Lullabies about the sea

Why is my cup of tea also what I take on the rocks?

I like how they both warm that place at the very bottom of my stomach

I hate how every morning I’m not sure which one to pick

I remember when I use to shower as I’d hum along to Lennon; attempting to make it out over the intense water pressure over my head

What do I prefer, Melodies or Melancholy?

Now my showers are where I stare

No, not the passionate stare when he admires her

The one where everything blurs out time, and time again.

the one where you don’t have to think about the tears

Yeah,

I know they still roll down as you repeat “Yes, I’m fine. I’m good.”

and then more tears are shed after the fact because the correlation between you and “being good,” has never felt this astray.

so,

blank but  full.

why give a fuck when you know it does not matter

why give a fuck when you know you have all the answers, but life will still throw shit at you anyways

just because it can

No Elizabeth, criticism is not advice

and Romeo never loved Juliet.

Father use to tell me, if life gives you lemons, fuck it, make a mojito.

Mischief could either be your closest connection or a self constructed enemy

Daddy,

I still wanted the juice

-C.C.

Vows

I can hand you the lock 

And key.

Even then you would be the one to lock yourself out.

I try searching for meaning, yet forget you have made the desert your daily destination 

I thought I knew your intentions behind your kiss, but guess none on your intentions in giving up.

Never knew the words "I love you," could be so empty when they use to make me so full.

I gave you my faith, but you made me give up on that as well.

Cheers on all that you have shared.

-C.C.

My Mojito

You remind me of Sunday nights

How you wait for things to fall together right before they can fall apart 

I can feel your eyes pursue my emotion

Yet your heart never searches for even a pulse of devotion 

Fixing puzzles may cure problems at hand 

But these scattered little pieces soon become inescapable quicksand 

Your piercing eyes seep through my soul 

Don't begin to be the one to hide your own glow 

I want to give him the world and travel the land 

Yet the most magic I know is found in those hands 

Yes, his touch is extremely kind but nothing compared to what is held in his mind 

Turn the lights off while you turn my mind on

Not sure what I love more 

his smile or his songs 

-C.C.

I guess some of my hottest showers are after my longest nights 

Why clean when so hazy

Why run when so caught 

Caught up somewhere feeling too crazy 

Not sure if the dark has tamed me more than the light 

We were okay in the dark. 

Now it's 6 a.m., And it isn't only my eyes having trouble trying to adjust to the light 

You fucking said I was lovely

You looked me in the eyes and said I was "lovely."

You loved my flaws, you never loved 

Me

I don't know how to speak

I don't know how to love

Not the love you showed me

You showed me the acceptance of prevailing failure

I am not a failure 

And that is not lovely 

I want to ask questions but I never get answers 

I guess all my questions are now aimed to crickets 

At least they listen

deforestation

We built the house on wood, “we would grow forever”

Maybe it was the earth that brought us together

yet the one to tear us apart

“Never let go of who you are,”

Honey you never had the least bit of a clue as to who the fuck you ever were

How were you ever suppose to acknowledge who I was?

Bring me down now, allow the truth to bring you down for a

lifetime.

I try recalling the feeling of happiness, genuine happiness

My mistake,

innocence does not work counterclockwise

Maybe it was your eyes that made me weak,

your touch what made me numb.

Bucket the blame on me, but guilt is much more consuming than pain can ever be

Pain heals. Your escape will always be an endless marathon.

I guess there is no true escape with torment

Maybe I should have stopped when you called it the house and not our house.

Black and White

He’s crazy

But I don’t know if I’m crazier for loving it

Now needing it

I guess we wean off certain addictions

to only start new ones

            Who knew love entailed loss

            Who knew loss defined lust

Mystery opposed by happy endings  

Better off two bare souls in the dark, than two covering their ass in the light.

