Come all the way down with me

out behind the backstop
i smoke the stars into place.
then i continue until
they begin making sense.

call it coping.
call it destructive.
but i've already spent
a beautiful day of missing you.

Counting Down The Hours

Lying in the outfield,
watching white clouds float across a sky so blue that it could
change the color of your eyes.


Y'know how we talked about the ocean?
Well this is another one of those instances
that I don't want to wash out of my hair just yet.

The pitcher puts religion first and rests on holidays

The number 108 can be found countless places in and out of daily life. Hindu prayer beads, called Malas consist of 1o8 beads, certain martial arts practices teach that there are 108 pressure points on the human body and there are 108 stitches on a baseball. Perhaps holiness may be found wherever an individual chooses to look for it. Whether in prayer or in a vulnerable place on even the strongest or most flawless of bodies. Or even in the curveball of a talented young pitcher, stretching his limbs against a field of green to let fly a unreal throw that baffles batters and catches even a less-than-trained eye.

*******************************

Hindu deities have 108 names.

In Tibetan Buddhism it is believed that there are 108 sins. In Japan, at the end of the year a bell is chimed 108 times to welcome the new year. Each ring represents an earthly temptation that a person must overcome to reach nirvana.

Zen priests wear juzu (a string of prayer beads) around their wrist that have 108 beads.

The sum of The Numbers in LOST (4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42) is 108. 108 is also the number of minutes within which the numbers must be entered into the computer. And the number of days Oceanic 6 spent on the island.

108 is the sum of nine adjacent numbers.
8+9+10+11+12+13+14+15+16=108

In Homer's Odyssey there were 108 suitors coveting Penelope, wife of Odysseus.

The distance between the Earth and the moon is 108 times the diameter of the moon.

The distance between the Earth and the Sun is 108 times the diameter of the Sun.

San Francisco's calling us, the Giants and Mets will play

Also, aside from learning the basics,
watching you watch the game
was more interesting than watching the game itself.
It made me want to be able to experience it
the same way you do.

We hung about the stadium, we've got no place to stay

Everything about this game brings out a different side to me.
A part that I forgot existed.
Going to a big field like we did makes me feel about nine years old
and in wonder of everything around me.

Lead Me On

Dear ***, ******, and ******

It makes me sad that you're not the person you used to be

that you chose the worst part of you to accentuate

and that we'll never have what we had.

Mainly, companionship, trust and unconditional love.

Respectively.

Regretfully,

********

Frustration.

I hurt.
Burn.
An itch I can't scratch.
We can't even get close to each other
because my nerves are too raw.

And that's just on the outside.

We were standing on the hood of your car, singing out loud

I love trying to describe the
smell of you.
It's always the same
but never constant.
It makes me feel full, heady

[Heady]
-adjective

1.intoxicating

2.affecting the mind or senses greatly

3.exciting; exhilarating

4.rashly impetuous

5.violent; destructive

6.clever; shrewd

Sitting in breezy, sunlit rooms I press a t-shirt of yours to my face.
Inhale.
I hold it in my lungs as long as I can
like I'm willing it into my airstream,
my veins.
[Keeping you there like a high.]
But even I know that highs
aren't something you can hold onto from day to day.
Each one is unique- somehow unlike any other you've had before.
Like every time we're together.

Sweet smoke.
Deoderant.
Menthol.
Summer.
The soap you use and the woods early in the morning.
Like it might need washed,
but not in a bad way.
Just tired.
Your vices lingering on the hems
and your ache for a life larger than you in the threads.

Take A Ride: While we still have time

If you only once would let me,
only just one time
and be happy with the consequence
of whatever's gonna happen tonight.
Don't think we're not serious.
When's it ever not?
The love we make, it's give and it's take;
I'm game to play along.

It was foolish of me
to think that things
wouldn't be at least a little different
afterward,
wasn't it?
Wrists and hands
and being so conscious of breathing.
For some reason I supposed
lives would just go on the same way
they always have before.
Cool, marble counters.
I can't stop wondering
if you've thought about it
as much as I have.
Warm, dizzy thoughts.
I don't regret a thing.
Regrets are a waste of time.
Plus, why bother regretting something
that you enjoyed doing?

Everybody's been there and I don't mean on vacation

Silliest weekend ever.
Friday, Kate came over and we hung out all day. It was a lot of fun.
Ponyo loves ham.
In case you weren't aware.
Then we walked around Greensburg until we ended up at the Rialto Cafe.
This adorable little Italian place.
Mike met up with us and after we ate we went back to my house for a while longer.

