it's 12:58 AM and all i need is glitter.

i don't need a sleeping pill.

i don't need bon iver. (he puts me to sleep all the time.)

i don't need a boyfriend.

i don't need warm milk.

i don't need a pillow.

i don't need straight As.

i don't need to go to first period tomorrow.

i don't need to graduate.

i need glitter. 

it's 12:54 AM and i need glitter.

it's 12:56 AM and my feet are cold but i don't need socks.

it's 12:59 AM and i've given up the search.

it's 1:03 AM and i'm still thinking about glitter.

it's 1:06 AM and i've found five glitter gifs.

it's 1:07 AM but i'm not thinking about glitter.

i'm thinking about you.

there's something in the air and it's not love.

its depression.

happy holidays.

michelle kwan remembers.

i remember passing notes in eighth grade. i remember playing hockey in seventh grade and loving it. i remember getting in trouble for chewing gum in sixth grade. i remember when preston harmon said the f word to the nicest sub. i remember dressing up as susan mcauliffe. i remember using my neighbor's old space suit that he wore for halloween in second grade. i remember that gap i had between my teeth. i remember losing my retainer. i remember my grandma's vegetable sweatshirt. i remember that my cousin wore a superman sweatshirt to her funeral. i remember watching him cry and as a little seven year old trying to copy. i remember always being on the bottom bunk. i remember trying to split the room in half. i remember mr. cherrington. i remember making a model of the world trade centers and using cotton balls. i remember being put in time-out for crying in preschool. i remember the jelly-fish video. i remember playing with my american girl doll. i remember doing a report on michelle kwan in third grade and making her hair out of black yarn, and putting extra glitter on her dress. 

i just remembered that no one remembers who michelle kwan is. 

maybe this will jog your memory...

an actual picture of my totally life-like
representation of michelle kwan.

for a boy who is too free

If you loved me, I think we'd be okay.

You would come home from work to find me making spaghetti for the fourth time that week.

But you wouldn't mind.

You'd say "honey, I love your spaghetti" even though I don't always cook the noodles right.

You would say words that I don't agree with but I wouldn't care because those words would be followed by "I'm sorry sweetheart, I love you" and a jaw clenching kiss.

You would teach me how to smoke a joint just so I could if I ever needed to.

You would read to me poetry in our bedroom, while I sit on the floor and you use the bed for a stage.

You would take me to poetry slams so that you could read to me in the right settings.

You would grow your hair out long, because you know I like to play with it.

You would take me bowling at midnight just because.

You'd tell me exactly what to order if I ever went into a bar, because you thought you would drive me to drink.

You'd get dressed up to go to Sunday dinners at my parents house even though the t shirt and jeans you were wearing before looked finer than any suit ever could.

You'd take me to church and hold my hand the whole time, even though you feel like you don't belong.

You would step out of the room every time I knelt down to pray because you knew I would pray for you.

You'd drive me up to the mountains on warm summer nights when the air is dry to show me all of your favorite constellations.

You'd paint pictures of the universe all over our house.

You'd never play that old piano that sits in our front room because it reminds you of your mother.

You'd ask me to read to you out loud while you paint because you couldn't choose between the two.

You'd tell me "I think this could be it, I'm not lying" even thought neither of us were sure you weren't.

You'd get mad at me sometimes for asking you to please listen to me, even though you heard every word.

Instead of telling me to stop talking too much you would interrupt me with a kiss that would leave my lungs empty of air and I would forget about anything I was saying earlier.

You'd fight with me over everything but it would be okay because after you would hug me and say "I'm sorry, I love you" in between more world shattering kisses.
You'd hate how much I pray.

You never liked how tight that suit fit around your shoulders.

You hated leaving me alone in our room to pray, because you would worry about me going to sleep without you.

If you loved me, we could last a long time.

But you have a hard time committing to the commuter lane

So how could I expect you to commit to me?

I wouldn't.

watching parasailers.

this is where we'd sit for hours
and watch parasailers try to reach heaven.