I Can Ride My Bike With No Handlebars

The wind blew a faint breeze against her face, her hair gently swam in the wind, she looks down, her throat is swollen, her eyes are blood shot from all the tears, her lips chapped, it is cold and alone. More than usual.
She stands at the top of the bridge, her mind is flooded with thoughts of the one she loves, she whispers to herself, “Why god? Why did you take her?”
She cries silently to herself. Her life has already died, why should her flesh live any longer?
She knows she can not live without her, the girl, who was her life, who gave her something to live for. Her world. The girl, who was her only purpose in living. The woman, that she loved, and would always love unconditionally.
Her fingers loosen their grip and she steps off the ledge, falling 220 feet to the death she had already experienced. Her life didn’t end, because it was already over.

Words are only words, so why do we say them? They have so much meaning, yet they don’t. They can have so much depth, or none at all. They can have depth and no depth at the same time. They can be true and they can be false. Which do we know? If a word is just a word then why do we say them? Why do we say things we don’t mean and then say things we do mean? How can our word have meaning when words have no meaning at all? How can words have meaning when they have none at all? What is depth in a word if a word is just a word? Who decided words could be powerful? How are words powerful when at the same time they aren’t? Words are only words, and it is up to you to decide when they matter.

A child, sitting on a swing, kicking and dangling my feet, as I think of you, is all I am.

I sit, alone, in my room, captivated by thoughts of you. I’m so confused and uncertain. How can I be sure of my feelings? Are there even feelings? An all of my feelings are bias! I don’t know what or how to feel, or what or how I am feeling. After all, I am but a child. Knowing you will never feel the same, I internally torture myself through my emotions. Maybe you could feel the same, I try and tell myself, believing only a fraction. I lie to myself everyday, even though the truth still sits at the stomach of my lie. Why must I like you? Or do I love you? Am I in love with you? Do I even know what these things, these emotions, are? You are the first real friend I have ever had, I think. I’m not sure. I’m not sure, nor am I certain about anything anymore. I don’t know. Will I ever know?! Will I ever know?! I trust too easily and I let myself go.

I can’t wait for those car rides to the beach, driving through LA, your beautiful hair blowing in the wind, holding hands and listening to our favorite music, kissing you whenever I get the chance.
I can’t wait to step foot in that warm sand, our toes buried beneath a blanket of heat.
I can’t wait to lay on your favorite blanket, listening to the sound of the ocean and it’s crashing waves, talking for hours and being bathed by the hot sun.
I can’t wait to feel that moist sand as we approach the frigid ocean water that brushes against my feet, legs and entire body.
I can’t wait for the joy, happiness and laughter as we play together in the water, a wave about to crash on us, happy as ever.
I can’t wait to kiss you gently, as we float in the calm waters, our hands tangled, talking about our future as if we have a clue.
I can’t wait for the bonfire, cuddling, my arm wrapped around your waste, roasting marshmallows, your favorite blanket draped over us while I look at you with a smile.
I can’t wait for that car ride home, listening to the rhythm of your breathing and the sound of your heat beat while you gently rest on my chest, me looking at your beauty.
I can’t wait for those long nights, after we get home from the beach, both of is exhausted, laying down, intertwining with one another, making out to Reggae and smiling at each other in the dark.
Summer is almost here, and I can’t wait.

I love that moment, when I can think about you, close my eyes, and drift away.

Suddenly I’m in a field of carnations, wandering around, in search for something that I know nothing of. I stop at a sight, someone beautiful in the distance; I can hardly see her, yet I know she holds ultimate beauty. I approach her, with a confused look upon my face, reaching my hand out towards her…she turns around, I retract my hand slowly. That sight, in the distance, that I could hardly see, yet I knew was beautiful, is you.

I open my eyes again, awakened by the sounds of reality, knowing, that I will never be in that field of carnations.