i want to live art.
live dance shout
cry jump laugh
fornicate bleed think
breathe eat learn
experience work sweat
art. i want to.
i want to be art.

so if i asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientations, the whole works, right? but I'll bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling; seen that.

if I ask you about women, you'd probably give me a syllabus about your personal favorites. you may have even been laid a few times. but you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy. you're a tough kid.

nd I'd ask you about war, you'd probably throw shakespeare at me, right, "once more unto the breach dear friends." But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap, watch him gasp his last breath looking to you for help.
I'd ask you about love, you'd probably quote me a sonnet. But you've never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes, feeling like God put an angel on earth just for you who could rescue you from the depths of hell. nd you wouldn't know what it's like to be her angel, to have that love for her, be there forever, through anything, through cancer. and you wouldn't know about sleeping sitting up in the hospital room for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes, that the terms "visiting hours" don't apply to you.

you don't know about real loss, cuz it only occurs when you've
loved something more than you love yourself. and i doubt you've ever dared to love anybody that much.

fuuuuckin bitches.

i havent smoked in four weeks. and i am not allowed to do shit this halloween which pisses me off cuz i know im gonna spend the entire weekend miserable just thinking of what everyone else is doing. and not being thankful. cuz i really hate this.

and i hate this new chapstick flavor.
and how you didnt let me hug you today but i really needed to.
and how livejournal wont let me post anything.
and how fuckin gay myspace is.

i want to take a bubble bath and make oatmeal cookies NOW but i still have to write two essays. and i hate that too. and i hate how she insists coming over to watch our t.v. and eat our cereal, and i hate even more how they only show halloween-themed episodes this time of year. and i hate how i havent had any pumpkin pie yet.

and i hate how i know im not really miserable. but being miserable is the only emotion i could make myself feel. and it scares me that i cant feel anything else and im pretty sure i know why and im pretty sure i miss her and that this is a new side effect.

"this discussion is not over."
plz just shut the fuck up. shut the FUUUCK UUUP you fuckin whore. shut up.

i have not cut in MONTHS.

i have not done white or pills since june 7th.

i have not snuck out since march.

i have not hated myself [[my appearance, or myself in general]] since about february or march.

i have not gotten drunk since valentines day.

i have not cut class since january 4th.

and i think this is ENORMOUS improvement. <3

through the screen door, your thoughts are quarentined
by the way you smell, i can tell that you're fifteen
my name is denver max, i eat heart attacks
from your mouth to your hands to the floor;
you're bubbling syntax.

------
wow. i forgot what this felt like.
and now i feel really bad for what i did to you.
im not sorry though. i meant it.
tomorrow i'll be fine.
tonight im cuddling close to those perscription pills.