Exit wounds

I can tell things aren't going to be the same, and I know that some day they will be better. I hope that everyone got what they wanted, and even though I know you're going through something right now, I hope you find yourself again... Every once in a while I get a clip of what life would have been like if nothing had happened. I hope that one day you forget what others thought and when you think of what happened in your life you think of how far you've come. The hardest part in all of this is trying to patch up all of the big mistakes and wounds that were left exposed for too long. I know you're figuring stuff out right now, and you might be here but you're mind is elsewhere... And wherever you find yourself these days, I hope you feel free. I hope you see what life can be and you feel like trying to stand up one more time, with the chance it might be the time your legs don't give out. I hope you are not beating yourself up over anything, and you give yourself credit where its due. I wonder about the days ill see you again, the you that I remember, the you that wouldn't leave me waiting on your last word, the you that would take down mountains to clear the obstacle in you're path, even if it wasn't the easier way. I know you're in there somewhere, and I hope you can find the exit wounds, just because you left your mistakes there doesn't mean they left you.

Standing in the heart of darkness

God I miss you. I miss you like the stars miss the sky, and the sun misses the moon. I miss you more than winter misses summer or the fall misses the spring. I miss you so much It hurts to think. I miss you more than my body misses sleep, and I mean it. 

I miss you 

I miss you

I miss all of you

Especially in this moment, and my eyes sting with the memory of everything.

I miss you so much I'm not going to tell you. I miss that smile, those eyes, the way you sound after you lie... I miss you.

The good and the bad, and everything In between and I hope you're not missing me like this too because it hurts like hell. I just needed someone to know, I miss you more than music misses a beat, more than oceans misses the beach. I miss you.

Like a bullet from a gun

I can't remember the last time I knew where I was going. And I think I want to be myself again but I'm not sure who that is. Someone told me I'm on the real world now, and I think I got locked in. Greens not a creative Color here. That cannot be true though because green makes me write about dinosaurs invading Mars, to save the one they love. And green makes me think of four leaf clovers and leprecons. And green makes me feel like falling in love. Where can I see the rule book for this 'real world' I've been hearing about. I came out of high school like a bullet from a gun, and I'm still trying to figure out who pulled the trigger, let alone raised the gun. 

Automatic

I don't think that I have a great way of saying it would mean the world without scaring people. 

Sorry for the rest of my life. 

Yours truly,

A regular person 

Don't you dare say it. Don't even think of it. I have cried too many tears and fought to many battles and lost too many fights to hear about her person whisper that word. No. Do me a favor? Of course not, because people don't do that anymore. The human race is broken and the Manuel on how to fix it was lost in the fire. I just want to be independent, is that too much to ask? Yes, you don't ask for independence you take it goddammit! You know what I've discovered in my 18 years? No one is going to care about your problem the way you do, and no one is going to fight for you like you do, and no one will give a damn about anything you say unless you do. So believe the words you speak and for the love of god don't put your fait in the hands of anyone but you, because people don't do favors unless they are the benefactor. You hear that?? Nobody cares what you put on twitter. And that my friends is what it feels like to be in the real world.

Yours,

Peter Van Houten

Speech/Poem/Rant/Truth/Life.

I'M. FINE.

I'm fine, Just Don't ask again, because the truth is I'm not fine and I'm sick of you and every other person asking. I'll never tell you the real truth. Do you even realize what's going on, what I have going through my mind ever second of every single day. I want everything to be okay like people say it will be, but it's still not Okay. Pretending isn't enough anymore and the emptiness I feel is real. It burns like a heat rash in July, and the Aloe Vera is expired.... I wish I could forget, forget everything that hurts and just be invisible. . . . I don't even know what I believe in anymore. Because the truth isn't what I'm reading and nothing will be the same. I can't close my eyes and feel safe because my innocent eyes have been stripped from the bubble, real things happen. Believing in writing will never be the same....  because the newspaper is warped from the lies that blend so well and nobody will ever know what the real truth is. So don't ask me how I'm doing, and don't say you know what I'm going through, because I don't know how I'm doing and I don't know what I'm going through. And the answer will always be the same every time. I'm sitting in algebra trying to find X, and the only thing i can find is 49000, because that's how maybe steps it would take me to get there. Then there's the 100 foot gap even after coming 245 miles, they want me to plug the numbers in and tell them the answer, but I have no answers, and I can't seem to focus. because all i can think of is the 30 minutes I get to look at you through a narrow screen. That's what sucks, visiting isn't actually visiting. It's stupid how going that far I still can't give you a hug, or hear your real voice. No because your apparently not a person anymore, But in reality no ones is human. We are all dying to shove someone under the bus. and here i am trying to find X because Y is missing him. It's days like these I wonder if god is a real thing, because why would god let you be away from us, and why would god make me feel so alone and why would god make the hurting worse. I wish I had an answer, I want to scream until this so called god could hear me, I mean really hear me. And I'd get my freaking answers. I don't even know what I believe in anymore. Actually that's a lie, I believe in poetry, and writing.... The creative kind because the newspaper is warped and nobody knows what the truth Is anymore. But I'm fine, really, but you're not supposed to ask me again.

I Remember...

