to infinity and beyond.

I miss you so much that my body and stomach ache to just feel you, feel how it feels to be in your arms. I'm laying here, in the only occupied spot of my bed, watching you sleep and I can feel everything inside of my body being pulled in your direction. Through the screen and sliding in next to you. Gentle or I'll wake you. Feeling you breathe beneath my arm sends warmth through my fingertips and the sensation travels through my entire body. I can close my eyes and feel the fabric of your clothing on my bare arm and neck and I want to nuzzle deeper, try to get so far in that I'll never come back. So deep I can stay there forever. You mumble something briefly and I imagine what it will feel like to lay next to you at night and hear that muffled language right next to my ear.

I can feel your arms wrapping tighter around my body when I close my eyes and half expect to be next to you when I open them again. I'm not one for patience, this you know, but I am willing to wait for this. It will be the best kept surprise I ever keep because I'm bound to catch my breath when it finally happens; swept off my feet all over again, feeling the surprise that it still feels just like it did the first time. I never want to stop feeling this for you. I never want to wake up or open my eyes. Can we stay intertwined in this dream of the future? Just a moment longer and then you can do the important things like finals and school and graduating and work. But for now, hold me tight and keep your eyes closed.

Our day will come soon. I know this. But remember when I said patience wasn't my strong suit? You'll have to work with me on this. It's not going to be easy but nothing worth it ever comes easily. You're the most worth it addition to my life I have encountered. I don't want to lose that bond, that connection. I want to be yours. I want you to be mine.

I should have given this to you a while ago but you know these promises aren't new. You knew then too but I want you too be able to look down and see the metallic symbolism anytime you forget or just need a reason to smile. I want this to be a promise. So I want you to know it's from my heart. It's not a decision to keep a promise or not to. If you make that promise, you keep it. Let me keep you? I promise to do the following:

1. Understand fully that nothing comes easy that is worth something amazing.
2. Remind you anytime you forget that I love you.
3. Treat you in the way you deserve.
4. Always be faithful to you.
5. Take you in my arms when you're crying or upset and try to make everything better or just sit there with you, listening to you talk.
6. Sit up at night every once in a while to just watch you sleep.
7. Keep our apartment clean when we move in together.
8. Show you every day that I was a good choice and make you proud.
9. Hold your hand when we're walking even two feet.
10. Let the hermit crabs out every once in a while.
11. Blow raspberries on your tummy ... an neck ... and arms. :)
12. See fireworks every time we kiss even if it's just a peck.
13. Let you get TWO animals of your choice when we get a HOUSE. ;)
14. Keep you warm every winter.
15. Go to the beach with you every summer after I get a car ... even before California.
16. Cuddle with you every night when we have our own place.
17. Help make you feel at home wherever we are.
18. Never stop giving you grand gestures (I couldn't even if I wanted to) :)
19. Never stop giving you the little things too.
20. Let you decorate the kitchen however you want.
21. Let you teach me how to cook.
22. Cook for you just as often as you cook for me. (That's not saying it's all going to be good)
23. Let you rant and rave to me whenever you have a bad day.
24. Take care of you when you're all sick and pukey and helpless (whether you're sick or just sloshed) ;)
25. To not break any of these promises.

To infinity and beyond?

watching the lessons unfold.

Love is a dance; a song that won't dare to be sung. It's impossible to put all the feelings in a single note. Splay out the sheet music and begin the orchestra.

My arms were wrapped around you and I was unaware of what I was beginning, what new path was about to be walked. You opened my eyes and let the beauty in. Now we're here, starting to realize what we're holding. So close. So far away. So exciting and new. We're frozen, speechless, and wondering what will happen next. I had a feeling this was going to lead somewhere amazing. My eyes wouldn't leave your smile, your eyes, your face, your hair, your hands, your body; you. My feet wouldn't touch the ground to walk away. My keys wouldn't go in the ignition right. Driving away, I felt the urge to push down on the break. Just one more smile, one more thought, one more kiss. Curfew was calling my name but I wanted to keep that moment, bottle it up and hide it away. Somewhere far where time doesn't matter anymore and it's just this moment, right here and now.

We talked about families and friends, entered into another person's world. I thought those doors were closed for me yet here you are, opening my mind and heart as easily as if you had the right key. You were hiding it, waiting for me.

Your head is on my stomach and we're in the bliss of everything; every touch, every kiss, every expression, every word.

I've been talking to my grandparents, dad, and mom again. I tried to push them all away but they push right back and want to stay and that's one good thing I have. I'm going to make this cloud above me disappear and be gone. I can feel a punch inside my heartbeat on the floor. Restarting the engine; let's get going.

