tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10447831948201529742024-03-12T17:53:43.048-07:00Drinking to suppressed devotion Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.comBlogger59125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-55409924835851504752019-05-02T12:37:00.000-07:002019-05-02T12:37:07.075-07:00I miss being in love with you I often wonder what I would say to you if given the chance
Would I yell and scream?
Would I ignore you completely?
Do I even still have anything to say to you?
I don't know.
It wouldn't matter anyway
you broke your own heart and blamed it on me.
Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-15900168854880568032018-02-20T19:52:00.000-08:002018-02-20T19:52:41.293-08:00CJDYou were the perfect poison.
The perfect distraction from a broken heart.
The same way a cigarette is the perfect distraction from the cold.
You made me feel like I could put myself back together-- and I did. For that I'll be forever grateful.
My only mistake was falling in love with you.
You were toxic for my heart. But I can't blame you, I signed the "Terms of agreement" I just wish I had read them all the way through.. life lesson learned.
I don't know if I laugh or cried more but I'll choose to remember the laughs even though the tears taught me more about myself.
You made me resilient. You made me grow up. You made me write my own "Terms of agreement".
When I finally said goodbye I didn't feel broken like I thought I would.
I felt stronger. I felt relieved.
You were a good thing for me in the end despite everyone telling me how awful you were. They don't know the full story, they don't know how much happier I am because of all the shit you put me through.
I'm happy your chapter in my book has come to a close; but I don't regret a single page. Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-77269078542783749382018-02-20T19:09:00.000-08:002018-02-20T19:09:46.370-08:00I'm drunk so you don't have to take any of this to heart In the end the only thing I've ever wanted was to be wanted.
I want someone to think of me
miss me
want me
love me
I want someone to wish they were with me when they aren't.
I want someone who thinks I'm great
I want someone who listens to what I have to say and values it even if they disagree
I want someone who makes me feel calm and secure.
I just want someone to want me.
I just want to be wanted and to <b>feel </b>it too.
I just want love.
I have so much love to give, so so much. And no one to give it to. No one who wants it and that's what breaks my heart the most-- not that no one wants me, that no one wants my love. Not even a little bit of it. None of it.
Is something wrong with my love?
Do I love too much?
Do I love wrong?
Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-3171963166643707492017-11-28T20:06:00.000-08:002018-02-02T18:52:11.274-08:00TDRI remembered the last time you kissed me there were tears in your eyes
and you begged me not to go.
you begged me to still love you
And I smiled sadly.
I remember you walking me to my car and opening the door for me-- both physically and metaphorically.
You leaned in the frame and gave me <i>that</i> look.
I nearly decided to stay.
I remember watching your figure fade away in my rearview mirror
and my heart shattering again.
I remember you still called to make sure I got home safe, just one last time.
I still love you, I'll always love you, but we're not in love anymore.
You were my first love so you'll always have a place in my heart no matter who comes after you.
You still give me butterflies from time to time and I still think you're very handsome.
I still think about the life we could've had together, sometimes.
I think of little boys running around the house and you playing the big bad tickle monster and it makes my heart happy sad. It gives me a lump in my throat.
I want the best for you. I want you to find your own happiness. I just know that it won't be me.
xoxo
-M
Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-24435973895011748272017-11-13T08:24:00.000-08:002017-11-13T08:24:01.006-08:00I thought college was supposed to be good for meI'm so stressed I feel like my eyeballs are melting out of their sockets.
I'm so stressed I've decided to do nothing.
I'm so stressed gum is a full breakfast for the knots in my belly
I'm so stressed acne doesn't even really bother me anymore
I'm so stressed I haven't been to the grocery store in over a month.
I'm so stressed my professors look at me and wince.
I'm so stressed that my back has turned into stone.
I'm so stressed I don't even need to set alarms anymore
I'm so stressed I don't take care of anything anymore
Fucking hell man.Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-1163494927471593172017-09-13T20:59:00.002-07:002017-09-13T20:59:37.600-07:00The night I gave in and gave upI really wanted it to work with you
I really did because damn I love you.
I love you so much it hurts and really that should be my indication that something is wrong because love isn't supposed to hurt, at least not like this.
Love is supposed to make me feel warm and safe and wanted.
To date I've never felt wanted by anyone.
