let me hate you

I hate that I don't know why I like you.
I hate that even though I hate you I crave you.
I hate that your everything I don't deserve but all that I hope for.
I hate that it was you to change me.
I hate the way that everything is ok because its you.
I hate that I can't make you stay.
I hate that you leave your scent on everything you touch.
I hate that you like the way I miss you when you aren't capable of missing me at all.
I hate the passion behind every move you make.
I hate passion, and that I never knew the meaning of the word until I met you.
I hate that no matter what they say and what you do I can't stop wanting you.
I hate that all we are are lies.
I hate that I broke for you, and continue breaking with every breath.
I hate that you make me weak when I promised I was strong.

I hate you.

I hate the way you can't see what you do.
I hate that you'll never know.
I hate that I can't hurt you even though it comes so easy for you.
I hate that hating you isn't enough.
I hate how you hide.
I hate that you push me away when I'm already running.
I hate that you draw me back because you know you can.
I hate that you hate missing me.
I hate that you aren't good enough but I'm the one that feels unworthy.
I fucking hate the way you kiss me. I wish you would stop.
I hate that that isn't true.
I hate what you've made me.
I hate that you don't see it.
I hate that what you love isn't me.
I hate that that isn't true.
I hate that you don't let me forget you.
I hate that you won't let me drown you out, but make me watch as you do.
I hate that I don't hate you at all.
God I wish I could hate you.

My first college paper. #paris

MaKayla Waters

Magen Olsen

English 1010

7 September 2014

Inspire me

Inspire me. Take me away from the spell checks, grammar mistakes, and five paragraph out line. Take away the meaningless phrases and words about stuff I only pretend to know, the semi colon, and useless indentation. Take me to a place where fiction is a reality and there are no boundaries. Where the writing process isn’t followed by a moan but rather a sigh of relief. Take away your voice and insert mine. Take me to Paris, a place of freedom, and endless opportunities, a place that’s filled with words that won’t take away an individual’s creativity but develop it.  That’s where I learned to write. No that’s where I LOVED to write.

Ok so I never actually went to Paris, I was really just referring to a low lit, white walled, dream crushing high school class room, that became my Paris.

Senior year I walked into creative writing, a class I had been dreading since my childhood. I’ll spare you my sob story of growing up in charter schools and being force fed tools, techniques, and individualized grammar courses that would teach me how to drone out my voice and transform me into robotic writing machine; Ultimately crushing my own individuality completely and burying it deep inside. You can see why a class entitled CREATIVE writing would intimidate me. Little did I know that class would change the way I viewed writing and living completely.

That first day changed everything. My teacher taught of freedom, of Paris, of places you go to find yourself, to be enriched and absorbed in a culture to not be a tourist but rather to be an artist. To find inspiration wherever you are. He taught of stealing like an artist, to seek out and read other peoples work (and I’m not talking about Charles Dickens and those other old guys but more of my peers work) to be inspired by their words in order to find my own. My teacher became my preacher. I yearned after each word he would say cause each one held a contradiction to what I had always been taught.  

I slowly started to transform my writing. I stopped over analyzing every word, cautious not to be repetitive and to never start a sentence with but. I eventually threw what I had known out the window and started over. Nelson had us create anonymous blogs where we could write about anything and everything. There were no limits. That year I took risks, lots and lots or risks. I wrote poetry and rants. I wrote about my past, and my peers. I wrote to change peoples minds about me, to make them laugh and make them cry. I stopped shutting out my feelings and wrote what I felt but never showed. I wrote for myself not for the grade.

He never worried about our grammar or word choice or if our work was in the right format. He was far more concerned on our content, and if we were learning about life just as much as we were learning to write. That man altered my opinion on just about everything I thought I knew about writing and the whole English subject itself. I was introduced to poetry and I’m not talking about Shakespeare and Robert Frost poetry. No I’m talking about SLAM. In your face life-altering words strung together then spoken in a way people can’t help but listen. He made us try it. He made us vocalize our work to preform it. That helped my writing in more ways a simple grammar tip ever could. I started hearing myself preforming each paper even if it wasn’t a poem. I found a rhythm in everything I wrote. I found my voice.

