zoey-says-hello

a needle, thread, cloth, and some polyester, i sewed a doll and named her esther. she was so perfect, colored bright her cheeks were red, her smile tight. but one day by mistake i dropped her on the floor; my dog picked her up, and dragged her out the door. she was left on the pavement, waiting in rain, each drop was a tear forming a stain. ran over by cars, squashed flat by each tire, she stayed together by threads, her situation was dire. and then one day a bird took her, for part of a tree's nest, so she stayed there for a month, and for that month she could rest. but in house below the tree, a barbeque was going

our fiberglass hearts were destined to break splinters of yesterday left in their wake; these fragmented pieces will not ever mend, but i'll tape them together and try to pretend.

Dear Best Friend, I meant it when I said it. The thing is, I am stuck between a rock and a soft place that you've formed in my heart. It would not be so hard at all if the rock was not the person who had the rest of my love. But it is. And the way you talk about my rock, it makes me want to scream: it makes me want to scream, "THAT IS HOW I FEEL THAT IS HOW I FEEL THAT IS HOW I FEEL" and I tried to tell you once but it was just too much. Do you remember that song from 2nd grade about the bones? Well, the heart muscle is connected to the eye muscle, Best Friend. And I tried –I tried so hard- to tell you the truth, but when I saw your ey

i don't want this night you here all teeth and heart wrong direction you're coming all wrong like a nudist i forget you're beautiful all deep exotic wine dripping down the walls you climbed like nothing had ever been so before you how terrible i'd treat you how long i'd linger on breaths hold you under my tongue like a bird or a word i refuse to let go

Believe me, they're leaving lies on the table again and between light and dark you can't see the sun do you hear the words in my madness? and here we go were seeing people again they'll tell them I'm not crazy, I'm not crazy oh no, i see the truth in everything I touch And if this truth isn't maddening then I'll tell you i don't know what is 'cause baby i just don't see signs, anymore no lines to read between anymore And the world's got you fooled again, again there's no turning back, on believing what you see here it's all lies and such madness lies and such madness, lies and such prowess (the world's) got you fooled again, a

he is the type of man that wakes up at 2 in the morning to turn the light off in his daughter's room without noticing that she is not there. the daughter is the type of girl who is never content- never content with being confined, never content with being free, never content with being home, never content with being just far enough away. she is the type of girl who is not in her bed when her father turns off the light, too busy with science experiments (what happens with just the right combination of drugs, dancing, and body heat?). she is too busy with the very best liar out of the herd of boys persuing her. the good liar is only concerned