31.1.13

Bry called me last night.
On his birthday.
Our first one apart.
And he was very very sad.
And it slowly turned into him crying.
About how alone he is and hates it.
And how he hates sleeping alone.
And I cried with him because I feel it, too.

So sad, I wish that I was there for his birthday.
I told him that when I have a hard time sleeping,
I think back on our last night together.
And remember how comfortable it felt.
And I pretend I'm there.

It was 7:30 in the morning.

It's funny because I was anxious throughout the night.
That'd he'd be at a bar and just try and pick up chicks for his birthday.
But he called me instead.
It's also funny that he is having a hard time sleeping alone.
Because he never did when we were together but slept apart for a night or so.
And I would always be the one pining and aching for him.
And he would talk to me on the phone and say it's okay why am I upset.
But now he feels it, too.

He's always going to be here in me.
He'll always be living in my pocket.
I always feel like there's something missing.
And I know it's him.
Because I left some of myself with him back in California.
I'll always love him.
And it's always going to hurt to think of him with we're apart.
I'll always have this part that is pulling me away from where I am.
Trying to drag me back across the country.
To lay my head on his chest.

30.1.13

In love.
Out love.
In love.
Out love.
Who likes.
Tha push shove.
In love.
And out love.

The try.
The failure you become.
You try.
The failure you become.
It's high.
It's only what you have done.
The try.
And the failure you become.

I like.
My hand on my gun.
I like.
The hand on my gun.
You cry.
But you never give some.
I like.
The hand that's on my gun.

Chewing gum that burns my throat.
Burning thumbs that tell ya so.
Telling things ya never mean.
What a false spit that you hear from me .

28.1.13

I find myself bitter.
$300 you still owe me.
$300 of I'll pay you back.
When I was so broke paying the bills.
The gas that I used to drive you everywhere.
To pay your payments on credit cards.
I spent the money on you because I was expecting it back.

And I didn't get laid.
It pisses me the fuck off how I slaved and was never touched with love.
And the expression nor passion was too present.
I still have such resentment towards him.
I will never see him again.
He has $600 to pay to get his license back.
Sloppy fuck that spends his money like a sloppy fuck.

I've got to forget him.
What is this friendship other than hope to gain the respect I never received.

And on another note, Juliana is a failure.
Who gave you the life you have now?
Enjoy taking my spot.
I got bored and left it.

Santa Cruz is filled with such small minds.
Judgmental mistake makers.

When I visit, most won't know.
They'll see me, they'll gossip.
More and more stories without veracity flowing about.
Talk about me, talk.
Your ugly words out of your ugly vaseline lined mouths.
Greasy spit dripping down your chin.

They're all so un alluring as time continues.
Silently bitter.

Asking me what I've been up to, and I've got stories to tell.
I ask you the same, and you keep saying, oh, you know, same old same.

Same old same. Same old brain.
My love is only imaginary.
For something that don't exist.
You weren't good for my gravity.
Now a memory on my list.
I remember again.
Why I left him.

I will never get what I deserve.
From someone so empathetically reserved.

26.1.13

No one is attractive.
With a big booty.
Led Zeppelin in their ears.
And amazing chops.
And a thick mustache.
And class.

What do I do.

Me, Misha, and Minn.

23.1.13

  • Today
  • Mashka Gallant


    Found this poem online, it describes things quite well 


    “I wish I was a photograph
    tucked into the corners of your wallet
    I wish I was a photograph
    you carried like a future in your back pocket
    I wish I was that face you show to strangers
    when they ask you where you come from
    I wish I was that someone that you come from
    every time you get there
    and when you get there
    I wish I was that someone who got phone calls
    and postcards saying
    wish you were here
    I wish you were here
    autumn is the hardest season
    the leaves are all falling
    and they’re falling like they’re falling in love with the ground
    and the trees are naked and lonely
    I keep trying to tell them
    new leaves will come around in the spring
    but you can’t tell trees those things
    they’re like me they just stand there
    and don’t listen

    I wish you were here
    I’ve been missing you like crazy
    I’ve been hazy eyed
    staring at the bottom of my glass again
    thinking of that time when it was so full
    it was like we were tapping the moon for moonshine
    or sticking straws into the center of the sun
    and sipping like icarus would forever kiss
    the bullets from our guns

