I'm Not Dumb

I'm scared right now

because the words aren't coming

and I need to have a post done by 11:59.

But every single word that I write sounds cheesy and dumb and has been written before.

I'm lost 

and confused!

and I feel like an idiot.

My greatest fear in life: achieved.

over and over again.

Because, yeah, I'm afraid of heights,

and I'm afraid of spiders and wasps.

I'm afraid of kidnappers in the night

and the monster beneath my bed.

I'm pretty scared of the dark

and i'm really scared of rejection.

But by far i'm most afraid of being thought of as dumb.

I'm so afraid that as I pour my freaking heart out on this blog you're laughing at what I have to say

or that the only sticky note you'd leave in my journal says "uhhh..." like no one'd ever get what i'm writing. (oh wait, that already happened.)

I'm afraid that i'll get the question wrong

or that i'll make an incorrect claim

or spell something wrong.

Because all I've ever wanted was to be smart

and for everything to be easy.

But i'm not quite there yet.

So please just be a little patient with my stupid comments

and my misspeled wurds.

Because I'm working on it,

and I promise that I'm not dumb,

just a little scared.

Find Paris

What is Paris really? 

Because you call it inspiration,

creativity,

knowledge,

even participation.

But I call it love,

which, I guess, is really just all of those things combined into one word.

My Words

I am a collector of words.

But now my jar is full.
and I have to share them, but

It's hard 

because I'm selfish. 

These are my words.
No one understands them quite like I do.
That's why they're mine.
I'm not sure how to write in such a way that they'll make sense to you,

but I'll try,
and my jar will empty,

then I'll fill it once more.

I'll write you a poem if you'll write me a song.

When I think about you, the words just don't come.
And I don't know if that's a good sign or a bad one.
Because somehow, after all you've done for me, you just don't inspire me.
And I don't know why.
But maybe it's because it would take more than this complex arrangement of the same 26 letters over and over again to describe how I feel.
Because to try and explain my love would be a crime.
We have something good.
We have something special.
Lets never let go.

Broken

My mind is broken.
Shattered,
ripped apart,
torn to shreds,

unusable.

I  am  broken

Broken by thoughts
of could bes
and would have beens.
nearly hads, 
and wish I hadnts.

Oh the regrets
the almosts.

The would've dones,
and could have dones,
and probably should've dones.

The pieces of myself left to find.

I am made of mistakes

and crazy adventures.

Regrets and fulfillment.

broken pieces and lots of duct tape.

The things I've learned are worth the pain,

because I am broken  alive.