Tags: not_even_you

MISC; more to life than books you know

(no subject)

['april showers'; 110 words. this turned out different to what i expected. i still can't decide if i like it or not.]

(April showers bring May flowers.)

April drowns her sorrows in orange juice, staring into her glass and imagining her troubles very slowly running out of air. She imagines being submerged herself, and wonders if she would attempt to struggle in the slightest, or simply sink down to the bottom. Where would you get that much orange juice? Imagine seeing nothing but orange, every sorrow drowned and gone forever (but not forgotten).

April finds herself bursting into tears (april showers?) when she sees him in the doorway, looking hesitant and afraid, flowers in his hand (may flowers?), and the glass slips in her hands, orange juice forming a puddle on the floor.
LZ spring fling shoot

(no subject)

not even you know the sway of my hips like this girl,
the things that make me smile,
the things that boil my blood.

she's the one who reads me,
the one who sees me- the way i've always wanted to be seen.
the fantasy me is her reality.

you come & go, you boys, you do.
but she's the one who sticks around & that is why
not even you know me as does she.

(no subject)

Not even you.

Change is inevitable.

"Do you want to come?"

Endings are the seeds of beginnings.

"I think I have to stay."

The wheel of time is constantly in motion.

"Do you remember the yellow flower petals?"

We are trapped inside its grooves.

"Like it was yesterday."

Nothing can make it stop.

"Is there anyone who can...help?"

No one can escape their fate.

"Not even you."
  • dove95

What kind of friend are you?!

*posting early because tomorrow night, I will be out at my work's tenth anniversary dinner*

This entry serves two-fold: a response to the excuse_me___ prompt --Not even you-- and a rant.

Not even you can tell me how to feel about all that’s going on because you won’t even tell me what it is in the first place. I have to hear about it from my best friend. And, what did you think she’s not going to tell me these things? She’s my best friend; that’s what friends do—we talk to each other. And, that’s so obvious from YOUR behavior that you don’t want to be my friend.

“Oh, he doesn’t want to talk to you until you reach out to him on your own.
“He’s mad that since you started dating your bf, you stopped hanging out with him.”

That was two months ago that I was told this. And, I’ve made a couple attempts to make good with you. Still nothing. I didn’t realize that we were or weren’t communicating. It helps if you include me on our friendship (or lack of) decisions.

Then, last night:
“He’s bringing Kim over, so I thought it would be really fun if you brought over your bf and he brings over his gf. He didn’t like that idea.
“He said he doesn’t want to see you.”

I just don’t understand how you can be this stubborn about all this and not talk to me about what you’re thinking or feeling. If you had asked me why we haven’t been hanging out or talking since my dating the new guy, you would’ve gotten an honest answer. When have I ever lied to you?

But this whole thing just rubs me the wrong way. Once you mature a little and realize that friendships aren’t constructed on your terms alone, you know where to find me. Until then, I do wish you and Kim well. And, I also hope that if you want to continue building something with her, you better pray that this side of you either never comes out or you finally realize you’re not going to have any friends if you don’t do something about this characteristic.

So, no, not even you can tell me how I feel because you won’t even ask.

x-posted in excuse_me___ and dove95
MISC; more to life than books you know


['impossible'; 100 words.]

Not even you know what it’s like to be me. You try, to the extent that you believe you’ve succeeded sometimes, but you haven’t managed it. It’s not your fault – nobody can truly get inside somebody else’s head.

I like to pretend I’m in yours sometimes – a mind full of trivia from Heat magazine, the scent of pink gel pens, and the sound of the constant message alert of your mobile phone. The way you tap your long fingernails nervously on the table when you’re talking to me.

But – no.

Not even I know what it’s like to be you.

Not even you

I'm not really sure about this. It ended up in a very different place from where I had originally intended.

I painted the tips of the stars
In blood and heart ache
So astronomers at least, would understand.

Not even you could clean them,
Wipe away the misery
So visible now.
Not even you.

Not even I have the strength
To climb into the sky again.

Perhaps my insides,
Cremated in my skin,
Became a catalyst,
Became my fuel.

Ash won't get me far.

(no subject)

Not even you send chills through my fingertips, to the roots of my hair. You do nothing of the sort, but you mean more than those that do. I pretend to find these things fascinating, when I'm really just laughing at their innocence. Your hands, oh your hands, could not mean anymore to me than their words (oh, their words.) You're wasting your life here, I'm a hindrance (this I know.) I would set you free with your hands propelling you to something different. Still, I sit perplexed by your hands; unable to let them go.
As a mod I'm sorry I haven't been around. I went away for three days, and it totally slipped my mind to mention it. Welcome all the newbies who've recently posted! Click here to read about how I want to do even more promotion for this community. Go past the topic part, because it was a previous topic. I only received one entry (which contained a few really beautiful graphics, I might add), but I want to vary it more. Thank you, and have a nice day! Peace.


Not even you.

I'm done with tears,
With longing goodbyes,
With far-off glances
And half-hidden sighs.

I'm done with nights
Spent without any sleep
While I lay in bed
And alone, I weep.

I hide this sadness
From all those near.
I can't let anyone
Catch on to my fear.

No one can see,
The sorrow's behind.
It's locked and now lost
For no one to find.

No more emptiness,
I told you, I'm through.
No one makes me cry,
Not even you.

First try in the community. Maybe I'll try again. Comment if you have any suggestions, ideas, add-ons, compliments, or criticisms. =) I just love comments!
Danger! [Mine]

First post..

Not even you can make me stray. This path I'm on is mine, and I like it here. I planted those gnarled trees when they were but seedlings. The mud you dislike so much feels heavenly between my toes, and the extra tall grass is my favorite place to take a nap. So, go back to your carefully mowed lawns and landscaped parking lots. The sky is blue between the leaves of my trees, and the stars spill their laughter into the bubbling brook. I like who I am. I like it here. Not even you can make me stray.