    I never meant to fire you know
    I know you never meant to fire love
    I know we never meant to hurt each other
    now the sky clicks from black to blue
    and dusk looks like a bruise
    I’ve been wrapping one night stands
    around my body like wedding bands
    but none of them fit in the morning
    they just slip off my fingers and slip out the door
    and all that lingers is the scent of you
    I once swore if I threw that scent into a wishing well
    all the wishes in the world would come true
    do you remember

    do you remember the night I told you
    I’ve never seen anything more perfect than
    than snow falling in the glow of a street light
    electricity bowing to nature
    mind bowing to heartbeat
    this is gonna hurt bowing to I love you
    I still love you like moons love the planets they circle around
    like children love recess bells
    I still hear the sound of you
    and think of playgrounds
    where outcasts who stutter
    beneath braces and bruises and acne
    are finally learning that their rich handsome bullies
    are never gonna grow up to be happy
    I think of happy when I think of you

    so wherever you are I hope you’re happy
    I really do
    I hope the stars are kissing your cheeks tonight
    I hope you finally found a way to quit smoking
    I hope your lungs are open and breathing your life
    I hope there’s a kite in your hand
    that’s flying all the way up to orion
    and you still got a thousand yards of string to let out
    I hope you’re smiling
    like god is pulling at the corners of your mouth
    cause I might be naked and lonely
    shaking branches for bones
    but I’m still time zones away
    from who I was the day before we met
    you were the first mile
    where my heart broke a sweat
    and I wish you were here
    I wish you’d never left
    but mostly I wish you well
    I wish you my very very best”
    — Photograph, by Andrea Gibson


      • Mashka Gallant


        Ugh, it huuuuuuuuuuuuurts.
        But at least I can always think of these things fondly.
        But it's all so true, she even knows about pockets.
        • Bryan Shelton

          lol
          i should make you a little action figure
          • Mashka Gallant

            That would be so perfect.
            • Bryan Shelton

              yeah, i gotta be up early toot. workin at my mom's office tomorrow.
              • Mashka Gallant


                It has to include a realistic mustache and chest hair, though.
                And hair so I can scratch your head.
                And a memory foam booty.
                • Bryan Shelton

                  i didn't get the job i'm just working there tomorrow
                  but i'll text you in the morning
                  • Mashka Gallant

                    Ohz, you didn't :c okay, well good night, Fruityz.
                    • Bryan Shelton

                      hopefully i'll get it. but i'm doing some unrelated work in the same office tomorrow.
                      good night toot. we'll talk tomorrow.
                      • Mashka Gallant

                        Okay, well good luck, talk to you tomorrowz
                        • Bryan Shelton


                          no, i just haven't heard yet
                          that was a nice poem, thanks.
                          • Bryan Shelton

                            good thing to read right before bed. hopefully my dreams will be as beautiful.
                            Good night.
                            • Mashka Gallant

                              Aw, Toots, I'll try and meet you in them. Night.

                            22.1.13

                            I wish I was a photograph
                            tucked into the corners of your wallet
                            I wish I was a photograph
                            you carried like a future in your back pocket
                            I wish I was that face you show to strangers
                            when they ask you where you come from
                            I wish I was that someone that you come from
                            every time you get there
                            and when you get there
                            I wish I was that someone who got phone calls
                            and postcards saying
                            wish you were here

                            I wish you were here
                            autumn is the hardest season
                            the leaves are all falling
                            and they’re falling like they’re falling in love with the ground
                            and the trees are naked and lonely
                            I keep trying to tell them
                            new leaves will come around in the spring
                            but you can’t tell trees those things
                            they’re like me they just stand there
                            and don’t listen

                            I wish you were here
                            I’ve been missing you like crazy
                            I’ve been hazy eyed
                            staring at the bottom of my glass again
                            thinking of that time when it was so full
                            it was like we were tapping the moon for moonshine
                            or sticking straws into the center of the sun
                            and sipping like icarus would forever kiss
                            the bullets from our guns

                            I never meant to fire you know
                            I know you never meant to fire love
                            I know we never meant to hurt each other
                            now the sky clicks from black to blue
                            and dusk looks like a bruise
                            I’ve been wrapping one night stands
                            around my body like wedding bands
                            but none of them fit in the morning
                            they just slip off my fingers and slip out the door
                            and all that lingers is the scent of you
                            I once swore if I threw that scent into a wishing well
                            all the wishes in the world would come true
                            do you remember

                            do you remember the night I told you
                            I’ve never seen anything more perfect than
                            than snow falling in the glow of a street light
                            electricity bowing to nature
                            mind bowing to heartbeat
                            this is gonna hurt bowing to I love you
                            I still love you like moons love the planets they circle around
                            like children love recess bells
                            I still hear the sound of you
                            and think of playgrounds
                            where outcasts who stutter
                            beneath braces and bruises and acne
                            are finally learning that their rich handsome bullies
                            are never gonna grow up to be happy
                            I think of happy when I think of you

