Home > Work > eighteen years
1 " you clutter my mindthoughts of you, thoughts of me with youthoughts that keep me from restthat ull me to sleep at nightyour words are like butterthey're smooth and they're richand they make the bitter bits better "
― Madisen Kuhn , eighteen years
2 " i love good cries,loud sobs that soak your pillowthat kind that come at the endof a perfect bookyou're gasping for airas droplets of salt water trickle down your cheeksinto the corners of your mouthas your chest rises and fallsand your vision is blurredby the tearsbut your mind is so clear and your every thoughtin that moment feels so meaningfuland important and rightit feels okay to justlet it all outit makes you feel likeyou are free "
3 " I am slowly learning to disregard the insatiable desire to be special. I think it began, the soft piano ballad of epiphanic freedom that danced in my head, when you mentioned that "Van Gogh was her thing" while I stood there in my overall dress, admiring his sunflowers at the art museum. And then again on South Street, while we thumbed through old records and I picked up Morrissey and you mentioned her name like it was stuck in your teeth. Each time, I felt a paintbrush on my cheeks, covering my skin in grey and fading me into a quiet, concealed background that hummed everything you've ever loved has been loved before, and everything you are has already been on an endless loop. It echoed in your wrists that I stared at, walking (home) in the middle of the street, and I felt like a ghost moving forward in an eternal line, waiting to haunt anyone who thought I was worth it. But no one keeps my name folded in their wallet. Only girls who are able to carve their names into paintings and vinyl live in pockets and dust bunnies and bathroom mirrors. And so be it, that I am grey and humming in the background. I am forgotten Sundays and chipped fingernail polish and borrowed sheets. I'm the song you'll get stuck in your head, but it will remind you of someone else. I am 2 in the afternoon, I am the last day of winter, I am a face on the sidewalk that won't show up in your dreams. And I am everywhere, and I am nothing at all. "
4 " Don't forget to get away every once in awhile,To lose yourself in a bookOr in the woods behind your homeRide your bike into the sunset,Sit on your front steps and count the cars passing by,Lay on your roof and gaze up at the night sky,Drive along backroads with the windows rolled downListening to nothing but the sound of rushing windI hope you take the time to be alone,To sort through the cluttered shelves of your heartI hope you take the time to be silent,To close your eyes and just listenI hope you take the time to be still,To quiet your mind and experience the beautyOf simply Being "
5 " I don't want to sleep / because I don't want to wake up / and be the same person (from 'you hurt me') "
6 " You have to fight to be alright / it may not be easy, / but it's worth it (from 'you will always be good enough') "
7 " dark empty rooms / broken mirrors / and trashcans filled / with crumpled lists of mistakes (from 'chasing light') "
8 " I fear the birds will be able to love you better than I have. "