Jaded. Fragmented. Fallen.
Always Rising.

Tuesday, October 18, 2005
08:28 p.m.
staring out at the city lights,
her heart doesn't skip in anticipation of another flight.
another place to land.
is instead, wistfully dreaming. longing.
desiring to be loved.
and she is.

it's a quiet night in the city.
no sirens reach her ears.
not much traffic. not much happening.
just the soft distant twinkle of amber lights.
of direction. and solitude in the silence.
in the kraziness.
she turns back to her corner of the world.
remembers that she must water her plants.
her music is on. her desk a mess.
she sighs as her bare feet glide across the cool floor.
another night alone.
she wonders how she'll tempt herself to sleep tonight.
dreams of him perhaps.
they seem so real. so vivid when he's not around.
when his arm isn't draped over her.
comforting her. holding her in her dreams. of cologne and a day's work.
how the night just never seemed long enough.
i guess it never was
because here she is alone
and it is here that she will return when this play has been told.
when the cast all bows and exits

she will exit alone.
-alysia-

Tuesday, October 18, 2005
08:24 p.m.
she's sitting there. soft music. playing softly.
eating another dinner outta a box.
a giant glass of water covered in lil oranges.

she wonders if they're happy.
wonders why the plastic food making people put peas in lasagne.

outside the world surrounds her.
the noise frum the tv downstairs threatens at her door.
but it's no more scary than her thoughts.
she wonders if her life is just a fool's lullaby.
she moves all the peas into the corner of the box.
sticks her tongue out at them.

there. she can control that much.
thinks a bit and then puts the peas in her mouth.
at least she's doing sumthing good for herself.
-alysia-

Tuesday, October 18, 2005
08:21 p.m.
sipping peppermint tea she realizes that she woke up.
realizes that maybe life isn't about the sunshine and roses.
maybe it is about the fear.
about the trials. about the falls.

she's fallen a lot.

doesn't know how she manages to get up.
but she does.
she does. and it's expected. by her.
by those around her. those that don't even know her.
they can see it in her eyes.
the strength. the endurance. the stamina.
she doesn't question it anymore.

but today as she holds a cold face cloth to her face
to mop up the soggy tears threatening to burn a hole in her soul.
today she doesn't know.
doesn't have faith in her strength. in her spirit.
there have been too many lies up to now.
no on in her corner.
really in her corner.
they all don't know her.
she barely knows herself.
-alysia-

Tuesday, October 18, 2005
07:25 p.m.
go ahead- dream of her. create her how she must be.
paint me pretty.
the gurl who graduated early.
went to college. got her degree.
the gurl who had a "rough" past. did too many drugs.
was exposed to too much.
who put up with too much.
got into that cycle.
the gurl who broke free.
of me. of expectations.
the gurl who's living on a mountain.
board in hand. ready for anything.
she speaks her mind.
won't take too much.
she will never let herself down anymore.
she is one of the boys.
loves beer and hockey. stays up too late.
wakes up too early.
always is smiling. laughing. she's always ready and willing.
she has that sparkle in her eye.
she loves life.
and will always love you.

looking into the mirror that's not me.
but go ahead, smile at her that way.
dream of her and plan out the future you've always dreamed of---
i bet she dreamed it too.
because that's wat she does.
that's how she got you.

but tonight?
tonight, i hope, when she goes to sleep she'll wake up not beside you but inside herself
with a clearer mind.
a level head.
because tho she's been painted this way.
tho she loves this masquerade.
she can only fool herself for so long.
she can only hide the scars of her so long.
because she?
she's a woman with all the qualities of that dream gurl you fell asleep with.
but she has fears.
an elaborate past where she cannot tell where reality really has stepped
and imagination has painted.
she has this heart that has hated love for uncountless years.
has this dream of a prince come true...not with the perfectness but the realness of it.
she speaks her mind.
won't take depression at its face value.
reaches out and feels her heart breaking everytime she sees sumone cry.
she's pro'ly too compassionate for her own good.

this woman is not strong.
but has done wat she's had to do.

she's never meant to hurt you nor decieve you.
so as you wake in the morning and find, in your bed,
a stranger with a familiar smile,
don't roll over and get up feeling angry. feeling hurt.
because that day?
that's her first day without a mask.
without an agenda or ill motivation.

and she's going to be hiding under those covers.
-alysia-

Tuesday, October 18, 2005
06:53 p.m.
To Peter: A Letter

i'm sitting here.
my room's a mess.
i haven't done laundry since i've gotten back,
so my clothes lie in a heap on the floor,
and in a mound on the chair in which i'm sitting in.
i'm wrapped in a fuzzy blue blanket and eating frozen juice concentrate
and it's disgusting but i can't stop.
my life has gotten so bizarre since i last saw you.
gawd, i miss seeing you.
the image burns in my mind.
the feeling. the touch. the way you walked away.
the nights. oh gawd do i miss sleeping beside you.
it seems cruel these days spent apart when all i want to do is give in.
live life and then come home to you.
after all my years of bitterness and disdain towards love
and any other feeling associated with that and companionship,
you'd think that when i'd finally found sumone to change my mind
that life might be a lil bit easier.
well, it's not.
but ironically i don't want to give up.
i think you give me that strenght.
your words are beautiful.
they reach out to me and for a moment it's like you're right here in front of me.
holding me. smiling at me. kissing me.
i long to be held by you. i ache for it.
*sighs* but anyway, i think i'm going to go to bed.
i miss you terribly. sumtimes so fiercely that i can barely breathe.
i pray you dream of me.
-alysia-