Light does bring life, but life is what will show you the dark

Therefore I rather keep our souls in the dark

And the oblivious pain in the light

-rekindled madness- C.C.

fuckYou

I'm not sure how much he loved it or hated it

Maybe it was his love for craze, which was more profound than his love for me could have ever been 

The thing is we can't see the end before we start

And when two forest fires come together they burn so passionately and harmoniously 

Yet ignorantly 

I remember questioning if the fire was fucking beautiful or fucking toxic

But you were more caught up in waiting to see how the ashes made their way from the smoke

How can a blindsided lover walk away from the monster that gives her definition

     You can tell me about happiness, you can tell me about confidence, but you can't tell me shit about fucking pride 

A fool cannot be defined in the dark

Fuck you for ever turning the lights off

R.I.P- passionate souls 

-C.C.

Chapter 2

With you I forget

Not of sorrow, or regret

But more of how you let my mind sing the same melody that use to be its lullaby

Over the wine and long talks, I fetch your cigarette

You take my heart and tell it to fall

And it wants to so badly but also remembers so clearly what it was like to crawl

I can feel when your eyes look at me in awe

Holy shit when love starts to kindle its so hard to stall

I know old pieces could not be put back in place

But so crazy how one man ended that chase

I now wonder why I tried so hard for these pieces not to be erased

The thing with sadness is it demands attention

But now I could see all the bad that was blinding my taste

As I feel your fingers pass over each rib on my side

I can feel my body aching for yours to come closer to mine

Sometimes this feeling makes me euphoric, and others it makes me want to hide

But you whisper in my ear and tell me it’s only the beginning of the ride 

-C.C.

empty stomaches/busy heads

I guess he became used to the faint smell of dark coffee and cigarettes as it rolled off my tongue somewhere in between our empty small talk 

It almost felt as forced as the fake smile after my now repeated anthem of "I'm fine."

My relentless cries are salted over my desolate attempts of normalcy 

My thoughts occupy my room as much the half empty water bottles and pill capsules do

I could feel remorse scraping against the muscles in my cheeks in attempt to recall the motion of a smile 

I can remember the taste of my last meal, yet cannot recall the comfort in a true smile 

Why did they never advertise this life with all the tormenting pain that soon becomes the only solid company I have

They told me not to be scared, this was normal, this was fun

And that's the part they didn't get, I wasn't scared of the drugs, I was scared of my darkest demons who soon became my only consistent friends 

They indulged in my vulnerability

They loved to be fed and when they weren't they ached louder than my now muted conscience 

-C.C.

7

He always loved something about fireworks

I always loved something about how his face would light up in the natural light of the darkest nights 

His beaming face interlaced with the smile of a child 

It's hard to look someone in the eyes after taking something from them

Happiness is hard to find 

Confidence is harder

But being found again is the hardest

And innocence, well that's an endless chase.

Sorry you ever had to be lost

           R.I.P.  C.C. 

You or Them

Sometimes I hear songs and remember why I love you 

Loved you

Sometimes I hear that song and remember how we both cried home silently that night 

Sometimes I hear a song and remember how I used to hear the tires against the road more clearly than the lyrics 

Sometimes I hear songs and wonder if you think about me when you hear them too 

Sometimes I hear the words meet in verses and replay how your lips use to softly harmonize with the lyrics 

Sometimes I turn the radio off because somehow so many more songs became more relevant 

Some songs don't sound the same 

Some songs don't seem the same 

Some songs have been erased 

Some songs allow my heart to dwell in the company of pain

You keep coming up

But you have been deleted 

We have been deleted 

You keep pushing me away 

You keep giving me reasons to come closer

You keep preaching of your hate 

Yet your constant interest displays your love 

And he thinks I'm still good 

He still sees the little girl in my eyes 

He thinks I'm still that girl

But he knows of nothing except fixing mistakes 

Yes he knows acceptance very well

But too much of anything is never too good

You know? 

And I think I'm witnessing two in love 

I think it's love

I think it's great 

Destruction is greater though 

Remember?

I don't know if it's defined in her drunken laugh but definitely in her sleepless nights 

The wine enhances, the weed lets her take chances

I know 
        because it's been too long I live in these circumstances

-C.C.  

Moments

and I hate how every afternoon on my subway drive home my ears have to stumble across lovers fighting so recklessly. I wish I could scream in return telling them to stop the bullshit. 
I recall all of our anger and frustration over all those same pointless little things, and that's the thing, their pointless. Yet those pointless moments are everything but pointless..they are untouchable and unable to hold the essence of being bittersweet because the end is never determined
until it has to be.
Don't take advantage of these moments.
I now find myself wishing I had more pointless things to fight over.

xoxo,
x lover              
                                                                                                                                              -C.C.