The 19th comes so soon every month and I have the selfishness of not being strong enough. My father tells me to try to be responsible. My mother loves me but not the way he does. She looks out for me. She's not afraid to tell me when she thinks I'm being foolish. A mothers job never really stops, I've come to realize. Once you make that commitment, it's a 24/7 job for the rest of your life. Not a job necessarily but definitely something that takes hard work, long hours, and dedication. You have to know true love before you can raise a human being.

A little album with photographs from a life before the one she leads now used to sit in her office bookshelf. A moment when she loved to kiss someone else. She knew the truth about love and how no matter how true, sometimes the pages get torn or the entire sheet music gets tossed in a fire. She felt her heart tear and rip and watched it get mended over again when she opened herself to a new love. The endless cycle of sifting through everyone who could ever hurt you yet finding the one who is always worth fighting for. Because when they hurt you, you know it's because you care, there's something there. There's that string connecting your hearts and it's being tested. Everyone will hurt you in one way or another if you love them. It's a part of growing and experiencing different feelings, different emotions. You just have to find the right person to go on that journey with. Whether the road be paved or tattered, know that you will travel it only with the ones who care the most by your side, through it all.

We are each given a road. It's up to us as to who travels it with us.

What do you believe in?

Well?

Let's hear it ...

we can own this night.

Please read this and write in the comments section what you think it's about. This is an experiment with writing that I'm doing. There is no wrong answer!!!! Write whatever you feel it's about. The more unique, the better. Once you write an opion, I'll message you on facebook and explain what I did/what it means.

The morning after is an attempt to say we owned the night.

Game over, finish him!

I hate the beach. 

What would you say 

if I let go?

This is it. You're hiding all the right things for forty five days. Emotion is screaming for you to stay with me
but you can't be real with me.

I'm trying to refrain from being in a town like this but you'd say I was trying to have the life of a pirate. You say you're California bound so can you show me what I'm looking for? Turn back the time to before December, when we were together with the sun down.

If the moon fell down tonight,
would you be coming clean?

Tell me the truth about the love note where you told me to never change?
All those nights and that lovely sound.
I'm ready and I need this more than you know.

You're all around me and I can breathe today; I feel fully alive. And suddenly, for one night only, we're so high in this. Do I have to leave? Aren't you scared I'll fall asleep at the wheel? Just say anything and I'll stay. Every time we touch, I'm amazed. I have a troubled mind but I love your existence, simply and perfectly.

I guess I wouldn't mind if we blamed it on the rain
because you say a mess it grows.

I'm finally proud and you're anchors away; headed back to the East Coast.

With diamonds and daisies, I'm trying to get closer to you. Under the stars that were forgotten, I miss you. I know love versus life is stupid but I need you for both.

I've got a feeling these streets trail seven letters. Sunlight and photographs help me to breathe again. It's just been one of those days again.

The one you knew is still here
but I'm living with the fear you won't fall.

Please don't look away.

I'd rather be with you but, as fate has it, one of those days next winter you'll be free of me. I will no longer have a friend like you.

All the stars in the sky, they bring me to you and you look lovely tonight. I'm leading someone else's life. I keep saying to myself that everything will be alright because you're beautiful in my eyes. You fell from a star but if we're just friends, we can't have your Candy Land wedding.

I still believe I could be good to you.

There's a girl with beautiful eyes and I just can't breathe when you take my hand.
Be my runaway and this could be a moment or a lifetime.

All night is alright but don't call it sunrise until you put your hands against the sky. Dreamers and believers are going to take over so stop this restless motion.

Timing isn't your thing yet I'm headed for the West Coast, our planes passing as we travel. We're kids in love and you're my miss magazine. Dear time traveler, a formal introduction would have been nice. Yes, even stars break but we've got the rain on our side.

Come what may but even you have to admit
there's beauty
in the breakdown.

Her eyes say yes and we're alone with the sunrise at last.

Get a grip, time bomb baby.

the cycle.

Have you ever been so afraid of something that you're so passionate about? Something you long for, hope for, and need yet it's scares you so much you don't want to do it. Every sense in my body tingles when I think about it. My chest tightens and I get a longing like I've never experienced before. It's the one thing I want to do before I die but there are so many things telling me no. Telling me don't do this. Change history. Don't let the cycle continue. And do it because you love this longing so deeply. You tell yourself it's the right thing to do, let it go. You know what comes out of it, you already know what will probably happen so shouldn't you do the right thing? Is it the right thing? Are you just crazy? Can you change the cycle by going through with it and hoping that you're different? Are you up for that kind of challenge? And THEN you think to yourself, if you want it soooo badly, why can't you change history? All on your own.

