not tired of reading:
2 A.M. Insomnia
its happening again
what is sleep?
the line between night and day is a
long ago forgotten concept
time is only divisible by
moments with you
the taste of your smile on my tongue
the depth of the dimple in your cheek
the curve of your silhouette in the doorway
the sweep of your hands when you speak
these are the measures of life
the clock with its face and hands is a purely cosmetic icon
your face
your hands
tell my time
gestures tick by
happiness always too quickly spent
then gone
leaving, i am in motion on the highway
but in suspended e-motion
heart
beating
soul
still
my soul is still
in your arms
smelling the floral scent at your throat
lips on eyelids
as if on pause
spirits bookmarking the moment
until
like hungry suns, too long in the sky
our eyes set on each other
and
press play
Last night, class ended early because of the weather. I was stoked until I realized that I had no keys. Went outside to notice that my *overstressed but well meaning* stupid ass left the keys in the ignition. Luckily it was not a complete botched job since i had the decency and intelligence to at least not leave the car running.
It's muy muy funny now since i am not irritated and pissed off stranded at school.
Today feels like poetry. but first, must tell you about this *awesomely* beautiful girl in my art class. Oh, all things holy, she is beautiful. She has these lips...to say that they are full isn't nearly enough. They are like some decadently sweet and rich piece of pink candy that you would want to cherish slowly and infinitely. She is so angelic holding her pencil and making sure strokes. It is seriously like that one crappy movie with Jennifer Love Hewitt when everything slows down when she walks in. I am an idiot. Anyway, last night we were both waiting for rides and we started talking about art and why i am so self conscious about my work. I told her that I write poetry and I am super protective of my notebook. Needless to say that when she asked to see it, i didn't hesitate to put it in her hand so fast that it was like it magically appeared. She picked one of my favorite poems to read, then she talked to me about it...when she finally asked who it was about (it was about wanting to spend time with this girl i was into at the time), i never got to tell her because her ride came. She looked at me from under her eyelashes with those big cafe mocha doe eyes (come hither style) and told me that she'd like to come to an open mic to hear me read sometime. With a "see ya tuesday", she was gone off into the icy night leaving words still on my tongue like a gift left unopened under the tree on Christmas morning. All I could do was nod numbly, dumbly like the electronic pulses from my brain to my mouth were on lunch break.
Abort
Retry?
Fail...
yeah, Tuesday...right
This is yet another reason why being bi sucks sometimes. Nothing worse than misunderstood signals. No one wants to get slammed in the intersection for mistaking red for green.
and so by now if you are not tired of reading:
2 A.M. Insomnia
its happening again
what is sleep?
the line between night and day is a
long ago forgotten concept
time is only divisible by
moments with you
the taste of your smile on my tongue
the depth of the dimple in your cheek
the curve of your silhouette in the doorway
the sweep of your hands when you speak
these are the measures of life
the clock with its face and hands is a purely cosmetic icon
your face
your hands
tell my time
gestures tick by
happiness always too quickly spent
then gone
leaving, i am in motion on the highway
but in suspended e-motion
heart
beating
soul
still
my soul is still
in your arms
smelling the floral scent at your throat
lips on eyelids
as if on pause
spirits bookmarking the moment
until
like hungry suns, too long in the sky
our eyes set on each other
and
press play
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
Man, I miss going to class for that exact reason...oogling. It's like a meat market for ooglers. Thats why I always sat in the back corner of classes, that way the teacher never called on me, and I could watch everybody. I'm definitely a watcher (I mean, why else would I be here, duh).
I did miss you tons on Monday. And I was worried. There just wasn't something right about Burlesque without you, since we were the ones who got everyone together in the first place. But hey, it's only the first of many events to come. And until then, I'm just gonna stare at that pic of you're ass.
L