f8-me; f9-you

why can't I forget the mistakes?
my mind tends to play tricks, clips and movie stills
like some weird cinema event,
starring last april,
yet it is vague because those days were lived out with blurred vision, but when I see you around or hear your voice down the long hallways--all i can think of are...
the swords on the wall,
crosswalks at midnight,
the tattoo studio
and the art that it gave you,
tight jeans, leather jackets,
and late nights followed by early morning breezes
blowing softly over bare skin through the open window.

And what other girl gave you nights like these ones you cherished.
after hours of sketches and blackened dirty hands--we found comfort in cold sheets that were warmed by two bodies. we would wake up and debate trudging to class, because there we were strangers, where we carried the title of seat numbers and fake labels, F8 and F9 is what we clung to and bailed at the thought of it being anything more.
there will forever be an imprint on my mind of what monday and wednesday nights consisted of,
in which F8 would meet F9 in a comfy set of old chairs in a garage with smoke billowing from two pairs of lips that often just wanted to collide and freeze time.

little did we know--the late nights would end, the day would embrace and the sunlight would erase the night before...
Summer came...and failed to speak after that,
but were constantly reminded of our late nights by the subtlities of red chairs in class stadium seating or the smell of charcoal on my artist jeans.

so why can't i escape these thoughts?!
maybe it's because you called me, "babe"
and i gave you something that i can never get back.
i'd love to look at last april and be clean or maybe proud,
but why be proud when all that is left is a blurry memory surrounded by haze,
a memory that never should have been.
so stop showing up as a bad movie in my mind, because i am no longer the girl you saw me to be in those moments,

i am more than porcelain skin and a pair of jeans,
say what you want but everyone still knows,
i will forever remain as your muse.

progress coffee

homemade blueberry scone softly crumbles in my hands
as the latest fad walks in and out of the glass door,
this experience is unlike the others,
why? i can't seem to figure it out,
what is is about the girl with black nail polish and curly hair?
what is it about the boy with long blonde hair and a plaid shirt
or the girl with a mohawk in the corner with the bald tattoo guy?

my iced coffee hits my cold lips perfectly as the sun beats down
i am caught up in this moment,
with a book and a camera,
the epitome of simplicity,
I daydream.

i almost figured out this time that seems to freeze as i think about it,
i wanna capture the smile on the face of the brunette with dreadlocks,
i want to bring permanence to the stories the people here carry.
maybe thats where the passion for frame by frame living came from...
the idea that i can give anything beauty with a simple click,
and a fast or slow shutter, with a possible zoom lens,
well...all of that takes my breath away.

a rambling jigsaw

and its like a jigsaw puzzle waiting to be assembled,

all the pieces wait floating around in my head

waiting until this day ends.

why is it a cluster of things,

and will it ever fit together...

i can't let my dreams or my over-analyzations beat me to my own future.

so grab my hand and slow me down to the present,

bring me back to reality.

i need you to catch me, but don't clip my wings

because i crave the freedom of the adventure placed before me...

sometimes i am too fickle for my own good,

because my heart wants one thing

my body another

and my mind a third

its this complex triangle

awaiting to align.

so come back and tackle me

and then go away again,

this time for longer than before,

most likely to never return.

lets collide in the middle of july,

and then leave the rubble there.

and last semester the ballgame was different

and the stage was set all wrong

and the star of the show kept missing.

so point me in the right direction,

and show me where to go.

because i cant stop this rambling of one liners,

in this great big jigsaw.

crack the shutters-snow patrol

ou cool your bed-warm hands down on the broken radiator,
And when you lay them freezing on me, I mumble "can you wake me later?"
But I don't really want you to stop and you know it so it doesn't stop you
And run your hands from my neck to my chest

Crack the shutters open wide, I wanna bathe you in the light of day
And just watch you as the rays tangle up around your face and body
I could sit for hours finding new ways to be awed each minute
Cuz' the daylight seems to want you just as much as I want you

It's been minutes, it's been days, it's been all I will remember
Happy lost in your hair and the cold side of the pillow
Find More lyrics at www.sweetslyrics.com
Your hills and valleys are mapped by my intrepid fingers
And in a naked slumber, I dream all this again

Crack the shutters open wide, I wanna bathe you in the light of day
And just watch you as the rays tangle up around your face and body
I could sit for hours finding new ways to be awed each minute
Cuz' the daylight seems to want you just as much as I want you