What about when you surprise yourself? You've always been this way, haven't you? You know how to hurt and be hurt. You know what's wrong and what's right and you blur the lines in your head. Because you're just like him. Trial and error. More errors than expected. The data gets too numerous to work with. You start forgetting dates and moments and little things that should be easy. Yet you still forget the big stuff too? The important stuff holding your plan together. All of those years. All of those mistakes. How do you stop a cycle like that? Something that seemed to be apart of you. Then you finally break free. What, are you a bird trapped in a cage? No. You could have done this all along. You just didn't try hard enough. Or maybe it's the girl. Maybe it's the past relationships. Back to trial and error again. But no matter how you paint the picture, you still deflected it when it was presented to you. You turned away and said no. And you did it with no effort. You just changed your history in one single defining moment. And that's when you realize it too. Not later, thinking back on it. Right then and there. So maybe it takes the right experience or the right girl.

my protection.

I'm not naive, I'm not a child and I'm not oblivious to facts. Everyone dies. It's a part of life. But who made the rule that the young people with a life ahead of them could leave as easily and abruptly? Don't tell me that life isn't fair; you don't need to be a genius to realize that. But this really isn't fair. Beyond the usual unfairness of life.

Amanda Keiffer was one of my best friends. We were going on five years of friendship, shared two apartments and countless memories. This past Friday evening I got a text message asking what happened to her like there was something I should have known. I called another friend to find out what was going on and found out the girl who I had called my "buddy" since 10th grade had passed away that morning. In one instant, my life was halted. I couldn't breathe and couldn't stop crying. I was sitting out on my great grandmothers porch with Julia when I found out. I had been there for a going away dinner that was being held for me since I was leaving the following day for Nashville, TN. Moments after I got off the phone, my mom came walking around the back of the house and I ran into her arms. I was so glad that she had showed up when she did. I felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest and I desperately needed her to just hold me. She hugged me tight for the first time in such a long time and I felt my pain entering her, like she was sharing it with me, understanding me.

We had so many memories. She was the one friend who was allowed to call me "buddy". She always told me she loved me before hanging up the phone. She got me addicted to Petville on facebook (yeah, I'll admit it). She really listened to me when I needed her. She was like my twin. We had so much in common in ways that I hadn't found in anyone else.

I saw your body today. I knew you weren't there anymore. Your mind and heart and spirit were gone. Your pale face ripped at my heart. It didn't look like you. There was a moment where I could have sworn I saw you breathing. I didn't tell anyone that. I felt crazy, hopeful. They can be the same thing sometimes. I remember reaching out to touch your chest and felt it under my palm; stiff and still just like I had imagined it would be. Tears poured through and grazed over the edges of my eyes so easily. I felt my chest weighing heavy, I could barely breathe. I wanted to hold your hand and feel you squeeze back, feel your presence one more time, hear your voice. Anything.

I called your phone in hopes of hearing you but I got nothing. Did you get my text message? I sent it while I was sitting behind the herse on the way to the church. There were pictures of us. Did you see them? Do you remember when they were taken? Do you remember sharing the memories? Do you see me now? Bent and bleeding, begging for this all to be some horrific nightmare. Pinch me. Wake me up. And then hug me tight and tell me that you're ok. Tell me you'll grow old with me. Tell me we'll both get married. Tell me there will be a day when our kids will play together. Tell me that you'll be living out a full life, a long life. Tell me this is all a dream.

 I made a playlist of your favorite songs to put on my iPod. So maybe when I'm really missing you and wishing we could sing them together, I can put them on to soothe me. Or if I need a good cry. Or a better memory. You always said I knew your taste in music. You, sappy music enthusiast. Remember "If It Means a Lot to You" or "Your Guardian Angel"? Be my angel, Amanda? Stay with me. Hold me in my sleep when dreams of our past haunt me, pat me on the back and encourage me when I'm about to take a really hard test, hold my hand as I walk onto the stage when I graduate? Yell from the audience when my name gets called like I know you'd do if you could be there in person.

I was in Levittown the day before you passed. I tried getting a hold of you so I could see you and found out you moved out of that damn area. Moved out of the bad and into a better, more stable situation. I remember telling Julia that I was glad, I was hoping you could have an easier time getting clean. I thought, like me, you were getting out finally. I thought you were starting your life. I wanted you to be safe. I wanted you to survive. I wanted you to be ok. Now you're gone and there's nothing I can do to change that. I scream to the heavens, to the sky, to wherever you are. Can you hear my cries? Can you hear me down here pleading for this to change? To bring you back. For me, for your family, for Melissa, for your friends, for all the people who loved you.

You would have wanted it to be different. You wanted a life. You wanted to get better. We talked about it all the time. You told me how we were going to be best friends until the end.

At least I can rest knowing I was yours until your end. 

 

 

Who am I kidding? Ever heard of the stages of grief? Well there should be a stage called the "Selfish Stage" because all I can think about now is how much I want you back here. All I can think about is how much I miss you and how unfair this all is.