Sure people have lusted after me and I accepted trying to pretend and lying to myself that it was real and that it would last. But I'm not good enough to make anyone want to stay.
I've always called myself a stepping stone girl.
I'm the girl before "The One". I'm the girl that teaches you what you need to know about yourself and your place in the world so you can woo and love her the way she deserves.
I'm the girl that'll build your confidence up when it's low, enough so that you'll walk away from me.
I'm the girl that makes you want to be a better person-- but not for me.
I'm the girl that just a "good time" or someone to call when you're lonely because you know my heart is so painstakingly lonely that I'll answer and come running. Just to feel warm and pretend I'm wanted for a little while.
I'm the girl that you'll forget in time and that's fine I would forget about me too.
I really wanted it to work out with you because damn <b>I love you</b>
I love the way your smile lights up your entire face
the way your eyes sparkle when you laugh or when you're up to something
I love the way your voice sounds when you first wake up
I love the way your hands fits in mine even though you don't really hold it very often
I love the special smile that's just for me when we're in public
I love the way our bodies come together and create such sweet passion
I love the lie you made me believe.
And in the end that's the pitiful part is I knew it was a lie the whole time, I just played along because you were the only person I shared everything with and I thought maybe this time I would be "The One". That I would finally get my turn to be the one someone wanted, that I would finally be happy and have a place in this world, THAT I WOULD MATTER TO SOMEONE FOR ONCE IN MY FUCKED UP LIFE.
... but no it wasn't my time you weren't my "One" no matter how hard I tried to believe you were, no matter how many lies I told myself, no matter how badly I wanted it to be you.
I really wanted it to work, and I still do because damn I'm still so in love with you.
Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-40525037264019477472017-08-22T18:49:00.002-07:002017-09-13T21:00:25.553-07:00My heart is a slutMy heart is a slut.
She wants to give herself entirely to everyone she meets.
My heart is a slut because she doesn't care where your heart has been before she just wants it.
She doesn't care how rough the ride with be she still wants it.
My heart is a slut because she'll show anyone any part of her they want to see.
She'll give you everything... sometimes even if you don't ask.
My heart is a slut because she just loves love.
She wants all the lovin' she can get.
My heart is a slut because she doesn't care how mean or dirty you talk she'll still give you all she has to give anyway.
My heart is a slut because she isn't picky.
My heart is a slut that keeps getting taken advantage of and my heart is very very tired. Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-66290992729309058252017-05-17T09:53:00.000-07:002017-05-17T09:53:03.719-07:00This is stupid because I'm not even your girlfriendI never did anything so you'd love me, I did those things <i>because</i> I love you.
I never said anything so you'd say it back to me, I said those words so you knew.
My love is not selfish. My love is not cheap. This relationship is not a mirror-- you don't have to give me everything I give you.
I want you for what you give me on your own will.
I want you for what you already are and for what you tell me you want to be someday.
I want to be with you because of who <i>I</i> am with you.
I want you because we fit together-- if you were shaped just like me we wouldn't.
I want you because we feel natural, because we feel instinctual, because we feel real.
I want you because even after all this time, after you telling me that me raw is pretty, I still enjoy getting ready for <i>you</i>. Because despite what you may believe I do still have someone to impress.
I want you because I still fall in love.
Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-36551459799903175662017-04-28T11:35:00.002-07:002017-04-28T11:35:45.865-07:00crayon box Sometimes early in the morning I feel blue.
sometimes I don't want to get out of bed-- because what's the point?
Sometimes things I like I don't like very much.
sometimes I wanna go for long drives with a good playlist and just sit quietly and think.
I wanna drive out to some rocks to climb to the top of so I can sit and think.
think, write, think, write, think, write, over think and write about that too.
Sometimes in the afternoon I feel yellower than a canary
sometimes I feel like sunshine is pouring out of my skin
sometimes I feel sweeter than sugar
Sometimes I still feel blue.
Sometimes I'm green- because emotions are complex and I can feel many all at the same time and this is just a metaphor.
Sometimes I'm a dark lake green, other days I'm lime.
sometimes and some days I'm just Crayola green.
Sometimes in the evening I'm a dusky rose that burns into crimson.
Every part of my body feels warm and bright. A slow burning. waiting for you.
redder than Eve's apple
Sometimes I'm purple. Sometimes I'm amethyst.
sometimes in the evening I'm darker than the night sky.
and I just want to go to bed so I don't have to think about it.
