Light it up

I'm at the edge, and no one can pull me back. I don't care what the final product is at this point I just want to see everything envelop in flames and roar in the darkness that already surrounds the area.

   It was already buning when we got here, and we added more gas to the fire and it keeps exploding over and over and over, and then i notice we keep passing the ignitor.

While we wait for it to die down we start to melt to. So fucking light this bitch up. Let's watch it burn. Nothing in that house was worth saving from the start... it was too late for you, it was too late for me, and the blame hasn't got a place to rest.

I'm not going to pretend the smoke is on purpose anymore. We're a mess and the flames are helping, there making us new. So let me know when the ash settles, and the toxic air clears. You can't build a family on sand, cause that was never really a foundation.

Poor me a shot of misery, with a side of bleach

Please... Please just do me a solid, put me on the nearest bus and Send me to the gym, make my muscles call out for water and ignore it. then lend me a bottle of bleach so I can finally be pure perfection my momma is always telling me about. Do me a favour? Break my smart phone and then we will see if I can live without being intoxicated by the backlit screen. Sit me on the nearest park bench, and find my weakest link. I want you to crush my dreams and re build me to be normal, because the public school system didn't get me all the way the first time around. I'm tired of thinking for forever and planning for the future, because no one is getting out of here alive and tomorrow could be my day to die, and I don't want my last moment to be thinking about Pi... Let me play on the yellow line that scares you all so much and try to wreck my day. I choose to be happy, and I choose to be here. If you want me to stop, then I guess we should appear at work tomorrow morning at 9:00am sharp so we will make it to our lunch hour at exactly 11:35, we will have only 30-3 quarters of an hour to race the rest of the millions to eat something we can't afford, and when we finish our day at half past 5, we will sit on the freeway with McDonald's salty fries and think about the days we spent in out tenth grade English class, and think about the ways we conformed to adulthood tasks. By the time you arrive home you'll try reading this again, and poor yourself a glass full of bleach for yourself, because we all think we should suffer for the world is our little hell.

I never want to forget

One day from now, you won't remember the sound of the fire alarm.

One week from now you won't remember the stain on your white shoes, and another two weeks after that you won't remember the colour of the dress you wore to the prom.

Three months from the day, the smell of the ocean will be only but a distant dream, and you'll be spending the rest of time thinking, 'the push and pull of the shoreline is missing something important.'

A year and a half from now the sound of that song you love won't make you laugh anymore. And the lyrics will stay wrapped in the beat you can't stand, nothing will be special about it now.

Every moment your heart beats your closer to the end, and every word you type, speak, and sing the timmer is preparing to scream.

I'm watching the invisible clock on the wall, and I can see the ships sale across the horizon in water that will never touch the bow that same way again. 

One day we will forget about our first love, and the way getting on a escalator was the most stressful task a 6 year old could think of. Your mothers voice will be but a forgotten passcode to your first phone. 

I'm scared.

And so are you.

Eventually we will forget about the fear too. 

At least you can hide your own Easter basket. 

Remember that the color in the sky is there right now... And one day you won't know how the clouds swirled, or the way it felt to be hugged. 

I'll remember the bad if I can keep the good too, I just never want to forget.

What feels right

And some days you've got to stop worrying about the future and just sit in your back yard and look at the stars, because that's the only way to remember what really matters anymore. You've got to love yourself, even when you don't think you can. Eat 5¢ candies till you feel sick, and when you think you're done, go to the park and swing as high as you can, and maybe you'll feel like your flying. Wake up early and see the sun dry out the dark sky, and don't think about anything but the colors swirling together like Cotten candy at the state fair. And when you feel like falling down, get your ass up, try your best to live, and do what feels right. Who needs drugs when you've got life.

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

How I'm Currently Dealing With My Problems.