                            so wherever you are I hope you’re happy
                            I really do
                            I hope the stars are kissing your cheeks tonight
                            I hope you finally found a way to quit smoking
                            I hope your lungs are open and breathing your life
                            I hope there’s a kite in your hand
                            that’s flying all the way up to orion
                            and you still got a thousand yards of string to let out
                            I hope you’re smiling
                            like god is pulling at the corners of your mouth
                            cause I might be naked and lonely
                            shaking branches for bones
                            but I’m still time zones away
                            from who I was the day before we met
                            you were the first mile
                            where my heart broke a sweat
                            and I wish you were here
                            I wish you’d never left
                            but mostly I wish you well
                            I wish you my very very best
                            Photograph, by Andrea Gibson 

                            21.1.13

                            Well, nothing is simple.
                            There are things untold.
                            And these things can make me look like a quick fool.

                            I'll keep my excitement to myself.

                            16.1.13

                            Also.
                            I had to stop myself from throwing up twice today.
                            Only because I already took my expensive vitamins.

                            But I really can't do that anymore.
                            Every time I do it.
                            No matter the distance in between.
                            My body feels the rott instantly.

                            It no longer takes weeks to murder me quick.

                            I may no longer resort to that.
                            So when I have these episodes of gluttony, I must suffer them.
                            And when I wake so nauseous,
                            I will remember self control.
                            I will remember that I am above my impulses.
                            Only if I allow myself to be.

                            And I also must remind myself.
                            That I will find my stomping ground here.
                            I may have taken over Santa Cruz.
                            But New York will take me a moment or two.
                            But I've got it.
                            As long as I've got my true self.


                            Skyped with Bry for hours this morning.
                            It was as if we were simply hanging out.
                            As if we woke up together.
                            I am the one that he texts as he wakes.
                            The one he thinks of.
                            I don't even have to mention the vise versa, do I?
                            I unpacked my pipes, found broken pieces.
                            But easily fixed, and I did so.
                            After my heart lurched out of my body,
                            And I sobbed violently for a moment.
                            And he's there watching me die.
                            Pleading me not to.
                            But as I sat there super gluing, I felt better.
                            We smoked a bowl together.
                            I left California weed in Christopher because I knew I'd love the surprise.
                            And the flavor, oh my!

                            As bed time arises, so do my thoughts of him.
                            As I lay down, I see he's texted to ask if I'm still up.
                            I am the one that he thinks of before bed.
                            And do I even have to tell you that it's vise versa?

                            Walter even skyped me.
                            Because he was on Valium.
                            I looked like an ugly wreck, and I hope that was good.
                            Bethany wouldn't have approved, he said.
                            Because she thinks I'm in love with him!!!!!
                            In love with him!!!
                            Who wrote poems about who?
                            He told me that it will be hard for him to sleep without his girl.
                            I am the one that he came to in loneliness.

                            Why do boys always put me in the middle of their relationships?
                            You're not important enough to me to destroy a relationship.
                            None of you.
                            I left Santa Cruz right in time.
                            The boys have changed so much.
                            But at least they've got tha good times to remember!
                            And so do I.

                            Days before childish whispers.
                            That left me bitter.
                            And left them blind.

                            13.1.13

                            FIne, I love you.
                            I pine for you.

                            12.1.13

                            DESTROYED
                            I AM UTTERLY DESTROYED


                            I've been here on the floor
                            writhing
                            grinding
                            twisting this bed apart
                            screaming as quiet as i can
                            saying his name out loud
                            begging that he was here
                            the pain is so fucking
                            so fucking tumultuous 
                            it's eating me
                            it's eating me physically
                            it's taking me into such an oblivion
                            i
                            sent him aphoto from tumblr
                            and i didnt realize that it sent him mine
                            and he
                            read all of these thigns
                            and is so upset right now

                            but i've been crying for him
                            who 
                            wh
                            i
                            ive
                            been
                            trying to explain
                            myself
                            and the
                            meaningfulness of himself upon me







                            I've now made him cold
                            and broken my heart even further
                            i was almost calmed and alseep


                            and now I don't think i'll shut my eyes tonught

                            oh man
                            this pain man
                            ohn man
                            this is so gnarly
                            i wish i could talk to just someone
                            Its so haed
                            it's so fucking hard i
                            feel so writhing
                            he 
                            oh man
                            what do i do


                            i ran away,
                            and it chased me

                            Sleep has turned to writhing.
                            Stan is a boy.
                            Blake's friend.
                            What an obvious lust he has.
                            But I've heard a painful story behind him.
                            And though the lust is pathetic in my vision.
                            I have respect for him.

