~Life, Adapted By Aly~

I was listening to one of my all time favorite songs, "Dark Blue," by Jacks Mannequin. In the chorus, the lead singer, Andrew, inquires "have you ever been alone in a crowded room?" I paused the song immediately as tears welled up in my eyes. I listen to this song all of the time, but it suddenly hit me at that moment that my life is the epitome of being alone in a crowded room. Upon hearing the question at first, one might search for the sensical part of the song lyric. Alone in a crowded room? Well if the room is crowded and I'm in it, how could I possibly be alone? If I'm in a room with other people, that doesn't guarantee anything about those other people. Those other people might never look at me, never listen to me, never even notice I'm standing in the room at all; those people might have absolutely no idea who I am and might not even have a fleeting impulse in which they would ever want to meet me. I sit in crowded rooms every day in class. I

I'm sorry I'm too young for the seriousness of the future. I'm sorry that my tear-stained cheeks aren't enough proof that I care. I'm sorry I wanted so much so fast but then realized I wasn't ready for the speed. I'm sorry I want love at the same time I don't even believe in it. I'm sorry that we never had the same dreams even though we dreamt of each other. I'm sorry that shattered hearts can't share the same love of ones that have never broken. I'm sorry for the sleepless nights I spent stuck in seconds of our lives that I'll remember forever. I'm sorry that forever never seems as long in real life as it does in hypothetical discussion. I'm sorry that I couldn't wait around fearing that I might one day learn your secrets. I'm sorry that I've lost my voice from screaming when I never even wanted to fight. I'm sorry so many ferocious, hurtful fights remained unresolved. I'm sorry that the solutions are so w

It's the one word I can never say It does not yet exist The pounds my tongue seems to weigh When I try to describe this Could knock me to the floor So hard I'd leave it cracked But all the pain I would adore No injury even has an impact Now that I have you. My lips can barely conjure a quiver So no one has a clue For I have no phrases to deliver So I attempt using love as its label But my heart leaps in protest A brief pause to make myself stable I still have nothing to suggest. And so I allow myself to succumb I just let myself yield To words that may never come But could not be more real.

your pictures loom over me can't fight their gaze always-- when my eyes are open or closed it's just like the worst type of maze I'm trapped by your face but it's trapped by a frame. Our feelings hit the frame and froze stranded, soaked up in the storm love remains at least in photo form.

nothing beats gripping a pen in hand and scribbling on the page nothing beats finally sharing it with the world nothing beats having people listen because they want to not because somebody forced them. nothing beats adding punctuation only when you feel like it nothing beats deciding when to start a new line for your own reasons that nobody else knows. nothing beats watching them try to figure it out to figure you out. nothing beats always having someone to listen and not needing a response nothing beats metaphors that mean something different to everyone who reads them nothing beats jumbling it all together so they can tear it all apart without breaking it

I think people view the lives of others in aerial view. I think that this happens often times with problems. I might have a problem that seems to have me imprisoned. I might feel as if I'm lying on the ground, completely immobile, held in place solely by this problem. I might feel as if I have no escape route, and all I can do is lie in place until a solution makes its way into my crowded mind. I might share this problem with another person in order to get some ideas. However, I realize that the two of us would be located in two different areas. I'd sit somewhere on the ground, next to a huge body of water, representing my problem. This problem could easily drown me and I wouldn't even have the ability of swimming to my safety. The person I'd share my problem with would be sitting on an airplane looking out the window. My body of water would look like a blue dot, if the person could even tell that it was colored blue. I've heard the reference of "looking out th

New territory that I'm frightened to explore I think I'll pace around the borders before I pry open the door. New territory & I think I'm almost ready Spent the past half hour shaking; now I'm trying to get steady. With the precision of a gymnast on a beam, I take cautious steps & then I swallow my scream. & I know that I can't go through life with both of my eyes closed My pupils aren't film; they won't falter when exposed. So I smudge my fingerprints all over the clean slate So if I attempt to turn back, it will be too late. Teeth perched sharply on my lip I'm still not allowing a scream to slip. Time to stop dwelling on what is behind me 'Cause I've left evidence for the future to find me. After the past gasps for its final breath I throw dirt on the casket & the past gives in to death.