You will always live in my heart and mind. All the way up until my last breath. Sometimes it takes a great person to pass for others to realize that what they're doing isn't right. Maybe your death was a message to everyone who loves and cares for you. Maybe you're trying to tell us to get our act together, to get out in your honor, to clean up in your honor. I am doing this for myself but you are my strength. Whenever I think that I can't go on or keep up with my life, I'm going to remember you and remember how you wouldn't want me to give up. I promise to kick myself in the ass and work my hardest for the next three years to get to that stage if you promise to walk it with me. Every step of the way. Every passing moment I better feel you by my side. I understand other people need you too but there has to be a way to be in more than one place at a time. You gave me the strength and the courage to keep going.

I remember the last time I talked to you. It was the night that I had everything happen at my dad's. You were trying to find me a place to go. I remember you telling me it was going to be ok and that you loved me. I will never forget you. You were my rock through the good and the bad. You were always there for me. No matter what.

I love you too, Amanda Marie Keiffer.
I love you too.

puppet show.

Sitting under the stars, I look to the sky and wonder where you are. A glimmer flashes across the sky and my eyes close. I hide in my thoughts and make a wish to outshine the rest. Squinting, I catch a glimpse of a far off silhouette on the edge of the moon. Hand raised, pleading to be recognized. I lift my arms up, let my eyes close again, and go inside myself to a part I rarely allow myself to visit.

I feel the ground disappear beneath my feet as my body is lifted up. All of my energy is forced through my bones, skin, muscle. All in order to reach the space that you occupy in the clouds. Your smile fades as I climb the rope to where you stand. Tears begin to fill your eyes and the sun catches a flash in your hands. Reach down and cut me loose. Let me fall back down. I was so close. I was almost there.

But your heart had other plans, 

other ambitions, 

a hidden agenda.

The ground hits me harder each time. I try to reach for you but your life is closed to me. Your heart and mind no longer hold a chair for me. The place I used to have on your front porch is now home to a black hole. Trying to fill the space and I just get sucked back into the vortex.

Hope lingered in my throat and I had to catch it, not let it escape. I think I knew you would trick me. I think I knew you would hurt me.

You never mean to. If I look close enough, I can clearly see the thin strands that are now attached to your wrists and ankles. Puppet dear, use those scissors for something useful. But I can't tell you what to do. I can't voice my hope or my desire.

I lost that privlege long ago. 

I just want to know why you keep me here. Why your voice visits me in my sleep, begging me to join the stars time and time again. Just to be pushed off the ladder, just to fall back down. I can hear the smile in your voice through the reciever again, I can hear the longing for what used to be there.

Give it time, puppet. That longing will soon be pulled from your lungs and the smile will be replaced with a rasping cough, a feeble attempt to keep the tears from falling. Have you already forgotten that I know you well enough to know how it ends? Have you already forgotten that I know what it means the moment your voice changes? And my heart sinks every time. Like I expected something different. Don't ask why because I don't know the answer. I ask myself all the time.

So why do I keep hitting the talk button?

Because I don't want to let this go. I have enough pride and respect to know that what we had aside from our romance was real and true and you know me in a way that no one else ever will. Find yourself on my porch steps at the end of your life and you'll see me there, sitting next to a vacant chair. It's here waiting for you.

Whenever you're ready to accept it. 

Whenever you're ready to admit it. 

Whenever you're ready to answer that wish.

Don't make any promises though. Remember, I know how it ends.

somewhere in the middle.

Open your eyes and someone will love their color. 

Open your arms and someone will hold your body close. 

Open your mind and you are finally free.

I know that distance will soon be a factor again. I've lost before so I know how tightly I have to hold. Tight enough to keep you. Loose enough to let you breathe. My face will stay frozen, my gaze will never waver. But, I promise, I'm just as scared as you are.

I will take these moments and lock them away. Treasure each laugh, remember the taste of every kiss, memorize every inch of your hands so that I never forget how it feels to hold them in mine. I promise to make every step I make count because, in the end, it's one step closer to you. I promise to keep a box to hold our secrets. Don't let them know you're shaking. Make sure they see your head held high. Nights will be more than enough to yearn for. One more graze of your cheek, one more moment in your eyes, one more moment in between everything else.

I'm splaying out my cards for you. 

Take your pick. 

I will be behind you with whatever you chose. 

Do you like my hand? Do you like the choices? Or do you feel your stomach turn? Do you feel my heart racing? Trying to stay calm was never a card. I can't read your mind so let me in, let me feel what you feel. Open your mouth and lay a map of your uncertainties in front of me. I won't view you differently. You're still strong in my eyes.

Maybe we can create a road to meet in the middle. A barren, deserted road that only we can travel. Bookbag slung onto my bag. I'll bring my heart wrapped in tinfoil and exchange it for a kiss, a touch of fingertips, a memory to share.