Some days I'm a myriad of colors and hues. Some days I could paint you a picture. Some days I'm solid and uniform. Some days all I can give you is one tone. But isn't that normal and healthy? You have to have both ups and downs.
Some days I feel completely drained of color-- those days scare me.
Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-62264584970496086772017-04-28T11:17:00.000-07:002017-08-22T19:05:39.885-07:00If I could I wouldIf I could hold you every night I would.
If I could take you back to my home town I would.
If I could make all your dreams come true I would.
In a heartbeat.
I guess it's a tale of star-crossed lovers that you make my heart skip a beat.
Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-5626701105576351472017-04-02T21:09:00.001-07:002017-04-02T21:09:29.195-07:00Please read this and tell me I'm not crazy.I drove out to where I could see the stars hoping to find some peace from thoughts of you.
I looked up at the expanse of forever and felt more alone than I ever had before.
But still the thought of running into your arms didn't make me feel any less alone.
No memory of ours made me feel any less alone. That's when I knew love was overrated.
That's when I finally had to admit to myself that I had been lying to myself about everything. Every touch, every kiss, every laugh, every stolen moment, every lingering look, every smile, everything.
You mean nothing to me.
I could wander for hours trying to fill the void and still wouldn't feel relieved if I ended up at your doorstep.
I could lay in your arms every night and still feel cold.
You're cold. Your heart is cold. I don't really know why I ever tried to force myself to love it.
Maybe it was all for the sake of poetry, maybe I wanted to find something to cause me pain, something to cause me to feel alone so I'd write about that.
You're a mistake. One I haven't learned much from.
A mistake I keep making-- even though I don't really know why.
Maybe I like feeling unwanted, untouched, and numb.
Maybe I like it when assholes like you use and abuse my heart because it makes falling for the next one even more of a rush. Maybe I'm constantly searching for someone that won't really love me so I never have to worry about actually feeling for anyone else, or so that if they left me I'd still be okay.
I call myself a diehard romantic but I think I'm really just love sick.
I think I look for people like me, people who want others to love them but they don't really want to love anyone else.
I tried to fake it and be antiquely poetic "He was so beautiful..." "The way his eyes lit up when they looked at me..." "I love him so much..."
But I can only write the same poem in so many ways.
I can only compare you to so many sunsets before I get tired.
You were't worth the word count anyway.
Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-36391265529363006872017-03-27T22:52:00.000-07:002017-04-28T11:23:23.197-07:0003/27/2017 11:59 (last thoughts)I don't know how to say the things I need to say to you.
I don't know how to tell you that my world has gotten so much brighter since I met you.
I don't know how to tell you that I never feel alone anymore.
I don't know how to tell you that you light me up like the sky on the 4th of July.
I don't know how to tell you kissing you still gives me butterflies.
I don't know how to tell you how comforting your voice is.
I don't know how to tell you that you painted my world gold.
I don;t know how to tell you that I feel you in every smile of mine.
I don;t know how to tell you how hopeful I am since i've met you-- for a future together.
I don't know how to tell you I was rushing through my life so I could get to this moment right here.
I don't know how to tell you that you're everything to me, the moon, sun, and stars.
I don't know how to tell you that every song is about you now.
I don't know how to tell you that you're at the bottom of every bottle for me.
I don't know how to tell you how you move me even when so far away.
I don't know how to tell you that every part of me is yours for the taking.
I don't know how to tell you my happy place is next to you.
I don't know how to tell you keep me up every night.
I guess the closest I can get is saying "I love you." But that doesn't quiet encompass it all for me. Saying "I love you." doesn't tell you how you put color in the world for me, it doesn't tell you how beautiful you are. It doesn't tell you how fragile and sturdy you make me feel all at once. It doesn't tell you how I call you my baby all day. It doesn't tell you how happy I want to make you with every breath that leaves my body I just want to make you happy and feel fulfilled.
I want to hold you every night and tell you all of these things
-- but I don't know how.
It scares me to think you'll never know how much I love you because I just write about it on here for no one really to read. We could be the next epic love story-- our names branded on the hearts of all young romantics for generations to come but I choke every time you smile at me.
Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-44104635327456624842017-03-03T12:14:00.002-08:002017-03-03T12:14:16.506-08:00*hits blunt*Do you think guys have Adam's apples cause that's where the chunk of fruit got stuck when he choked after Eve told him where she got it?
Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-91652718052069304852017-02-28T01:43:00.000-08:002017-02-28T01:43:43.040-08:00It hurts because I love youI've never wanted someone so much.
never wanted to be closer, never wanted to hold tighter.
--it scares me to let you go.
because I know when I do you're running off to her.
I know she feels the same way about you that I do. We're both constantly trying to hold onto you tighter and tighter soon you're gunna have bruised ribs.
I don't want to fight for you.
I don't want to fight over you.
I don't want to want you the way I do.
I don't want you.
But god I want you.
I want you next to me every night, keeping me safe, letting me hold you and your heart close.
I want you to be mine. only mine.
I want you to forget about her.
I don't want her in your life. I hate that she's in your life. I hate you for putting her in your life, I hate you more for keeping her here.
I want to tell you I love you-- but I don't want to tell myself that.
I hate that I build a world around you.
I hate that you're my favorite person. I hate that I want to come home to you everyday.
I wish I was enough for you.
Why have I never been enough for anyone? Why did I think it would be any different with you?
I wish you'd give me a chance.
I'm so mad that she has just as much of your attention as I do-- that's shitty.
You say you don't compare us-- but I don't believe you.
You say you treat us the same-- but you chose her-- you left me hanging. Is that how you treat your "friends"? You picked her and I don't know if my heart will ever be the same.
I can't trust you now
I don't believe any of the good things you say anymore-- because you echo them to her.
I don't feel the same abut you anymore/ I hate the way I still feel.
I wish I could just let you go and be your friend. Like i'm happy you're in my life but I just can't keep living like this. I'm so in love with you. I want you more than anything. You mean the world to me. You fit me so well-- I gave most of myself to you. Does that matter to you? In a few months will I just be another girl you "got with"? Will all the times you held me carefully and kissed me tenderly and with passion mean nothing? Do you think of her when you're with me? I think i'd rather start cutting my wrists again than know the honest answer to that. You break my heart every time you look at me. You make me want to cry-- I cry over you all the time now. I hate you.
I wish I was special to you.I wish you knew all of the special ways you make my body move. you and only you. I wish you knew how much you meant to me i wish you would let me tell you how much i love you and that you'd believe me.
I wish i wish i wish i wish
But i'm not really doing anything to make it happen because i'm scared that you'll leave me and honestly a thought has never left me so hollow and cold. No thought has ever stolen my breath away but that one does. The thought of you walking away because you knew how i felt makes me want to curl in on myself and sob until theres nothing left of me but what remains in your memory.
I wish i was ballsy enough to say all of this to your face and not be afraid of what you'd say or do.
Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-58019185393386479572017-01-02T18:31:00.000-08:002017-01-02T18:31:01.016-08:00It's not fair.It's not fair that I think of you when I'm with him.
It's not fair that I dream of you at night.
It's not fair how everything I could've ever wanted lies in my arms each night but will never be mine.
It's not fair that my heart strings are the only ones getting plucked.
It's not fair that he wants to give me the world and I only want you.
It's not fair that you're so mean to me.
It's not fair that there's a spark overtime you touch me.
It's not fair that I look at you through rose tinted glasses.
It's not fair that every drunken rant is about you.
It's not fair that I'm normally so strong but around you I go weak in the knees.
It's not fair how it's all your fault but I take the fall.
It's not fair how I'm stuck in this one sided love. Why did you have to call me beautiful? Why did you kiss my neck and tell me the harsh truth? Why me?
It's not fair how you tell me I'm what you want but then you push me away.
It's not fair that I still want to stick around.Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-79468807612384246772016-12-31T20:53:00.001-08:002016-12-31T20:53:38.298-08:00I knew better.I wish you wanted me.
I wish I didn't want you to want me.
Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-42205109508495321472016-12-08T22:00:00.000-08:002016-12-08T22:00:17.355-08:00Heart Strings and Friends with Benefits After that first kiss I knew I wanted you. After the second I knew I needed more. After the third I knew I was hooked. And you kept kissing me over and over again.
At first it was easy and fun, then one month bled into two and two grew into three and three blossomed into four and now here we are and it's not the same for me.