                            But today.
                            This early evening.
                            As I text Bryan.
                            I look over.
                            And Stan lays upon the couch.
                            The back of his head towards me.
                            As I see him sink, his eyebrows come from his forehead.
                            And it looked like Bryan.


                            It looked like Bryan for the split of a small second.
                            And my heart threw itself out of my chest.
                            And onto the floor.
                            I almost picked it up and threw it upon him.

                            But, no.
                            I realized almost as quick as the foolery came.
                            It was not him.
                            Oh, and I had to pick my heart up from the floor.
                            And put the dusty thing back inside.

                            It withered.
                            The dust was toxic to my veins.
                            The pain surged straight on throughout.
                            And brought blood through my tears.


                            The fucking feeling of having you here for one second.
                            Was such ecstasy.
                            I almost lurched myself on you.
                            I almost grabbed you hair and scratched your skull.
                            Kissed your warm, soft brown face that I love.
                            The warm mahogany eyes that penetrate something inside of me.
                            That controls the deepest of pleasure and deepest of pains.










                            I will now lie here.
                            And I will weep.
                            For what?
                            For that night where everything felt like all of the passion.
                            The second that we finally kissed again is burned and singed into my brain.
                            It's embossed into my grooves.
                            The feeling of touching you.
                            Fucking fuck fuck fuck
                            I'm grinding in this singing fire that eats me so alive.

                            How can you shoot a bullet straight through me across the country.
                            How can you be so addicting that no is worth a swipe of skin.

                            How can i have left you three months ago.
                            And only now feel the ache.
                            The ache of craving you.


                            I'm writhing in this bed.
                            I twist in my sheets.
                            I'm always crying at night.
                            I say your name out loud.
                            It helps me none.

                            11.1.13

                            SHUT UP
                            I WANT TO BREAK BONES
                            YOUR NAME UNKOWN
                            GUNS ARE SURELY BLOWN
                            AS I'M WALKING HOME

                            DEEP DOWN IN BED STUY
                            I'M STILL FEELING THE GRINDING UP HIGH
                            I'LL TAKE YA ON A SLY RIDE
                            BRING ME MY BLOOD UNTIL I DIE

                            PET MY NECK
                            WITH YOUR TEETH, RESPECT
                            MY BELIEFS, I'M AT
                            TIME MOST COMFORTABLY SPENT

                            NAILS INTO YOUR SKIN 
                            TO LET YOU IN THE BEGIN
                            I'M SORRY, BUT YOU'LL ALWAY WIN
                            NOBODY IS SOFTER THAN YOUR SIN


                            That ain't so bad to me.
                            Why am I so addicted to your steam.
                            You're the only thing.
                            That I'd ever want to need.
                            At least at this time.
                            I ought to let you go in the quickest of times.
                            But I hold on so.
                            Because I'm addicted to the perfection that leaves me gold




                            FUUUUUUUUUUCK.
                            FUUUUUUUUUUCKING FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.
                            FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.
                            CAN I FUCKING FUCK THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY FUCKING FUCKIN FRAYED 
                            BRAIN THAT FUCKS THA INSANE AND MAKES IT GAINS THE PAIN
                            AND DRILL IT DEEP INSIDE AS I SAY
                            GET THE FUCK AWAY
                            IT ONNLY MAKES IT SO MUCH MORE INSIDE TODAY 

                            FUCK THA FUCK AWAY
                            FUCK THA FUCK AWAY


                            I






























































                            fell in love with you again.
                            God fucking fuck my fuck damnit if I could explain the cure of tha White Stripes anything that is involved with Jack White, if serves the bleed.
                            Since when am I doing Xanax two nights in a row.

                            I had only done it once before.
                            And that was only to calm a cocaine heart attack.

                            10.1.13

                            The pain of love and new found unnecessary loyalty is a sharp pain in my chest as I sit with friends attempting to enjoy my time as I was so previously. Years are suppressed, and they burn in m breasts as I wish I caressed the warm one I loved best.
                            I wonder where the painting I made with my blood went.

                            8.1.13

                            This is all so strong.
                            I just.
                            I just ache in my chest.
                            I feel as if.
                            Well.
                            I feel heartbreak, I guess.
                            I didn't feel it until Bryan and I actually had to say goodbye.
                            And.
                            Man, that's what breaking up must really be like.
                            Really saying goodbye, and it being the real end.
                            We broke up but stayed friends.
                            And I felt quite content.
                            But knowing that I'm losing this boy is killing me.
                            Losing Elliot, too.
                            God fucking.

                            Cigarettes help my brain calm down.
                            I.

                            I just don't want to let go, though.
                            I don't want to accept this loss.