We'll meet under the moon every midnight, picnic in the middle of an open field with a single tree to climb together. If we reach the top, we can pretend it's our own world, away from everything else.

Pick your favorite

-the brightest- 

star 

and we can wish for that road together.

If you close your eyes, you can create a house up on a hill somewhere far away. A place where we can run away to. A place for just us. A place to share our lives. And when we open our eyes again, we can pick ourselves up and move forward.

Move towards the tree in the clouds. The tree that holds our memories on each leaf. It's growing with every day that passes.

Survive the seasons with me ...

somewhere in the middle.

straighten up.

There are always people who make you really reflect. Always in different ways. My favorite is to reflect on friendships. It took me a while to realize that people have treated me like shit. People who I confided in. People who I cared about. People who I thought cared about me. And maybe they did. But they had the worst ways of showing it to me. Maybe it's how they were brought up. Take care of yourself and fuck everyone else.

Fend for yourself and survive ... or don't at all. 

Simple enough. 

But it breaks hearts. 

It hurts views.

All for one ...

fuck the second part.

Sometimes people walk into your life, stay there, and make no difference. Then others walk in for a moment and change you forever. Let's hold tight to the change and the cause. Meet me in the middle of the night, bring some coffee and cigarettes, and talk till the sun rises. Lose time with me and make me remember what it means to have someone who cares.

This is new to me because while I've always had friends, always got along with everyone, I always found it hard to be friends with and become "one of the girls". I lost a lot of girl friends when I came out and it scarred me, made me wonder if I could ever be truly close with someone like that again.

What are they thinking? 

Are they afraid I'm going to hit on them? 

Do they think I'm crushing? 

Can I compliment them without there being a hidden agenda?

Do they want the friendship I want or are they nervous? 

Scared even.

We share hearts, 

tears, 

laughter.

We aren't breaking rules beneath the stars.

We are making our own

rules,

inside jokes,

shoulders to lean on.

Stay here a moment longer. I want to lay in the friendship we've created; swim in the words we've shared. The ease is present as I open up and allow my words, uncensored, to flow from my lips to your ears and I can feel you listening to me. I can feel you taking it in. And you have no idea what it all means to me. How much I really appreciate it.

Take a drag of my mind.

Inhale 

my thoughts, 

views, 

experiences.
And I'll do the same for you.

Friendship caught in my throat.
You're making me feel again.

entre nos

From day one, I never gave up. So what has happened to me these past few months? These past few years?

Between you and me, I'm not a quitter. 

Between you and me, I want a better life.

Between you and me, I'm already on my way.

So here are a few new rules to live by, a few new things to keep world peace. I'm not one for rules and I'm not one for guidelines but drastic times call for drastic measures. And they're not so much rules anyway. More like something to stand by more often, something to work towards, something that will help me.

No more drugs.

No more lies.

Start working harder.

Stop trusting everyone.

Get a job.

Start school at Bucks and prove to him I'm driven.

Get a car.

Prove to her that I'm better than this.

Build a better relationship with my mom.

Stop caring what people think.

Don't talk to her until I move to California.

Start building a portfolio.

Get a video camera.

Get a photography camera.

And between you and me ...

Start documenting my journey.

electric from fingertips.

I stand in the living room and look out the big windows at the trees. All naked and scrawny. Not good for climbing. Not strong with thick leaves and fat branches you can swing up on and climb into and disappear. Sometimes from somewhere over my bed at night, I look down and I see me. I'm not that little kid anymore, I'm not all lazy and warm and bad. I'm just this bigger kid.

Shifting through the sands of time, like eternity can last only one small second in your mind. Flipping through the pages of an old, worn book that tells the story of millions ...

it's two pages long.  

The print is large but the book seems so small, clutched by a little boy of six who knows everything about everyone because he read the book fifty million times over. 

He read about wars, lovers, peace, hatred, sadness ... life. All in a few minutes. Just a few minutes of his wasting day, as the sands of his life drift slowly out of a large jar by his feet that has his name sketched in red on the front. He picks up the fallen sand and puts it back in, with hopes that by doing so, his life would last a little longer, but this only makes his life shorter. So he's stopped caring about the sand and just stands there, holding onto the book of time, a blank expression on his pale face. 

He's seen more than any child the age of six ever should but he found this book and pasted it to his mind; threaded the needle and fished it through his right hand, attaching himself to the book. Dry blood clings from his now old and worn hand; they're the first to age. His right hand looks that of an old man's who has been through far worse and now holds the weight of time, not the world (time is much heavier), in the palm of what would look to be an eighty-year-old's hand. He's counting down the minutes until it falls completely off his wrist and to the floor. When that day comes, he'll do his best to weave some more thread and lace himself with the book once more; maybe on his leg this time or his still young shoulder. 