What do i do?
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Get Mad
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What do i do?
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Forgive?
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What do i do?
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(No Answer)
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What do i do?
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(No Answer)
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What do i do?
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(No Answer)
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Pretend it never happened
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LIE.
LIE.
LIE.
LIE.
LIE.
TRUTH.
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Repeat Cycle OR Move on--->But I don't know how, so just keep going.

The day they said gravity was going to kill me.

"You are going to fight gravity, everyday for the rest of your life." --that dumb ass that has a medical degree

Thank you for the tip, did you print your certificate online? Bravo on your diagnostic Doctor number 75, I really didn't see that one coming.

Sometimes I can feel my rib cage turning, it sounds painful, and I guess it can be but I can deal with it.

Oneday I was lying on my bed and I felt a sharp pain where my lungs should be. And I waited till it passed then moved on.

If im going to be honest with you, I hate talking to people about it. Mostly because its always the same questions I really don't know the answers to...

Every docter has been differnt, but they are all just as clueless. There is no cure, and nobody knows how you get it. So 'treatment' is just them telling me gravity will kill me. Then I go home and think about all the the chiropractors I have seen, and wonder how many I will out live. Those bastards dont get to tell me I'll die, and they sure as hell arent going to stop me from being happy. So screw them, screw gravity, screw surgery, and screw anyone that thinks I cant live my life and have scoliosis. 

Thank you and goodnight.

Yours, 

Peter Van Houten

Tell me about the night sky.

Look at the stars, Really look at them, now tell me there's nothing magical in the world. 

Stop telling me that space is big and empty. Stop telling me the moons not made of cheese. And the next person to tell me stars are dead and burned out by the time I see them sparkle, will get punched in the face.

Why ruin it? Why don't you believe in Santa, or the tooth fairy? Why kill the dreams of the innocent?

We are the monsters that everyone fears.

We are the dream killers and We are the heartless, the worst part is no one stops us.

The moon can be made out of freaking cheese if i want it to be, and yes santa comes to visit me once a year and no its not my mom that stole my teeth and left a few dollars. Shut up and let me dream. Let me watch the magic in the sky and PLEASE tell me stories that dont make sense, because life is to short, cold, and lonly to be a dream killer. Forget science for once and be a dreamer.

Yours,

Peter Van Houten.

When my eyes close

I don't sleep ever. That's why I'm never at school. I can't close my eyes without remembering the days when we were all scared., and sometimes I can see his face in my mind, his smug mug shot makes me sick. I got a letter a year ago yesterday asking for me to appear in court with the rest of my family, I deferred the invite to breath the same air as that asshole. It makes my mother cry when I talk about how it just about claimed my sanity. I think it's easier to write about. I want to tell you the story, but I can't. It's way to hard to explain without the backstory and that will take all day. So just know that it started with a fire and ended with New Jersey. For the next 25 years it will be New Jersey, then I'm getting a gun.  Because I am not going to be scared, I want to close my eyes and see light. Not his orange jump suit.

The day I grew up

Today I grew up. I sent out my first collage application, and I'm feeling okay. A little dizzy and quite honestly out of breath. I'm realizing nothing will ever be the same after I graduate. I'm worried the world will never be so beautiful and I'll start to see things like every other person that work from 9-5.

My bones talk, but do I still listen? I have no clue what I'm doing with these damn collage applications and I am trying to figure out where I'll be living a year from now. I CAN HEAR MY BONES SCREAMING. They aren't making any sense or I'm just on a different frequency, but I can hear something and I can feel even more. It's like panic and fear all wrapped in one.  Every now and again I can make out a word to two, today this is as far as I got;

DONT ....LEFT.... BEHIND....

And then the static came back and I couldn't hear the rest. My heart is making it hard too, with all the beating in my ears, making It impossible to  understand my bones. All my bones do is translate for my heart but my bones are saying the wrong things, so my heart try's to scream over my bones hoping to get me the message. It just makes it harder. I hear it gets better. I also hear lying is a sin.

I'm sick of all of these feelings.

I just want to be.

Without all the bullshit.

Yours,

Peter Van Houten