The next morning I woke up with what appeared to be a pretty nasty bug bite on the inside of my forearm. The bump was pretty big and there was a clearly defined red circle about an inch in diameter around it.
I rubbed so stuff on it to make the swelling go down and took a Benedryl, assuming it would be gone within a couple of days.
The next day the bump was bigger, the circle had expanded to two inches wide and it was incredibly sore if I accidentally bumped it or touched the surrounding area. I was going to let it go for one more day to see if it got better and then go to the doctor, but throughout the day it just got worse. So at 12 last night Mike and I packed into the car and went to the Emergency Room, where we were seen at 3.3o am.

Now. I understand there were probably people in that place who had much worse than a bug bite and therefore needed medical attention more drastically than me, but c'mon, three and a half hours?
We were moved to two different rooms. The second one was cozier. A cozy as a hospital room can be, I guess. I don't know, I like hospitals. I feel safe there. They'll take care of me. We turned most of the lights off and I curled up in the bed and Mike sat in a chair next to me and held my hand while I dozed. I was tired and kept saying, "They didn't put an IV in me, I'm not staying the night. I'm not staying." Because I really wanted to believe that this was just a simple little doctor visit to get a shot and a prescription and go home.
It didn't really work out that way.
The doctor finally came in and poked and prodded and looked concerned. He was nice and told me that whatever it had started out as, the "bug bite" had progressed to the beginning stages of MRSA. He came back with a tray of shiny tools and explained what he was going to do.
He was going to shoot the area full of novacaine and then open it up to get all the bad stuff out.
The shot hurt like hell.
It burned and ached and it was really horrible.
And then I accidentally saw what he was going to use to cut it open.
Y'know those medical dramas where they cut the person open in surgery and sometimes you just can't watch?
It was like that.
Then he stuffed it full of packing and I have to go to another doctor and have him change the packing and I'm not looking forward to it, because it already just aches and aches all the time under the big white bandage.
I'm no stranger to emergency room procedures. I'm one of those kids who's gone in a billion times for everything; near fatal fevers, vomiting, broken bones, a nine day migraine trip where they gave me so much morphine I thought my brain was going to float too close to the sun and pop. This was by far the most traumatic hospital trip I've ever had.

I hate bugs.

Bullet Soul

Yet we keep going to war.
What battle could possibly be more important
than a moment like this?

Eternal youth is the landscape of a lie

I met you at an end-of-summer party.
The end of a great three months, all anyone wanted to do was have a good time.

You found a home in all your scars and ammunition...
Ashes to ashes of our youth

Your name, your age, everything about you is a complete mystery to me.
You had green eyes and dark hair.
And big hands.
You could have been an honor student. Maybe you're a doctor now. You could be Superman.
I don't give a damn.
In five minutes that stretched into an eternity you made the biggest mistake of my life.
In my mind, that's who you'll always be.

She smashed her knuckles into winter
as autumn's wind fades into black

I was ruined for a while.
The thing about an event like this is that it distorts everything.
The way you look at your friends, your family, at boys,
at school, at food, at your stuffed animals and cd's.
Everything that just a few days ago was familiar suddenly seems foreign, changed.
Like someone came into your life and rearranged the things there and you come back to find it all the same, but looking completely different.
Like a burglary. Something is out of place but you can't quite put your finger on it.
But most of all, it distorts the way you see yourself.
I stopped eating. Started hurting myself. It was stupid.
Like your drunken behavior could ever be worth my life.
I started hunting down boys like it was my job, to prove that I could be powerful, too.
I didn't have relationships.
Cheating, picking fights, cruel, undeserved words; I sabotaged the threats of any healthy relationships, squashing them as soon as I felt myself falling.
I had conquests.
I had a list and I quickly ran my fingers down the page and crossed off each one.

Don't lose your faith to your lost naivete
Weather the storm and don't look back on last November
when your banners were burning down

I ran into you once. At a concert.
You didn't remember me, but how could I forget you?
We talked.

Bring us the season we will always remember
Don't let the bonfires go out

I met this boy at a New Year's Eve party. The start of an amazing new year, all anyone wanted to do was have a good time.
He respected me and made me laugh and we became friends.
Friends became more than that and he so easily could have been a name added to that list.
But he wasn't.
He made me happy, made me feel good about myself when we were together, instead of empty, like all the other boys.
He made me want to be a better person.
He made me want to be better for him,
but more importantly, he made me want to be better for me.
He still does.

This is why we're on the edge;
the fight of our life's been drawn in this undying love.