I love to write now. I love to see my self in my writing and hear my voice. Even though I’m going into business the soul crushing major, it won’t stop my voice. If anything my voice will propel me through business and make me stand out.

Ultimately I want my words to make a difference. To truly be heard, for them to change you. I want to be the reason you believe in your self again. I want to pick you up when you fall through with words not action. I want my words to be a lighthouse unto others. But most of all I just want to write for my self and to love it as much now as I did then.

moving on but never forgetting

roses are red, violets are blue.
But god forbid I forget about you.

forget about the innocent dreams,
the wake up calls and the ding ding dings of the lunch bell.

the way you wander aimlessly without a purpose,
carrying your self with masked confidence hoping no one will notice,

forget about the sleepless nights  studying the civil rights
the greats  the flakes
and the dates dates dates
1492, 1776, 1812, 1944

forget about the firsts,
the first day, our first kiss, that one risk,
the first time you let someone in, the first time you stuck it to the man

forget about your standings
fitting in yet standing out
being seen while staying hidden

forget about friday night lights and post game fights
sneaking out only to be caught
tuning out while being "taught"... a lesson on how nothing good ever happens after midnight.

pffft

Forget about the good things that happened after midnight
that party, that fire, those friends, that drive
that boy and that boy.... and the other boys

Forget about post poning the future to relive the past.
not knowing what we wanted but not caring cuz "We're still young"
or so we were told

Forget about the all nighters planning our futures
wanting to be young and dumb yet old a grey together.

Forget about the crushes that stole hearts by mere brushes....
the jocks, comedians, and poets
who'd glance but not even notice.

Forget about the memories and countless remember whens
about the glory days pacing in a haze.


Please, Please, Please god don't let me forget...

Remember when

I remember being young. I remember feeling old. I remember juice in church and stain glass windows. I remember pig tails and sea shells. I remember when cops were the good guys. I remember kindergarten crushes (dalton Williams). 

I remember when lying became easy. I remember playing hookey. So I could stay home and build forts. I remember swimming pools and shark attacks. I remember pouting until I was given attention. 

I remember driving for the first time with two feet. I remember learning how to drive stick and then forgetting all at once cause your hand brushed my knee.

 I remember trying. I remember being a tom boy. I remember mud fights and Friday night lights. I remember football and basketball rinse and repeat. I remember three point shots and pre school shots. I remember the grade school chants: 

"Totally for sure, I just got a manacure,

The sun, I swear, is bleaching out my gorgeous hair, 66. 44. I don't even know the score, my make up is smearing I just lost an earring.... " (so on so forth)

I remember the seniors. (Sophomore year.... Mmmmm they were fine) I remember moving. I remember play dough. I remember make up and house. I remember reading and re reading Rachel Hawthorne. I remember being shy I remember playing spies. I remember skinny dipping and dumpster diving. I remember the scents. 

I remember justin Bieber.. 

I remember donkey kong and Mario kart. I remember falling off my bike and then for you. I remember chasing butterflies. I remember getting butterflies. I remember facebook. I remember dr Phil and Oprah. I remember thinking my uncle was just best friends with his room mate. I remember brats. I remember feeling pretty. 

I remember Billy Mayes. I remember miss said lyrics. I remember all the singles ladies getting higher. I remember the hits and the misses. I remember the control. I remember our games. 

I remember losing my phone cause I never used it. I remember calling my grandma from the back porch instead of on the phone. I remember the razor,  the chocolate, the sidekick, and the black berry. 

I remember not being tired.

 But I'm starting to forget. 

And I don't want to forget.

