Skeptical Beauties

The girl sitting next to me wants a tattoo of a cherry blossom on her back and I'm jelous because I wish I'd thought of that. All I can dream of are peace signs and henna.
Long haired girl with high water and grey flannel socks stood in front of the class 40 minutes ago. She is the kind of girl my boyfriend would make fun of but the more I look at her the more beauty I see behind those brass rimmed glasses. She is hiding under layers of Goodwill clothes and selling candy bars to skinny bitches to raise money for anime club. She is brilliant but she stuttered through that 20 minute presentation about Japan. Her cheeks grew redder and redder and I wished she'd look at me so I could smile at her with my eyes. So I could send her golden rays of reassurance from accross this stoney morning classroom.
She is the kind of girl who never hears she's beautiful,
and if you tell her she'll only think you're lying.
God bless the skeptical beauties. They are walking tragedies I pass in the hall e.v.e.r.y.d.a.y.

I swore I would workout yesterday but I didn't. Instead I did someone elses final exam and ate three bowls of white chili. My brown eyed boyfriend rang the doorbell for the first time and I saw how firmly my stepdad shook his hand.
I geuss chilvary's making a comeback
Just in time<3

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fears of the future

It's almost midnight on a Tuesday and there are a million things I could be doing instead of sitting at this kitchen table pounding words onto my blog. Feeling my toes brush the cold tile of my grandmas condo. Licking calorie filled drops of chocolate ice cream off a tiny spoon and knowing I will regret it later.
I could be studying for exams. But of course that would be useless. These numbers have been drilled into my head for months and nothing's stuck. No, I'm not dumb. I'm actually pretty intelligent, but I can't stop my fingers from sketching peace signs on all those practice Tax Forms and Chapter Tests. I can't block out the poems streaming from my anxious pen when I should be watching pastel colored power points. I'm a hopeless dreamer and I'm praying this disease isn't fatal. This senioritis that has infected me quickly. College applications are scattered throughout my universe and I want to fill them all out perfectly but I feel much to young to answer these questions. I'm dying to be on my own, to make something of myself. To be a writer, a singer, a wish granting hippie a sight seeing gypsy a librarian who smiles with her eyes and smells like coffee. I'm aching for the world. All of it. Every inch of this pretty planet. I want to step out on my own but oh,
moving my feet seems so hard to do.
And the minutes are flying by and my eyelids are getting heavy with all this talk of the future
So I suppose it's time for me to surrender to dreams.
Tomorrow morning will come too soon and be too cold but still
i adore this reality. <3

A Familiar Voice

Tan knuckles knocked on an oak door in a suburban cul-de-sac. Marissa’s blue eyes glanced sideways into the mirror. She smiled; for once there was no brace-faced child staring back at her. She hardly recognized this young woman with silk gloves up to her elbows. She was a poet in a prom dress anticipating a night that would fill her hungry pen with inspiration.
“Marissa! For crying out loud!” her mother wailed, “He’s here,” her last word fading into an excited whisper.
“DAH! Okay, okay,” she hissed back. She briskly turned off the bathroom light and walked towards the steep stairs. She took a deep breath, paused, and lifted her red stiletto off the ground. Marissa descended the stairs, countless movie scenes running through her head. She prayed through parted ruby lips that when Nick saw her, he heard music.
At the foot of the stairs Nick stood patiently, foot tapping on the wooden floor and hands shoved in the pockets of his tux. When he heard the clicking of Marissa’s heels he looked up. For a moment she was suspended, gloved hand delicately resting on the stair rail. Silence filled the house as they stared at each other- sharing a stolen moment no photograph could capture or lyric could express. The spring rain fell softly and the universe applauded.
“SMILE!” her mother screeched, and it was gone. Their instant of mutual passion evaporated into a million prom pictures and stereotypical poses: his arm around her waist and her hand glued to his chest, her carefully pinning a fading white rose to his midnight tux, the two of them joined by and scattered amidst twenty tan friends while a whirlwind of eager parents rejoiced in digital camera bliss. They filled their Canons and Kodaks until everyone’s cheeks were sore with artificial happiness.
The two of them walked to the car silently. Nick held a plaid umbrella over her golden hair and opened the car door while Marissa slid in and kicked off her heels. She placed pedicured feet on the dashboard and threw her head back in relaxation. As Nick made his way to the driver’s seat, Marissa faded into deep thought. Visions of crowded dance floors and first kisses filled her mind until her shrill ring tone erupted in the peaceful silence.
“Heeeello?” Marissa chirped.
“Hey baby,” a familiar voice met her from the other end of the line. Too familiar. The last time she had heard that voice it had been a crystal winter, screaming words most would consider unforgivable. Screaming words meant to bring a sixteen year old girl to her knees.
“Hey daddy,” Marissa was quiet, a faint whisper in the humid spring heat. Her breaths were making tiny clouds of smoke on the rain covered window as she rested her forehead on its cold surface and dug her nails into the soft car seat.
“I…I miss you, Marissa. And I… I just wanted to call you and tell you to…” he was unable to finish. His words got stuck in his throat and the sound of a grown man crying chilled Marissa to the bone.
“…to have a good time at prom,” he finished. Marissa bit her lip and willed glistening tears to sink back into her heart where they belonged. Her eyes looked far too pretty lined with all that charcoal to spill tears for her father on prom night.
“Ok daddy,” she inhaled deeply and dabbed at the corner of her eyes with the tip of her gloves, “I will.”
“I love you Marissa.”
Silence.
“I love you too daddy…I love you too.”
The words tasted hot and bitter and she had been aching to speak them for far too long. She had not seen his face for months now. She had not been his baby girl for even longer.
With the click of a button Marissa ended the phone call that had filled her mind with foggy memories of a home she used to know. Of a father she used to make proud. Of a life she could no longer grasp no matter how far she reached or how beautiful she looked in that two hundred dollar gown. Nick reached over and wound his fingers around hers- she had completely forgotten he was there. He heard every word and suddenly she was drowning in a sea of embarrassment. When she looked at him his eyes showered her in understanding and she laughed in spite of herself.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah…”
She looked out the window and then turned to meet his eyes again,
“I am. I just… I didn’t see that coming you know?”
“I know. What did he want?”
“He wanted me to…” Marissa sniffled and released his hand so that she could wipe her eyes yet again. A sob exploded in her throat and her shoulders began to heave as she battled the sadness.
“It’s okay babe. It’s okay,” Nick stumbled over his words. He would have given anything to stop those tears. To erase that phone call. To rewind back to when she stood at the top of those stairs and he could have sworn he heard music.
“He wanted me to have a good time at prom.”
“Well,” a smile began to spread across Nick’s face and he reached over to Marissa. He grasped her chin with icy fingers and turned her blue eyes to meet his, “Then have a good time at prom.”