Monday, December 23, 2013

If you'd like to propose.

If we got married, I'd like you to hold my hand at business parties. We'd laugh like we've got diamonds lining the tile floor. Our house would flood and you'd splash at my curled hair. It would go flat and you'd take me for snow cones and a movie. I'd sing in the car. You'd swerve the steering wheel like a drunk and the snow cones would fall over. We'd be sticky in the theatre.

I've thought about dying too many times. When your heart stops? What happens to the sighs, to the hair shakers inside my heart when it stops it's rhythmic taunt. I won't let the trickling nostalgia break that quickly. Where would your kisses go, the falling, and the catching, and the soft hello's go. These etchings of my heart have taken years to carve and I am not content with them leaving like.that.


Maybe it's a good thing. Maybe the beatings, and the waitings, and the needings, and the bleedings would leave quicker than the healings and my last thump would catch on a business party hand hold.







Just, Hazel

Sunday, December 8, 2013

just a few regular things i see in my future





I head to college

My friends do cooler things

Mom quits cross-fit

I write in cursive for the rest of my life
 
My blogs are read by the government and I’m put into house arrest

Nobody retweets me

I smell bad

But I’ve got 2 billion dollars and only half of of them are stolen from sky,000,000,000

I date Paul Varjak








Just, Hazel





goes out to the homies

Because you guys are the shit.





I remember Grace Kelly got really sick and very tired. I remember the ladder saved her. Sometimes she still gets sick, these sort of deliriums. I remember it being hopeless and the cascade of pills turned into torrents. Maxon Schreave is hot. (LOL at book references.)

I remember Mara Sera came to school in second grade for show and tell. She showed us her neck brace and I remember wondering how you would dance in a neck brace.

I remember Farrah Fawcett and she’s got the scar to prove it. Upper left foot.

I remember the first time I saw Elizabeth Woolridge grant cry. We were on the computer, and whatever was on her Facebook homepage made her cry. It must have been really bad because Elizabeth is tough like that. She didn’t wipe her eyes, she let them spill. I felt miniscule.

I remember sleeping at Rosie’s. She’s a riveter alright. Always telling us to “be nice”. Rosie the Riveter likes cuddling. 

I remember how in 9th grade, Lotus Sutra hung out with “them”.  We were twins. I remember I was afraid of her skirts. It all started from a stalker and a raspberry snack. 

I cannot forget Malark Shattux. Malark darling, I cannot. I cannot forget the worst first kiss in the world, and the best second kiss clear to Mars. The slow dance when you belted Miley Cyrus. I cannot forget being filled with good bricks. That dance could fill 93 pockets. 

I cannot forget your curly hair used to look like cauliflower. I cannot forget the first time you cried to me. I cannot forget when you let me punch you pathetically and kiss you in the same sentence. Or when you hit the steering wheel because I told you I needed time. I cannot forget how you asked me to leave because you promised you would never loose your temper at me. 

I cannot forget you trying to tell me you played guitar. You weren’t very good. I cannot forget telling you I was impressed. That was 2 years ago, and you haven’t played for me since.
I’m trying to forget the girl with white converse. The skipping my head made when you didn’t text back for 4 hours. I’m trying to forget you were with her. I threw up at the hotel, and I’m trying to forget the front desk’s complaint of the smelly mattress. 

I swear on this. 








Just, Hazel 

Sunday, November 24, 2013

Typewriter Series #2

A parking ticket.

How to love Captian Crunch


I eat cheerios. Multi-grain, whole grain, pink cheerios (valentine’s limited time offer), you name it. I’ve had it all. Mother likes cheerios. She has high cholesterol.




I used to think that sugar cereal was the answer to everything. If everyone woke up to Lucky Charms and Cookie Crisp, the world wouldn’t be so hungry for sophistication, and too full for dirtying.



IF YOU EAT CAPTAIN CRUNCH, YOU’LL NEVER DIE. CHOLESTEROL  ISN’T REAL.



Shine your shoes.  It’s a big day.  People to see.  Cereal to eat.



So you try dirtying  yourself. Captain Crunch is 10% off with the purchase of Cheerios. My mother’s cholesterol goes up.  It’s a big day for you and her.



You’re successful because you eat captain crunch and everything you ever dreamed of comes true. I said so.



Do you love me now? Will you share my speech on Facebook and tell your friends, “This girl, Hazel, she knows how to succeed!”. Will you buy my books? Or the boxes of captain crunch with my face on it? Will your in-laws hear about my Captain Crunch ordeal at Thanksgiving? You’ll send them my book for Christmas, and amazon-prime-pre-order,  my second book about Crunch Berries.


And you’ll quote me: “Cholesterol isn’t real with Captain Crunch." "You can do anything with Captain Crunch".


And you’ll love Captain Crunch. You’ll love Captain Crunch.



 Just, Hazel


The truth ^^

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Batman didn't have a super power.



It was just June and I loved you like a splinter gives just enough hurt to tell you "you have a splinter".



Have you ever killed someone?



I'm just, Hazel, tonight.