agnes obel

in fifth grade english class we had to bring books to school.
i always forgot mine so my teacher made me read the dictionary

words on words on words i didn't understand i'd always end up staring at the ceiling tiles.

there was a word for that.

daydream [noun]: a series of pleasant thoughts that distract one's attention from the present.

at one point i felt sorry for all the other kids in my class with fiction books because i was learning more words

while they were learning more lies

maybe junie b jones just wanted to be smart.

maybe nancy drew didn't figure out the mystery.

maybe i picked the wrong path in goosebumps, well i guess you die either way

and everybody has a chapter they don't read out loud i understand that,

but you.

you left out chapter one,

and chapter six,

chapter ten, seventeen, twenty one

you left out the prologue.

and when i said read to me

you said, "just for a minute"

but to me it sounded like you just memorized the words

you said,
you said,

you said so many words that i swear used super glue to stick
themselves inside my brain

and oh how i wish i had enough acetone to get them off.

you said you were insecure because you weren't strong enough

but apparently you had the strength to lie to my face.

and i don't know if i believe the dictionary anymore,

my daydreams don't seem very pleasant

10 comments

january 12th, 2014: i haven't slept through the night in probably a year

january 19th, 2014: alright. story time.

february 2nd, 2014: okay this week didn't start off very well

july 18th, 2014: yes i know its 4 am.

july 20th, 2014: i've had way too much free time

july 24th, 2014: i miss home.

july 30th, 2014: na yalo ni noda kalou

july 31st, 2014: i never want to go home.

september 26th, 2014: most nights at 2 am i wonder where i'll be in five. ten. fifteen years. other nights at 2am i wonder if i'll make it that far.

october 18th, 2014: thats it for this week i think... JUST KIDDING I FORGOT ABOUT WEDNESDAY

october 27th, 2014: this is too happy. it doesn't feel real.

november 23rd, 2014: i had to wipe the dust off of this journal today

january 15th, 2015: "what i said about us, was the truest thing i've ever said in my life"

february 26th, 2015: he told everyone to come over asap, we all knew something bad happened.

april 4th, 2015: i'm on a plane.

june 2nd, 2014: i haven't written in so long and its giving me anxiety

june 19th, 2015: 11 days. 81 days.

june 27th, 2015: i can't help myself but regret not spending more time with him.

june 28th, 2015: man it felt so good to be back in his arms.

june 30th, 2015: time is flying.

july 1st, 2015: definitely not prepared for that. but anyways... day 1 of 730.

august 17th, 2015: i've had a really rough couple days, sometimes i think a couple weeks.

september 9th, 2015: i feel broken.

september 13th, 2015: the days drag on but they get easier. they definitely get easier.

september 27th, 2015: i'm having a writers block for my own life is that even a thing

october 11th, 2015: another goodbye.

october 27th, 2015: WHY

november 8th, 2015: i'm okay.

10 comments

boys cry

cigarettes do kill,

parents lie

boats sink

flowers die

life goes on,

with or without you.

be easy

take your time.

you are coming home to yourself.

7 comments

fear was quiet,

she kept to herself.
she was the type of girl people read books about.
fear wore a cross necklace every day
but she didn't believe in god.

fear always wore socks,
because she never knew when her feet might get cold.
she wore 3 rings
but she would never put them on her middle finger.
and she never let her feet hang off the side of the bed.

her family motto was "live to the fullest"
they thought it was clever because their last name was ful.

on her phone at family reunions,
head down in the hallways,
by herself in the lunchroom,
windows down but no music playing in the parking lot.

fear was never the type of person to believe in love,
her wallpaper on her phone proved it.
and she believed that anyone would lose their mind trying to understand hers.

but he was the type of person to call take out for her,
only every other time.
he forced her into thinking those monsters were inside her head,
not under her bed.

she started to believe that it was okay to go barefoot,
it was okay to take the sheets off for once.
fear learned that it was okay to outgrow people.

she looked for him in the hallways,
invited him to family reunions,
and fear made sure to blast her music so loud in the parking lot because she knew he would hear.

he taught her in ways no teacher could,
he loved her in ways no mother could.

when he left,
fear changed.
fear disappeared.
fear moved away,
and she changed her last name to less.

15 comments

days are going by faster now,

the nights are longer,

the morning breeze is colder.

the wind blows on my newly showered ears,

sticking to my worn out, homework drained hands.

and i want you to think.

think about how the world is crumbling around you, one building at a time.

think about how guns ring in distant lands,

and how people are breaking promises more than they're breaking bones.

think about how that little nothing,

really meant everything.

think about here and now.

and its the here and the now,

and the there and the then

but only two months ago i saw my nieces face for the first time,
and i couldn't help but think that maybe heaven is not something you need to die to get to.

and I'm still trying to hold onto this helium balloon called happiness,

but remember,

remember that we live for the sound

of the moments,

the moments that make us feel alive.

and i wonder.

i wonder if on the other side of the world,

on a dirt floor,

with a lightbulb hanging from a string,

if they can hear it too.

and every day,
i'm learning what it means to be alive,
without being whole.

9 comments

new words in old styles
tracked on a canvas of brick
scribbled by artists
who failed at art school.

a presentation of names
written incredibly wrong,
plain to the system
that failed.

we pause at a piece
written in beautiful paint
dotted so carefully
white streaked on black,
black streaked on white.

we might even pause
long enough to take a picture
of the rebellion,
the opposition.

we let them loose.
but are they to blame?

they play their own part,

and it doesn't matter because

its all a poem
the city writes to itself.

9 comments

you roll out of bed eyes too swollen to see but your mother is cooking you breakfast, trying to ease the pain.

your dad pulls you in for a hug and kisses your head but the only thing on your mind is the goodbye. the can't walk, can't talk, can't stand up, can't breathe goodbye.

nobody will protect you from your suffering. you can't cry it away or punch it away or even therapy it away. its just there, and you have to survive it. you have to endure it.

you have to live through it and love it and move on and be better for it and run as far as you can in the direction of your best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by your own desire to heal.

when your heart broke it was completely silent.

you would think as its so important it would make the loudest sound in the whole world, or even have some sort of ceremonious sound like the gong of a cymbal or the ringing of a bell.

but its silent and you almost wish there was a noise to distract you from the pain.

5 comments

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