I love you so much.

My Dearest Wolfie,
I tried so hard today to get you off my mind, just to see if I could and I realized that I could not. I could not because my heart wanted you to be there all day. I realize that this is so much more than anyone can fathom because you make me feel safe. Even from so far away your words and your voice keep me safe. Your promises and your smile keep me safe.
I love you.
I love you because I believe you and I trust you when you say I never have to get hurt ever again. I love you because you love me.
-Your Constanze

where have I gone,

Stressing and stressing the facts tightens the line and makes it snap. Choking on the comforters we sleep on, lacking all the trees we need to breathe with, falling overhead before the bed- the nudity of hiding in our heads. I used to close my eyes and hold myself to sanctify the meaning of my skin. To purify what I had given him, to scratch off all the residue of sin. Where are you now? Do you lay on the sand with black rocks in your hand, flipping them over again and again? That's what it was, I sank deeper because of what all rain that runs cold, quick, and thoroughly does.
I've been lied to enough to know how warm the words are.
I've been tied to this stuff ever since you gave me reason to run far.
I have cried enough times to know how wanting to drown in the salt feels.
I don't try anymore, I'm depressed, it's impressive what love deals.

I'm done, I'm always done.

So Cry

In the sanctity of your dispassion, with a heavy death laden upon your back, a cold breath blithering your skin as it strips to petals in the infirmity of autumn, love and cry. Cry as the broken day sways ever changing around the limits of malaise. Cry with rhythm to the bereft world, left to heave and cough through the swinging of the leaves and boughs. Kiss the broken ground on which love stands, some short of proud. Love- not only because its medicinal values rust like gold and diamonds in the passing time . Love- not only because the brush of your skin against mine, with closed eyes, dancing to the opus of our lust, would prove sublime. But love and cry, love and cry, love and cry, for the soft whistle of our feelings give us flight.

I couldn't wish for anything more

because I think I'm really content with the way my life is exactly right now (:
I'm in Santa Barbara, I have great great friends, family that loves me, a goal in mind.
Not only all of that but Wolfie and PG are going to go to New Zealand December of 2011 (for sure) and experience it for about a week and a half. Who wouldn't absolutely love that?
I love my life. I really love it and I have so many people to thank for that.
Including Wolfgang, Thank ya :D

I just absolutely

say too much -_-

The Violinist

Ever thought of a violin in a dark room- the fragility of the bow against the strings as each delicate note pushes gently at the silence of the walls. It seeks an escape within the crevices of the encasement; an escape found in every weakness of the room. A soft sweet sound knocks at the pillars of your soul, demolishes every door, cracks the windows. You see this as a failure, a chaos created to pain you. But your heart is not the cement of the establishment, nor is it the wood or the foundation. It isn't even the lost floating specks of dust or the oxygen that fills the otherwise empty hallways. The violin is not there to hurt you, it is not there to break you. It is there because you need to hear its music, be seduced by it, embrace it. It is there because you need to understand that it does not matter where your heart lives; as long as it's alive.

Do not mourn the ending song, prosper in its lingering on
its eternity is not in the space that surrounds you- but in the space within you, dear

-Anahi

Tonight I feel...

I have to cross bridges of glass, I feel the whisper of the water underneath me and my mind sinks into it slowly. I tie knots around these ideas that, if communicated, no one would ever be capable of understanding. I have to stop tapping my feet, or the world underneath me will shatter into unrecognizable pieces. To be honest, I'm just scared. I like knowing exactly how I feel because it gives me a sense of control but right now my emotions are small birds that need to escape. They sense it too. But I have to apply serenity, right? I have to understand that some things I can't help. Some things I just cannot change. I close my eyes and take in music, I inhale sonatas and tarantellas. Within this oxygen I take into my lungs are the notes and lyrics. I suck it in because without it I can't help but feel empty. I'm going crazy because I haven't hugged anyone since my parents left me here. I lay awake after having dreamt something strange and take in the night. I can feel my pupils pleading for light. I think heavily. Deep thoughts that have no exact explanation. How do I feel? I feel like I've been falling. I feel like I reach for the walls in a well and find nothing. I'm falling into measures. I landed on the bass clef. I yearn and yearn and yearn for the invisible lover in all of this classical music.
Wait..repeat that:
I yearn for the invisible lover in all of this classical music

That's how I feel.

Baby Names

Here are a list of names that have popped up in the head as candidates for future children's names :

Girls:

isabelle
amory blaine
harper
jamie
lysabee
sonata
astrid
scarlett
jane
augustana/augustus
theodora
marguerite
camille
meredith
Maru
Josie
Imogen
Darcy

Boys:


peter
gregory
jamie
ricky
phillipe (pronounce philipa)
gunther
julien
christian
gatsby
bryce
Darcy
Chandler

I know there's a lot, and I probably won't have enough
 kids to fill up all the names
or will I?
:D

Tired

but alive. Alive in the sense that as I listen to Mr. Glass' Trilogy Sonata for piano, watching the night embrace the sky, embrace the streets, people, and cars I belong. I belong in this strange world where the days creep in and out. I am the sequel to the trilogy of life. The prequel is too soon, the ending is too final. The sequel leaves room for a past and a conclusion. However, without dwelling in either two. I like conversations with the Sky.
I wonder what brought me to that.
The song just ended and so will I.
(:
goodnight.

Hung up by my Cello Strings

Chances made of stars
Held high into the air
resting in the corners of your hair
ignited by the pursing of your lips
sing to me or you will die a dream
tortured by my tightened string I hold my bow out to your wings
into the tumultous blue I close my eyes
and ring my love to you with these
neverending cello strings

I could never understand

why I was cursed or blessed with this.
Neither will you.

There

is an intensity hidden beneath the palms of my hands and it's power is greatly influenced by you, dear.

You'll feel it when I touch you next. I swear it.

I feel

the pressure of the world upon me like a wave. A wave like the aftershock of rippling events. I graduate, I register, I go from place to place. The expanse of my decisions increases as time continues and with unwavering consistency I find myself becoming an adult. Am I ready for that? To be unable to justify my actions based on my age. To perhaps take on responsibility for myself: my faults, my shortcomings alongside my successes and my achievements. I'm scared. Of course, if not because of what I've stated just now then because I'm going to miss the very distinct embraces of people whose arms I've become so accustomed to.

winners and losers

I will someday finally feel the way you feel
I will kiss your cheek and maybe fall straight in
I'll run too hard and break your hamster wheel
I'll know just what it is to lose and win
to lose and win to lose and win
at this game that you call falling in
to peel away the plates collected on my face
the ones you eat off of to satisfy your sex appeal
you steal you steal you steal
and make it so i lose and win and lose and win
but only at your fucking whim