Writers block

I sit down to write and I can't. 
I want to write about my mom and how I miss her more than anything. But I can't, cause my mom is only states away and yours is worlds. 
I want to write about you. But I don't know you like I should.
I almost wrote about tinder.... and I still might.... nahhh.
I want to write something that will be read and re read. I want to create an anthem. 
But I can't.
Cause I'm pretty sure I have ADHD and I just found play dough. 
....
....
I'm back and I still can't write.
I would write about dating. but well I've never even had a boy friend... (other than taylor woodman in 7th grade for a day). 
I want to write in a way that pulls you out of your depression and gives you comfort.
But they said I'm not good at comforting and I listened. 
I want to write to my little brother. But he won't read with out me there.
I want to write that the thought of me not being there for him just made me cry,
But I can't cause I am not weak *can't be weak.
....
....
I want to write my testimony. But that won't bring you back. 
I want to write about my best friend cause not enough people know her. I can't though cause my words would never do her justice. 
I could write about my dad, about how he is me and I am him. And how that scares me cause of how my mom talks about him. 
But I can't bring my self to do it.
I could write about the unknown but how am I supposed to do that when I'm already a teenager that knows it all?
....
....
I could write endless remember whens. But that only makes me sad.
I want to write how I feel. But honestly I feel too many things at once. 
I want to write about regrets and mistakes...
But I also want to write something you'll want to read.
I honestly just want to write about my mom. 
But its too late now my lap tops about to die and the chargers on the other side of the room.

Instructions

Hi I'm MaKayla Waters. since apparently thats what we're talking about on these things now, our "real" identities or what not, but I don't want to talk about that. That topic has been exhausted. I want to talk about INSTRUCTIONS and how to blow them off.

1. SCREW INSTRUCTIONS AND "HOW TO's" immediately ignore them. You don't need them.
Don't let any one tell you how to do something. (except the occasional teacher, because thats what they are paid for)
We have been drilled over and over this semester to be different and unique. You can't do that when you are following the same steps everyone else is.

2. come up with your own instructions.

the end

I can't wait

I can't wait to meet you. I can't wait for our skin to brush, for that moment we'll know. I can't wait to be "your girl." I can't wait for your look, the look that strikes straight through me, the one that alters my breathing. I can't wait to hate to fall asleep cause that'll be 7 hours I won't be with you. I can't wait to find my self with you. I can't wait for your voice, the only one that will matter, the one that can send my body into overdrive. I can't wait for our "firsts." The first time we see each other looking back, our first over thought perfectly planned and ruined words, our first kiss that excites and envelopes me, my first love, and last.

I can't wait. I can't wait. I can't wait.

 I can't wait to be the reason behind your smile. I can't wait to know what makes you tick and know how to change your mood. I can't wait to fight with you and makeup after realizing we can't stay mad at each other. I can't wait to let you win, even though heaven knows how hard that is for me. I can't wait to call you after a bad dream to hear your voice slurred with the dreams you had been pulled so abruptly from, to know its all ok by just one word out of your beautifully flawed mouth.

I can't wait. I can't wait. I can't wait.

I can't wait to fall in love with the freckles and scars that cover your body. I can't wait for you to love me back, to feel that over whelming life consuming love we read about in the books.  I can't wait to bring you home, for my family to pull me aside after dinner and comment on the way you look at me when I'm not looking, for them to say "don't let this one go, he's different." I can't wait to have sleepless nights mapping out our future, to spend all night talking about the stars and how they make us wonder. I can't wait to fall asleep in your arms, to wake up to your lulled breathing.

I can't wait.  I can't wait. I can't wait.

I can't wait for our love to transcend through time. For people to aim for our love. I can't wait for our life. I can't wait to age with you, to re fall in love with you every day. I can't wait to never tire of the way you say goodnight. I can't wait to know everything there is to know about you, but to still be surprised by your unconditional love you show me. I can't wait to grow old with you. To be that old couple that never loses that "sparkle." I can't wait to forever be affected by you.

 I can't wait. I can't wait. I can't wait.

But for now I just can't wait to meet you.