luna blue

it sat on a hanger for 2 weeks.
see, i was scared to touch it, because i didn't want it to disappear like you did.
i was scared if i touched it, i would look down to find empty hands craving your touch.
i looked down to find, empty hands coated in touches.
touches that you, you said were mine.

I Love You.

but love has a funny way of working its way out of people.
from their heart to their head from there head to their mouth their mouth
to my feelings.

you hand me boxes of touches each one labeled with why you can't have it anymore.
none labeled with why you still need it.
guess you don't need me.

but please stop, stop trying to give the touches back
stop trying to give all of it back.
i gave it to you, its yours so wear it proud or give it to someone else.
but please don't give it back, i can't use something that was only meant for you.

once you give something away its hard to give it back.
once you give away your love you can't just take it back.
I know I've tried.

so for 2 weeks your shirt sat on a hanger.
because if I touched it. you might try to take it back.
and thats exactly what you did.

YOU ARE LOVED!

so stop those thoughts, stop thinking that the world, school, or your family, would be better off without you because i promise you they are not.

you are here for a reason and you have a purpose, your life was not meant to end in high school.
high school is 3 years of the 80 you will get.  it does not matter.
being prom queen, or the star in the play, being the most popular kid in school or having 1,000 followers on instagram, does not matter.

we need to stop getting caught up in the groups were are in.  friends are friends and just because you don't hang out with the jocks, or hipsters, or stand by the knight, this does not mean that you are any better or worse then them.

we are all human and we deserve to be treated as one.

people in your life love you, and if you don't think any one loves you well, then i am telling you i love you, and i think that you are beautiful and have amazing potential.

and the pressure that the athletes talk about, well i promise you everyone feels it.  We go to lone peak, it has world class written across it.  how could you not?

everyone is amazing, everyone has talents, and everyone is different.  yeah, you may not be student body president, maybe you didn't make the cheer team, and you might have a 1.9 gpa. i promise you that it doesn't matter. no one is going to love you less or treat you any different because you failed a math test.

and to every one who thinks that it is funny to make fun of someones weight, hair, race, personality, sexual orientation, activities they are a part of,  or family situations, etc.

stop.  in no way is that remotely funny.

so please think before you do something you will regret.

talk to someone.

talk to me.

because you are more then enough, and you are more then what you think you are.

you are incredible.

and if anyone tells you otherwise, they are wrong.

i shouldn't have writers block.

i'm a 18 year old girl with the emotions to go with it.
theirs boys and drama and girls, and how hard high school is and all that superficial crap that the halls are lined with.

and i want to write about the stuff that every one writes about and i want to write about high school, and, love and people, and life.

but i'm 18 and i haven't lived that long so i cant really give life advice, and i thought i knew what love is, but turns out i was wrong, i hate drama, and high school is great but sorry i have nothing to say about it. and people.. wells turns out i don't know people as well as i thought.

i have writers block because all i write about is how she stole his heart and i broke my own.

and i'm trying to be different and its hard.

and i never like anything i write.

i want to love the words that come but they all end up being about her and him.
and i'm not a fan of her or him.

delete, gets hit to much and the publish never does.

so my blog sits with posts from months ago.

and ideas and drafts from days ago.

and words i liked when i loved him.

i told my dad i have writers block and he said that i shouldn't because i'm an 18 year old girl with the emotions to go with it.

then he said with all confidence that someone can have when they write for a living.

find out what the character wants...

then i said

what if she doesn't know what she wants?

I remember when our faces collided in the hall way by the knight. I brushed it off like I didn't feel the smoke between our lips, as I watched you do a heal click out the doors.

I remember the look on her face when she told me their "epic", too long, cheap love was over. Relief flooded my body.

I remember empty desks, and absent smiles.

I'm tired of remembering day dreams that never happened and nightmares that were all to real.

I remember the blue eyed boy that changed my life.
His boots no one understood but me. His hands that only fit in mine.
canyon drives melt into my memory, happy faces and bitter souls jump into each other's arms.
To hipster to have the time of our lives, so we settle for sub par memories and intense kisses.
I remember losing you, and knowing this was the hardest thing I will ever do.
I remember refusing to believe second period would suck for the rest of the year.

I remember rewriting our love in the form of a sign. Nights we would laugh so hard your boots didn't matter any more.

I remember skating around the parking lot waiting to put our memories in film. I remember lip syncing to the beat of your heart.


I remember 9 months trying not to remember, seeing you and knowing your hand suddenly fit into hers.
I remember forgetting to remind you of me.
And they way we used to dance around our hearts.


I remember bombs being dropped into a field of forevers.

I'm constantly remembering the time when I thought the playground was the best thing to happen to me.

Then I remember when you happened to me.