Crack the shutters open wide, I wanna bathe you in the light of day
And just watch you as the rays tangle up around your face and body
I could sit for hours finding new ways to be awed each minute
Cuz' the daylight seems to want you just as much as I want you

the daylight wants you

and this song is on repeat as it covers me in its beauty of sound and words

as it wraps its lyrics around my body like tangled sheets in the morning,

it reminds me of waking up next to you,

when the curtains let loose the brightness of the sun

as it flows in to find two bodies,

fighting the morning, and asking it to come back later.

let the rain fall i dont care,

i am yours and suddenly youre mine.

carpio

and the comforts of this moment could never compare to the warm cups of Costa Rican coffee

and wooden benches....

half of my heart is left in a country that doesn't speak my language,

full of kids that weigh so heavy, like the latest burden,

but this is more serious than those that are my own

this is a selfless feeling in the pit of my stomach

that i can escape,

no matter how hard or far i run,

for some reason my heart is stricken for this country,

that i thought was consumed by beautiful beaches and tourists,

man, was i ever wrong,

its the ticos that will show you the greatest simple love,

and warm your heart,

its the perfect display of God's amazing works,

the possibilities before them seem so endless

in this place,

until the tears well up in my eyes and i realize they are gone again.

Carpio, Costa Rica,

you will forever...

have a part of me.

morning person in the making

and the perfect morning will go as follows..

a kiss from you on my forehead,

and then my shoulders,

as my blonde hair falls beautifully over my neck,

i can feel your hand, softly intertwined with mine,

as the smell of coffee fills the air,

i know i am home,

music starts to fill my ears,

and my sleepy eyes open

to find you at my side,

and our dog,

waiting impatiently for his morning walk,

cups of coffee and a kitchen table,

with the paper and the latest overnight blog update,

sitting, calling for my attention,

as i laugh at my morning routine,

and you stare at me quietly in admiration,

empty cups, and lingering aromas,

leash in one hand,

yours in the other,

as the three of us take

our morning walk...

and talk of the days

and countless perfect mornings to come...

four flights of stairs

i wake up early to leave late,

and the studio doors never lock,

the gallery will always be open,

i get the most satisfaction

out of all nighters

and early mornings here,

beautiful prints

and rainy days

painted hands

and stained aprons

splashes of creativity,

beckon for my eyes to see it,

the hallways are long,

and slightly daunting,

yet they cry out my name on a daily basis,

every minute spent here,

is worth it,

when my art makes it on a white washed wall,

my sense of accomplishment

hits an all time high,

and i walk out of the glass doors for the first time

and i embrace the sunlight...

all that is left before me is a world

waiting for its beauty to be captured

by a single lens,

in front of a single eye,

in a set of hands.

from your princess

the perfect day has been laid out,

with a camera in my hand

snapping every moment

of the beautfiul weather provided for us,

with the smell of beer and sunflowerseeds

we wait at the game behind home plate,

my hand resting perfectly in yours...

this is the start to a gorgeous thing,

shouts and loud fans and some bright sun,

crushed by the score board screaming 13 to 6,

we head out for round two,

to a gallery in a run down town,

we wait at the door

for the purple shirted boy to let us in

wandering the halls and rows of photos,

i catch you,

so enthralled with some kind of beauty

that i dont seem to see...

from there the adventure continues

to a private spot in the upstairs of a coffee shop,

with trees and intimate things,

you sit waiting on my to share my passions,

your face says it all,

the smile in your eyes makes me believe

i am worth every minute of your time...

prints and photographs strewn all over the table,

craving for an explanation,

and every word that flows from my lips do them justice,

from there to chinatown,

laughter and food made perfectly for my appitie,

hands to hold and kisses for my lips,

we go on,

sand volleyball and sweat,

this day is getting better, and better,

with every part of my being,

i am captivated,

by this guy that is my best friend,

later that night,

its a couch for cuddling

and cups of wine,

followed by a late night walk around this block,

that we have wandered around plenty of times,

where tears have been shed,

and love has been conveyed,

i walk clutching your hand in mine,

never wanting to let go,

as my darkest secrets roll off my tongue

and tears come streaming,

you hold me,

and reassure that i am without blemish in your eyes,

this moment will mark the beginning,

as you ask a question that i anticipated,

and with a huge goofy smile,

my best friend becomes my boyfriend,

and this perfect day marks the end of my past

and the beginning of our future,

so here's my trust in this little jar,

and here's my heart in the other,

don't let any of them go.

and you dont know this...

but your letter will remain...

in my hands,

in my back pocket,

in my jacket pocket,

in my backpack,

in my car,

on my fridge,

and in my heart,

until you return for me.