My heart got caught up in the mix despite my head telling it to mind its own damn business. And now the altitude isn't the only thing taking my breath away. I keep tying my heart strings in knots to keep them from getting all tangled up with yours. But in the dead of night when you mumble in your sleep and pull me closer to your chest and your heartbeat echoes in my ears I'm not so sure that you don't feel the same.
I try to keep my distance and shrug it off, try to play the "cool girl". But honestly I can't sleep without you anymore.
And you just keep kissing me.....Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-47198043798855341102016-10-09T08:12:00.001-07:002016-10-09T08:12:54.246-07:00From the other side.I'm a memory. I'm a "once was". None of you may remember me, but I was<b> here<i></i></b>
I'm on the other side now. I'm outside of the fence now.
I'm out here.
Out here life happens quickly, out here life isn't as messy as you thought it would be. Out here the little things get big and the big things fade their last words ringing out "I was here."
Out here life has a lot more sunshine and naps, and a lot less love stories.
Out here midnight isn't a lonely forbidden hour reserved for poets and broken hearts. Out here looking back there just makes your heart hurt-- but in a good way. A way that reminds you that you were once <i><b>there</b></i>.
I'm out here now, where the sky is open and so is your heart. I'm out here now, where your time alone is comforting. I'm out here now, where all the strings are attached and you can run with scissors.
Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-41652957489963191272016-04-24T09:31:00.000-07:002018-02-20T19:27:18.405-08:00RNRight now I'm falling deeply, madly in love again. and again. and again. and again..... and again.
I'm in a good place. My heart is like the perfect rays of snlight that stream in through the blinds in the late morning. I'm happy with myself and those around me and I'm letting old hurts go.
Right now I smile as much as I ever have Right now it's all because of me.
Right now it's all about me; and I'm not sorry.
Right now life is good and is only getting better.
Right now up and up is the plan.
Right now.Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-6385538972731393112016-04-15T01:43:00.001-07:002016-04-15T01:43:16.515-07:00Hell hound in my chest. I remember when we were young and we had forever. I remember feeling like one in a million because I had found my one true love at the ripe age of 17-- and my happily ever after was in the mail.
I remember how special and important you made me feel, I remember singing you the only lullaby I knew hoping it was good enough.
[You are my sunshine,
my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey
you'll never know dear how much I love you.
please don't take my sunshine away]
I remember the sun shone bitterly bright the morning after you had told me I wasn't your forever anymore-- NOT that anyone else was but you just knew it wasn't me anymore.
And now anytime I think of you I have to remind myself not to fall in love.
I have to put my heart in a metaphorical straightjacket and bite my tongue. I can't listen to songs that talk about blue eyes because yours were cerulean-- and you once told me you only like girls with blue eyes.
I can't listen to the song "Banana Pancakes" because Jack's voice is overpowered by yours and I can't look at the tree where my dogs ashes are spread because you took another date there. I remember when forever was so foreboding and it was a plan A. I remember when I didn't mind rooting for the other school.
I remember our last kiss and how much it sucked. I remember hoping to run into you someplace and have you feel the "spark" again after being away from me for a while. I remember when you were the only thing I ever thought about and how you still kind of are because somehow you stained every part of my soul and turned all the facets of it to a stained glass window that has a huge piece of my heart missing causing a shadow. I remember when my parents loved you. I remember when I realized I had fallen in love and the first thing I said was "Oh shit."
I remember killing myself to be your "it" girl.
I remember wanting and trying to kill myself-- but NOT because of you.
I remember when I didn't compare every boy to you.
I remember when we went ice skating and it was me holding both of us up.
I remember when i loved the thought of being your wife.
I remember my teachers being the only ones who were really there for me when you left.
I remember screaming at the top of my lungs hoping you'd hear me from miles away.
I remember when I wanted your heart to be broken- shattered- destroyed- obliterated- smashed- reduced to rubble- to be missing a piece.
I can't forget all the bad things. How every single one of them settles in my stomach like lead but ironically that's what's keeping me afloat.
Do you remember how I smiled? Laughed? Smelled? Tasted? What your favorite things about me were? Do you remember what my love was like? Do you remember when you slow danced with me in the snow? Do you remember talking me to sleep because you cared? Do you remember how much trouble I was? And how much you loved it-- lived for it even. Do you remember breaking my heart?