Until that day comes,
he just waits,
ages,
and watches as other people's lives
slip helplessly and soundlessly
into a great abyss of forever.

The keyboard hammered into my brain as my complacent fingers soared over the strategically placed keys. I felt as though I was invading the spots that they held; each one cursing me as I typed. But in that moment, I didn't care, I had too many things that had to be said, had to be stated, had to be written down. My fingers outlined and traced a life that was once my own but now that it was down on the screen in front of me, it was no longer mine to claim. It took on a tactical life of its own and, soon, it had become something I no longer knew, no longer could affiliate with. I was only the typist; I was not the one in the story anymore.

Before I could release my fingertips from the enticing letters that drew out a story of heartache, love, mystery, and life, I knew that something was being created … and it was beautiful. The screen mocked me and challenged me to do better but nothing seemed to fit. I tried different words for the same meaning; life, existence, being, time, living, verve, days, weeks, years … but none of them could describe what the electricity was creating.

That's what I called it; 

electricity. 

My own personal current of time and space and, most importantly, thoughts. The words would form in my mind, move down through my arm like an electric current as it picked out pieces of the story it liked, and bolted from my fingertips to the keys that cursed me as I continued to hammer out the life that I was creating. The life of an atomic bomb, maybe. Or a child who lived in a far away county. Or maybe it was a fairy tale; a beautiful temptress with long flowing hair who tricks her lover into marrying her for his money; wait, that was my mother, not a fairy tale.

six years in december.

When you lose someone in a self-inflicted tragedy, you always wonder. You spend the rest of your life wondering. But when you lose someone in a self-inflicted tragedy and you're there with them when they pass, you spend the rest of your life, not wondering, not asking yourself a thousand questions, but remembering. You can't stop that memory from returning. You spend the rest of your days remembering. You remember their eyes, their mouth, the smell of the room, the last thing they said aloud. For Dan it was, "I won't be far." I remember thinking that he meant that he knew everything was going to be ok. But then I realized that he meant something so much more.

When I heard he was in the hospital, I didn't understand who was screaming until my father covered my mouth with his hand. That moment it was Dan who I thought I might lose forever and I wouldn't let anyone touch me again until I knew he'd live.

He didn't want to be cremated. He wanted to be buried with all his old rock records. Ron never knew what his son wanted. He always thought he knew better than anyone else, especially when he was drunk. He knew Dan was suicidal but he didn't care. I was supposed to be the suicide watch. And I think that he was disappointed in me that I couldn't save his son for him.

The shadows moved across my blanket, the wall behind me. People were just like that. We couldn't even see each other, just the shadows moving, pushed by unseen winds. What difference did it make if I was here or somewhere else? I couldn't keep him alive.

Dan, you used to make me smile; do you remember those days? Those days where we made root beer floats even if it was winter and played hooky every once in a while because you missed swinging on the swings with me. To this day, I can still feel close to the sky when I'm on a swing and I can feel you pushing me from behind. I won't keep talking about it because I'm supposed to be angry with you and I can't afford to break; I can't afford to cry.

go to bed, damnit.

I got together with a friend of mine yesterday and while we decided to talk about decently mundane topics and recent gossip, we ended up touching on a subject that I now can't get out of my mind. Something that seems so irrelevant and even argue-free in a way. Youth curfews. Ok, ok. I know. Not something I would usually write about. But hey, I like debating. I don't always just write about love and family. I can dig deeper than that. Well, I hope I can. We're about to find out.

Believe it or not, there are many pros and cons for youth curfews and I would like to touch on a few of them.

Youth curfews are widely used in the USA to keep children off the street at night; a state of curfew makes it illegal to be out of doors between certain publicized times. In the USA over 300 individual towns have passed local curfew laws that vary in detail, but are all aimed at reducing juvenile crime and gang activity. In Britain a 1998 law allowed local councils to impose curfews for all children under ten, although none has yet chosen to do so. In defining the motion the proposition should think about the age groups at which the curfew is aimed, the hours it would operate, the penalties for offenders and any possible exceptions. For example, is it permitted to be out in the company of an adult?

You learn a lot when you live in two totally different places for most of your life. In my case, I've been bouncing from hickville (Morgantown, PA) to Leave-it-town (Levittown, PA) ever since I was about 4 years old. They are a single hour in distance from each other but going from one to another feels like traveling between two different planets. But despite all of their differences, youth crime is still a major and growing problem, often involving both drugs and violence (no matter where you're from). Particularly worrying is the rise of youth gangs who can terrorize urban areas and create a social climate in which criminality becomes a norm. Imposing youth curfews can help to solve these problems, as they keep young people off the street, and therefore out of trouble, and prevent them from congregating in the hours of darkness. Curfews are easy to police compared to other forms of crime prevention, and are therefore effective.

