Standing over the bathroom sink,
Staring in the mirror
I can't help but notice how weary my eyes look
For such a young girl
And I can't help but notice that the tears are there,
Even when I don't remember having cried them,
Or ever feeling them trickle down my pale cheeks.
It's become hard to discern what i cry about these days...
i think i make up reasons in my mind
i hate to admit that i still cry over you sometimes
i cry because i dont live up to my own expectations
i cry because i hate feeling alone
i just cry
*
she was so beautful
and i remember the last pair of jeans that she bought me
i remember we used to jog through the cemetary, me and her
and then we would laugh because we'd find ourselves feasting on Girl Scout cookies when we got home.
Some diet, huh?
she was tough on me
and i hated it
sometimes i hated her
that one stupid fight we had that one morning
before school,
the last time i told her that i loved her,
is still a soggy memory in my haunted past
after i got on the bus that day,
things were never the same.
mom, i do love you.
*
i guess there will always be the jonathan higdons of the world,
who can do everything a little bit better
and are always quick to criticize...
at 8:23 in the morning,
i gave you a smile and a cupcake that i worked so hard to bake,
and even though it was a little burnt,
it could have relished a "thank you" or a little white lie about its tastiness,
but once more in my life,
you reminded me of my faults...
that i would never be as good a programmer as you,
that i would never be able to do something as simple as bake,
and that maybe i would never really be good at anything at all
and then there's the laura gavios of the world,
with their perfect teeth and perfect hair
who i envied through all my high school years
and bumping into you in the mall and listening to you drone on and on
about how you graduated (and i still havent) and how your always-perfect life is still perfect...
made me put down my head in defeat once again
i can never be good enough
*
Thoughts of you... they could be so many things
They could open old wounds, or make me laugh, or long...
But they are never unattached from bittersweet remembrance
Maybe if we never shared that moment,
That life-changing moment of truth,
There on the boardwalk where my dreams fell apart
And left me by myself,
Without you,
For the first time in years...
The moment where my heartbeat froze in my chest
And it seemed like the beach, yes, even the beach --
turned cold and dark;
Maybe today i wouldn't appreciate what its like to be independent, and free...
but still,
it was nice to have someone there..
to have you there.
*
living on bagels and diet pills
i still dont fit the image i want to have
what do all those girls have that makes them have someone to go home to at night?
what makes them have someone who cares,
someone who gives them something to look forward to everyday?
what is it going to take
and yet i never let them see
i bragged about how strong i was
about how it felt good to be independent,
and that i didnt need anybody
i looked like this tough girl
who wasn't going to break
who could smile through any storm
at the light at the intersection of the boulevard and butler st.,
i broke down
no one saw
no one knew
no one would have stopped to notice
and i dont know why i cried
and i didn't know how to stop
i think the best moments in life,
are not necessary the happiest ones...
i think my best moments are the ones
immediately following the happy ones...
the ones where the happiness faded,
and you spend all the remaining moments
trying to make them live up to the one before...
i think those are the moments that make a person strong
i think the moments i fell apart
were also the ones where i realized something about my life...
and i'm thankful for them.
but then there's these moments,
like tonight...
where i dont know where to go
and its so easy to just lie in bed and hold my stuffed animals tight,
and cry...
and i'm left weary,
and i havent solved anything when the storm is over...
all i can do is chalk it up to another shitty day
and hope tomorrow will be better
Staring in the mirror
I can't help but notice how weary my eyes look
For such a young girl
And I can't help but notice that the tears are there,
Even when I don't remember having cried them,
Or ever feeling them trickle down my pale cheeks.
It's become hard to discern what i cry about these days...
i think i make up reasons in my mind
i hate to admit that i still cry over you sometimes
i cry because i dont live up to my own expectations
i cry because i hate feeling alone
i just cry
*
she was so beautful
and i remember the last pair of jeans that she bought me
i remember we used to jog through the cemetary, me and her
and then we would laugh because we'd find ourselves feasting on Girl Scout cookies when we got home.
Some diet, huh?
she was tough on me
and i hated it
sometimes i hated her
that one stupid fight we had that one morning
before school,
the last time i told her that i loved her,
is still a soggy memory in my haunted past
after i got on the bus that day,
things were never the same.
mom, i do love you.
*
i guess there will always be the jonathan higdons of the world,
who can do everything a little bit better
and are always quick to criticize...
at 8:23 in the morning,
i gave you a smile and a cupcake that i worked so hard to bake,
and even though it was a little burnt,
it could have relished a "thank you" or a little white lie about its tastiness,
but once more in my life,
you reminded me of my faults...
that i would never be as good a programmer as you,
that i would never be able to do something as simple as bake,
and that maybe i would never really be good at anything at all
and then there's the laura gavios of the world,
with their perfect teeth and perfect hair
who i envied through all my high school years
and bumping into you in the mall and listening to you drone on and on
about how you graduated (and i still havent) and how your always-perfect life is still perfect...
made me put down my head in defeat once again
i can never be good enough
*
Thoughts of you... they could be so many things
They could open old wounds, or make me laugh, or long...
But they are never unattached from bittersweet remembrance
Maybe if we never shared that moment,
That life-changing moment of truth,
There on the boardwalk where my dreams fell apart
And left me by myself,
Without you,
For the first time in years...
The moment where my heartbeat froze in my chest
And it seemed like the beach, yes, even the beach --
turned cold and dark;
Maybe today i wouldn't appreciate what its like to be independent, and free...
but still,
it was nice to have someone there..
to have you there.
*
living on bagels and diet pills
i still dont fit the image i want to have
what do all those girls have that makes them have someone to go home to at night?
what makes them have someone who cares,
someone who gives them something to look forward to everyday?
what is it going to take
and yet i never let them see
i bragged about how strong i was
about how it felt good to be independent,
and that i didnt need anybody
i looked like this tough girl
who wasn't going to break
who could smile through any storm
at the light at the intersection of the boulevard and butler st.,
i broke down
no one saw
no one knew
no one would have stopped to notice
and i dont know why i cried
and i didn't know how to stop
i think the best moments in life,
are not necessary the happiest ones...
i think my best moments are the ones
immediately following the happy ones...
the ones where the happiness faded,
and you spend all the remaining moments
trying to make them live up to the one before...
i think those are the moments that make a person strong
i think the moments i fell apart
were also the ones where i realized something about my life...
and i'm thankful for them.
but then there's these moments,
like tonight...
where i dont know where to go
and its so easy to just lie in bed and hold my stuffed animals tight,
and cry...
and i'm left weary,
and i havent solved anything when the storm is over...
all i can do is chalk it up to another shitty day
and hope tomorrow will be better