Do you remember when we were young and had forever? Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-52422296158904926742016-04-10T23:12:00.000-07:002016-04-10T23:12:19.114-07:00A (small) list of warning to whomever I end up withSorry! I know this is hella rough but it was so fun to make!
Major thanks to Hannah Norton for filming and helping out!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB6KyUYNjA3g_9b4EuryLzxlPCrXPRKu45xml5kJ5n5fjS9bLrKhJQ-cnVSlVs2Jlz2xBISIMXBBZSh2NJM7IGeZ_NULY8M1JsNuFsVSE9tHfWXt3mT8tjL2RTD0RXNSozZwzZv6uXmr8/s1600/CW2+video.mp4" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB6KyUYNjA3g_9b4EuryLzxlPCrXPRKu45xml5kJ5n5fjS9bLrKhJQ-cnVSlVs2Jlz2xBISIMXBBZSh2NJM7IGeZ_NULY8M1JsNuFsVSE9tHfWXt3mT8tjL2RTD0RXNSozZwzZv6uXmr8/s320/CW2+video.mp4" /></a></div>Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-86980787155812730702016-02-23T16:32:00.000-08:002016-02-23T16:32:08.369-08:00I listened to my sad playlist on the way home today...I wish I could be who you thought I was.
I wish I could be who my grandparents think I am.
I wish I was who I pretended to be. Inside and out- in all things.
I wish I was as great as my dog thinks I am- I wish <i>people</i> got just as excited to see me.
Where's a genie when I need one? I wish Robin Williams could be my genie again.
I wish I could actually say these words out loud, and not hide pitifully behind qwerty.
Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-89253230941877069412016-02-21T20:16:00.000-08:002016-02-21T20:16:34.504-08:00mash<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmNKrFLPv_fnyNQI5pMq1hYHkUul5SWSJHli_Fzt7BStU41MJ4q3Y_hZvZSR5nSJmrKEZmaOhuKe2shIqdyw_DaMLgJ8qi4GXPTQcdaXDjPiKCxGZzhvDJey_FJTOCQhmPHNJjBI3nB18/s1600/IMG_3501.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmNKrFLPv_fnyNQI5pMq1hYHkUul5SWSJHli_Fzt7BStU41MJ4q3Y_hZvZSR5nSJmrKEZmaOhuKe2shIqdyw_DaMLgJ8qi4GXPTQcdaXDjPiKCxGZzhvDJey_FJTOCQhmPHNJjBI3nB18/s320/IMG_3501.JPG" /></a></div>Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-69649211792391651522016-02-14T18:44:00.001-08:002016-02-14T18:44:36.593-08:00LOVEI've been in what I thought was love. It was one hell of a ride.
bumpy.
fast.
and ew it totally sounds like i'm talking about bad sex right now.
it was just two high school hearts gone awry.
but I've burned that love and smiled as I poured on another can of gasoline.
i'm in like now, in sweet and tender like. the only one I love is myself and that's fine for now.
Love is this huge overrated thing. like do you honestly expect to find someone who completes you? someone who just gets you? someone who makes you feel like you're sailing on pristine waters in the virgin dawn? well I've got news for you kid, you're gunna meet A LOT of people that make you feel that way. and none I repeat NONE of them will be perfect so you're going to have to lower your standards.
Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1044783194820152974.post-957599424618020602016-01-31T21:03:00.002-08:002016-01-31T21:03:35.304-08:00Name:__________________________I'm kind of like a crappy eraser. I look like I have purpose and seem to be useful but when put into action I just make everything a big mess. I'm decaf coffee, sounded like a good idea at the time but now it's 5:26 and those bags under your eyes are designer.
I like my shoes to match my top which ends up making me as a whole look like a weird walking set of stripes. I don't like icing or frosting (and I don't know the difference) so I scoop it off my oreos.
I shine brighter than the sun on a sunny day in Florida though, and I'll always make you feel welcome and smile. I'm the feeling you get when you just barely make your bus.
I'm too happy in the morning, I'm too nice to people I just met, if traditional bubblegum flavor was a person- hi nice to meet ya!
I get distracted by shiny things and always somehow manage to have dirt on me.
I like the feeling you get when you stand next to someone hella tall or when you're falling and time slows wayyyyy down and gravity pushes just as hard as it pulls for a second.
Hi I'm Megan Dzierzanowski. (Diz-naw-ski) Edith Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16456836113272768714noreply@blogger.com3