On the other hand, curfews are surprisingly not an effective solution to the problem of youth crime. Research in the USA suggests that there is no link between areas that achieved a reduction in juvenile crime and areas with youth curfews. Although some places did see a reduction in youth crime, this often had more to do with other strategies, such as zero-tolerance policing, or with demographic and economic changes affecting the numbers and prospects of youth people. In any case, most juvenile crime appears to take place between 3 p.m. and 8 p.m., after the end of school and before working parents return home, rather than in the hours covered by curfews. I think that this is because kids know that when mommy and daddy aren't home, they can get away with more. Curfew or not, kids aren't dumb. They know that they're more likely to get away with something when their parents aren't home and they're on their own instead of trying to sneak around at night.

But the use of child curfews can help to protect vulnerable children. Although responsible parents do not let young children out in the streets after dark, not all parents are responsible and inevitably their children suffer, both from crime and in accidents, and are likely to fall into bad habits. Just because you have the ability to create a human does not mean that you all of a sudden know how to take care of it or teach it or look after it. Society should ensure that such neglected children are returned home safely and that their parents are made to face up to their responsibilities.

Some say that youth curfews infringe upon individual rights and liberties. Children have a right to freedom of movement and assembly which curfews directly undermine, by criminalizing their simple presence in a public space. What right do adults have taking away human rights from children? Should it be allowed or is it wrong? This reverses the presumption of innocence by assuming all young people are potential law-breakers. They are also subject to blanket discrimination on the grounds of age, despite the fact that only a few young people ever commit a criminal offense and that adults too commit crime. Furthermore, curfews infringe upon the rights of parents to bring up their children as they choose. Simply because we dislike the way some parents treat their children should not mean that we intervene to stop it; should we intervene in families where religious beliefs mean girls are treated as inferior to boys, or in homes where corporal punishment is practiced?

All legal babble aside, aren't we forgetting that we're talking about children here? Not adults who have lived and learned and are able to make their own choices. There is no good reason for children to be out unaccompanied late at night, so a curfew is not really a restriction upon their liberty. They would be better off at home doing schoolwork and interacting with the rest of their families.

But what about the children in their mid-teens that have many legitimate reasons to be out at night without adults? Many will have part-time jobs, for example in fast-food restaurants or delivering newspapers. Others will wish to participate in activities such as church groups, youth clubs or school trips. Requiring adults always to take them to and from such activities is unreasonable and will ensure that many never take place in the first place, either because adults are unwilling, or are unable to do so. More sinisterly, some children are subject to abuse at home and actually feel safer out on the streets.

Child curfews are a form of zero tolerance policing, showing that a community will not allow an atmosphere of lawlessness to develop. The idea of zero tolerance comes from the theory that if low-level crimes, like graffiti-spraying, window breaking and drug-dealing (all common juvenile offenses) are not acted against swiftly and effectively by the police, then a permissive atmosphere is created where violence and other serious crimes flourish and law and order breaks down entirely. Child curfews can help to the police to establish a climate of zero tolerance and to create a safer community for everyone. If we are teaching our children at a young age that it's ok to engage in crime by not being able to see what they're doing in the darkness of night, what kind of generation are we creating?

But, as we all know, we can't break them by being curfew nazis. Youth curfews have great potential for abuse, raising civil rights issues. Evidence from U.S. cities suggests that police arrest far more black children than white for curfew violations. Curfews will tend to be imposed upon poor areas in inner cities with few places for children to amuse themselves safely and within the law, compounding social exclusion with physical exclusion from public spaces. These problems will also be made worse by the inevitable deterioration in relations between the police and the young people subject to the curfew.

Child curfews can help to change a negative youth culture in which challenging the law is seen as desirable and gang membership an aspiration. Impressionable youngsters would be kept away from gang activity on the streets at night and a cycle of admiration and recruitment would be broken. By spending more time with their families and in more positive activities, such as sports and youth clubs, which curfews make a more attractive option for bored youngsters, greater self-esteem and discipline can be developed. Give them an outlet and keep them off the streets and you are bound to see a difference.

Imposing child curfews would actually be counter-productive, as it would increase juvenile offending by turning millions of generally law-abiding young people into criminals. Already in the USA, more children are charged with curfew offenses than with any other crime. Yet, once children acquire a criminal record, they cross a psychological boundary which makes it much more likely that they will perceive themselves as criminal and have much less respect for the law in general, leading to more serious forms of offending. At the same time a criminal record harms their opportunities in employment and so increases the social deprivation and desperation which breeds crime.