I remember... I remember when used to hang on your arm in the swimming pool before I knew that the water didn't have sharks swimming below. I Remember that one time when you taught me to ride a bike, Krista was there too, but I was the first one to make it down the hill with only two wheels to keep me going. I remember how proud you looked, and how you told people how great I was. I remember the time we went would walk down to the air strip and watch planes take off for hours. I remember thinking I would fly one someday, and then you would remember with me, and life was just that easy. I remember the tour we took of the flight school, and I remember going to the museum after. That day was the greatest, and I'll always remember. I think I'll always remember the days that followed, even if I tried to forget I don't think I could... You know the day when mom lied, and she said you went on a trip. I'll always remember thinking you would never leave without a goodbye, or your phone. I remember the day I found the truth in her eyes, and I remember that feeling that didn't really feel like anything, and I don't think it has really left. I remember being afraid for you and somehow I prayed for you, even though I couldn't remember if god was real. I remember how far away I felt from average, and how normal it felt. I remember telling people I was fine, and never letting people see me cry. I remember the letter I wrote you, and the poem that made me think about you. I remember when you told me it made you cry, I cried to. I remember going to your day in court, you were so close and I wanted to hug you and I remember the cuffs on your wrists, and the worn stripes of your shirt. And I remember sitting so still and strong, I looked just like mom. And I remember krista sobbing. And I remember how mad I was, and I can feel it now, straight anger, the kind that shakes your skin, and melts the kindness in your eyes. I remember how I hated anyone who dare smile, laugh, cry, or breath. Only because I remember how the world was with you, and nothing would ever be as funny, sad, or worth breathing for until you were back. I remember wanting to be selfish, trying to remember good times but never to share. I remember the journal that helped me grow up, and be alright for a little while. But I also remember the 63 days I had to miss you and worry about you, and I think I still do. I remember the day I tried to see the world like you used to, and I remember looking at old photos, trying to find you as you. And I remember the day we got that call, the one that told us you were going to be free, and I remember the tears of pure happiness, I'll never forget the absolute joy I felt. I remember wanting to run to where you were, but being stuck here, and I remember you telling me that it felt like you were still in that place because you still haven't seen any of our faces. I remember when my bones told my heart you'll be okay, and I think I remember that being enough. I remember sharing my blog with you after, and I remember how much you gushed about it, even the dark stuff. I remember how empowered I felt in my writing, I never thought it was much of anything until you told me. 

Yours,

Peter Van Houten

How to forget

this is not going to be some instructional video about how to get over your boyfriend. this sure as hell wont be for people wanting to forget forever, That wont fix anything.

First thing about what it is you want to forget, and I mean really think. Once you have every last thought that relates to that one thing in mind, take a deep breath in and then slowly exhale. Letting all of those thoughts go with it. Imagine they escape with your breath, and do it again, and again, and again until you feel numb. 

Once the numbing kicks in (and it will kick in), go fall asleep. When you wake up I guarantee you wont remember. Until someone asks how your doing. Then it will all come rushing back, and it feels like it wont go away, and maybe it doesn't. I haven't gotten that far in the process yet. 

I guess this post is kind of miss leading.

Like you actually thought you could forget pain.

I know what doesn't work at this point, bottling it up. Maybe the real trick is not forgetting, I think the key might be to remember, not dwell but remember. Only the good things though, that's all that really mattered anyway. 

Yours,

Peter Van Houten

Sad Chairs

Forgotten Dreams

Things Change

Poverty

Jealousy

"And back then I wanted to be a Astronaut, I wanted to be an Architect, an Artist, a Secret Agent, a Ranger for the World Wildlife Fund, and a Hobo..." --Anis Mojgani, FOR THOSE WHO CAN STILL RIDE AN AIRPLANE LIKE ITS THE FIRST TIME.

Anis Mojgani is more than a poet, he is a mind reader and I don't know what I would do if he didn't write the things he does. I would be more lost than I am, and I would feel alone and I wouldn't have words to make me feel better.

 I'm jealous some one can make me feel that i'm not alone in this world. I want to be that person that helps someone they've never met with only the words I speak and write.

I don't think this is actually me being jealous, Anis is my freaking hero. Its like his poems are written with me in mind. Every time I read or hear his stuff I want to write and tell people that the world is messy and you need Anis to guide you through it. I just love that guy, HE UNDERSTANDS WHAT ITS LIKE TO BE HUMAN. And that's all you need.

"Cussing doesn’t come from a lack of vocabulary – I know all the other words. None of them speak the same language that my fucking heart does." - Anis Mojgani

I'm seriously OBSESSED with everything this guy says.

 I just want to be his best friend.

Yours,

Peter Van Houten

I Just Wanted To Fly

Did you know I was going to be a pilot? I was going to pay $65,000.00 to learn how to fly, it was going to be the time of my life. The best part?or was it the worst part? It wasn't just my dream. It was our dream. He had planted the dream and, It finally grew and I was so excited. We were going to share my future, and I would fly us around the world. It would be just like our Sunday morning bike rides around the lake, before I knew how to ride a bike. It would be me in the drivers seat and he would just be there. He would be proud of me and i would know how to fly.

then it was crushed.

It was 'unsafe'

It was expensive

It wasn't College

I was my dream, but now its a fantasy.

It was my mom, she said no and i had to take it because my dad isn't here to stop her. And now were leaving the idea here in Utah, while we leave. but don't you worry, my head wont be in the clouds, they'll be in the books because that's what people do. That's what the dead people do, they don't dream of flying and planes. that's too dangerous.

Yours,

Peter Van Houten