Lunch Money

I remember his madness in all things

And the way he kind of smirked while he casually acknowledged the intertwining truths and lies that stood in the midst of accomplishment and failure, which were apart of Our Journey, or rather just the fault of mankind

I guess it was sort of beautiful, sort of fucked

But the truth is sad, don’t let anybody tell you otherwise.

Truth is naked, Truth is vulnerable.

Yet it is better than living in between the comfort of lies

    coming to terms with the madness that lies under the surface appeals lonesome, but is then a structure able to hold its own

     in the way it is said to be so beautiful when we fall in love with someone else’s flaws

becoming beautiful on what you shed disgust over

Hey, that’s beautiful.

Do I acknowledge the truth, or let the facts fall away with my Sunday church dresses

Do I swim out to sea, or stay in the comfort of the sunrays that have risen and fallen everyday I have.

Do I stop using my allowance on school lunch because I know a cigarette does you well while you mute out your mother’s screams over the misplacement of her alcohol even though her humility was lost ages ago and never attempted to be found.

But I guess we supply the Lost- and-Found is these types of given situations

I listen to your dark heart because my eyes would not be equipped to enhance my ability to come to understanding the pain you truly feel

We feel more in the dark than we can ever see in the light

I am his home

I am his stability

I guess I am his Lost- and – Found

And I keep looking back

Looking front

And every time I look, I seem to be more lost than found.

- C.C.

Scattered

I don't know where my things now lie
Maybe somewhere in between my forsaken cry

I keep returning to pick the pieces back up
but every time I go back, I end up more stuck

I know each person has problems that hover
I wish mine were over a heart break from a distant lover

I know the phrase, once a plate is broken it cannot be repaired
But all these pieces are gone that I once loved, that I shared

I guess thats why its become so hard to lend
People like to treat emotions like the money they spend

Greedy and selfish, like the cold, restless night
but once it's gone, its forever out of site

Except the thing with emotions is we forever carry that fright.

-C.C. 

Unrecognized Reflections

He was never the type of guy to higher the volume of the radio because you were previously humming the lyrics under your voice. 

I guess her unrecognized smile had become his greatest possession 

He was never the kind to order dessert even after you said not to

I guess he held the key to the golden gate that my father told me would always guard my heart

Why was weakness so friendly

Why did I let her lure me in with her ever so unrecognized, cunning smile 

Why are those the only types of smiles I now found myself surrounded by 

He was never the type to stop in between the beautiful instances that Hemingway and Frost left for us to discover in a part of their scattered literature that seemed to cover my bedroom floor. 

Yet all that beauty that seemed to light my path, was nothing but worthless gravel he stepped right over.

He was never the type to say he missed your smell over 2 a.m. phone calls

I guess there was a frolicking echo that appeared somewhere in between his confusion and knowledge 

But he had already ignited the silence between my ever so distant body and soul 

-C.C.

Echoes

It kind of comes on slowly.

I try to recall the times before I could hear the creak of my pounding heart

  so clearly

Why can I not recall the taste of innocence, nor love, nor the way my mother use to cradle me

Why were these so jagged now..

Rougher than the surface we tried to scratch, which only wounded me in return

As my pace increases, the thump of my heart becomes the soundtrack of my life

Ironic how my anthem enjoys the songs of pain

He likes you at your weakest.

He likes your company.

Why do I run?

Why do we run?

Why do we attempt in escaping the inevitable

What is confrontation? What is understanding.

All this generation knows is running.

My heart sewn into my arties, veins, mind, and soul.

She takes care of me, yet I have brought her the greatest, aching pain.

She beats so beautifully, in the only tone she has ever known

Execution.

She executes her job, what she knows she has to do.

Why do I run?

Why am I so intelligent yet so foolish

The day she stops executing what she has always done and her mind is at rest, mine will be up in the clouds wondering why I fed the creak ever so constantly.

- C.C.