Other schemes aimed at reducing youth crime are desirable of themselves but will work best in conjunction with curfews. If a troubled area develops a whole culture of lawlessness, it will be very difficult to identify particular young criminals in order to rehabilitate them. A curfew takes the basically law-abiding majority off the streets, allowing the police to engage with the most difficult element. Curfews are a tool in the struggle to improve lives in run-down areas; they are likely to be used for relatively short periods of a few weeks or months in order to bring a situation under control so that other measures can be put in place and given a chance to work.

A number of alternative strategies exist which are likely to do more to reduce youth crime. For example, rather than a blanket curfew covering all young people, individual curfews could be imposed upon particular trouble-makers, perhaps involving electronic tagging, breaking up gangs without labeling an entire age-group as criminal. A Scottish scheme puts plenty of police officers on the streets at night with a brief to engage with young people, deterring crime while steering them towards a range of youth activities available at clubs set up by the local council. Other successful schemes aim to work individually with young troublemakers, in order to cut their re-offending rate, for example by requiring them to meet with victims of crime so that they understand the consequences of their actions, and by pairing them with trained mentors. You've heard of big brother, haven't you? And, no, I'm not talking about the television show. Overall, governments need to ensure good educational opportunities and employment prospects in order to bring optimism to communities where youngsters feel that their futures are pretty hopeless.

I will save this empty space next to me.

Help me examine the life I'm leading right now. I can't put on a mask and pretend that it's all ok. You can see through the plastic and paint. I know it's hard for you to look in my face, phantom of the person you met only four months ago. I'm still here. I'm still in this body. Reach out and touch my hand, you'll feel the same palm you felt the first time you touched it. Ask my heart to tell you a few secrets and I'll get the duct tape as it starts rambling about you.

I never asked for this, I never knew it would come to this. 

Your tears break me and show me how this is 

tearing you apart. 

All I want is for you to be happy 

and I'm pushing forward for that. 

I want to see a smile, 

hear your laughter.

He scares the both of us. But I will fight to live. I've made it this far, I refuse to give in. I'm stronger than that. I can do this. Around every corner is a new surprise, a new bunny in a top hat. Tomorrow is never promised, yesterday is a memory and today is a chance to live again. So will you live again? Live again with me. Stand by my side and I will show you that when tomorrow comes, we'll be stronger than we remember being just the day before.

I'm knee deep in black tar. It's pulling at my heels and my ankles, begging for me to stop, for me to give in. I can't do that. Not when I know what we have. Not when I know how hard it is to hold onto love. Forget the tar; when you lose something like this; it flies right out of reach, while you're stuck there with arms reaching out, the tar as thick as you can imagine. It's easy to let something go, it's a million times harder to hold onto it and that's exactly what I plan on doing.

Until the day comes that you tell me to stop fighting,
to stop trying; 

I'm in it till the end.

it's not your choice this time.

I feel your pulse upon my finger, string your arms around my neck. Make me wish I could take back every word I said. Every promise you ever made. Every lie I ever bought. My eyes are welling as you squeeze, there's a shortness in my breath. Don't stop now, you've already started this war so why not finish it? Erase my thoughts, erase the child within me. Why I ever thought things would be different, I am begging myself for an answer. But no words come out, no voices on display. Break the silence with a cough, a gasp and lay me down in the sand. Treat me like I never was and walk your separate way.

My side began to swell and the tears that never came broke my heart. I couldn't even cry for this man anymore. Not a single tear lifted off of my face while I stood before him.

 

You don't scare me anymore.
I stood firm and spoke clearly for the first time.

 But that never stopped you. I didn't think it would. You can scream at me, curse at me, even sit down and have a fucking civilized conversation with me but I will not let your hands come down on me anymore. One touch is all it takes. Give me five more, though. It's not enough for you. You had me at hello and you lost me at goodbye. The anger I feel could be replaced with every drop of water on this earth. You did more than leave a mark, you did more than give me a scratch.

Behind closed doors and hot bike rides, my tears come easier than they ever have before. My thoughts take over my actions and I scared myself tonight under those stars. When a child is told or proved to that the life they have means nothing to the two people that raised them and was supposed to show them love, what are they supposed to do? My breath was short but it wasn't your palms against my skin this time. Look at my tank, it's marked full.

 

Some things will never change.
Some bruises don't go away.

I close my eyes when I get too sad, I think thoughts that I know are bad. Close my eyes and I count to ten, hope it's over when I open them. I want the things that I had before like a Starwars poster on my bedroom door. I wish I could count to ten, make everything be wonderful again. I hold my mom and I hold my dad and try to figure out why they get so mad.
 

I hear them scream, I hear them fight.
They say bad words that make me want to cry.
 

I close my eyes when I go to bed and I dream of adventures that would make me smile. I feel better when I hear them say ...
everything will be wonderful some day.