I wish I saw stars

spinning and twirling my yellow dress flows,

you called me the sun,

i called you mine.

you're eyes were only meteors when i first met them,

but honey, 

they quickly turned into stars.

remember the time we went to space?

you told me that the sun was the only thing keeping this solar system alive,

i blushed.

you told me that when the other planets lose their way,

they revert back to fire.

we had fire, but it gone blown out in the night.

you had fire and it was in your heart

but it's in your eyes,

and the last time we talked i saw flames. 

i don't know if the milky way looks a little more like tequila now,

or if the moon took over your solar system

 but gosh dammit.

the moon must've taken over your solar system

cause baby,

I only see black in your eyes.

my dress is still yellow and hers is gray

hers is gray 

and your eyes are black.

i've always thought gray and black were too neutral.

my dress doesn't impress you anymore, but you told me i'd always be your favorite color.

maybe it's only because the universe used to spin around yellow.

i'm scared for the solar system,

but I'm tired of competing with the moon.

every 11:11 wish i'm praying for a new star.

remember when you had stars in your eyes?

the sun still shines but the moon has more hours during the day.

the moon took over your universe,

and i knew that as i looked into your eyes,

i must've wished upon too many stars.

REAL TALK

I can't think during school 

but 2 am knows how to get my brain rolling.

i write all my posts late at night and regret it in the morning.

real talk.

yes, i want him to go back out.

no, i actually don't. 

i don't know how many kisses i've had,

i know how many guys i've kissed.

real talk.

no pill can make you "happy"

but you got to remember that sometimes,

happiness isn't a choice.

medications aren't for the insane,

and if we actually knew how common depression was,

maybe we'd find it not so different.

real talk.

i'm more than tired every single day because i stay up too late,

but i feel bad falling asleep in class.

does seminary count as a class?

maybe i got mono from boy #7.

real talk.

most of the time i don't give a shit what people think about me,

a lot of the time i do.

i cried the first time i swore

so yeah, i hate swearing (but i still do it)

real talk. 

i'm so freaking sick of getting glares in the hall from my boyfriend's ex,

i want to leave those crowded halls more than anything.

wait, did i say leave?

i meant stay.

i want to stay in those halls forever so i don't have to grow up.

but on second thought,

i want some people to grow up.

i guess i'll see you in one and a half, maybe two?

real talk.

i kind of really hate byu now

but the institute dance at uvu sucked

so i think i'll root for utah (sorry dad).

nobody will judge me there either.

real talk.

i waited two years to get my drivers license because i was too scared to take my road test.

worst decision of my life because i passed the first time i took it.

im a perfectionist and i hate that about myself,

but my crayons taught me that it's okay to color outside the lines here and there.

real talk.

i hate when people call each other babe or bae because i think they're calling me by nickname.

the pda at lone peak is a problem.

and my logic is that if you honestly can't save it for later, 

might as well skip class.

my eyes are half way shut already and i won't be able to open them again if i close them

to save myself from your nasty affection.

real talk.

i hate when people call mr. smith "smith"

and you'd only know why i hate that if you took his class.

jimmie smith is probably the only teacher who doesn't hate me for my tardy problem 

and last week, i got my english class out of writing a paper.

i'm almost positive mrs. gardner hates me now.

real talk.

i feel bad pulling a senior prank because rhonda bromley is such a genuine lady.

but in all honesty,

sometimes i want to vandalize lone peak for a slam poetry video.

if you asked me what my favorite class was, i'd say nelson's

and it's not just because we watch videos about "selectively dancing frogs" (...yeah i'll leave that one there) 

and still get english credit.

real talk.

nelson's class is my favorite because it showed me how to express myself;

how to create, how to think, but most importantly,

how to feel and keep feeling.

nelson's class is in my 2 am thoughts and 

real talk,

i don't even mind.

thanks for everything.

xoxo,

Lola J.

i think i hit snooze once or twice

the capitol building must be made of brick full of sentimentality or something must be in the water provided. 

Maybe flashbacks hit me like a line drive to the face, or maybe i hate how i refused to kiss anybody at a high school dance. 

its 2:00 in the morning and i can’t sleep because prom hangover had me sleeping in till 3pm.

now i’m awake wondering if i slept for 3 years. 

because yesterday night i went home at 1, and high school had just went to bed.

sophomore year i blinked and woke up in 11th grade chemistry.

 junior year i blinked and woke up at senior prom. 

senior prom i blinked and woke up in black.

its 2:10 and i’m debating if the beds at UVU are going to be more comfortable than the one at my house. 

am i really going to move in 2 months? am i really going to leave for 18 months?

27 months almost complete, and the only thing holding me down is attendance.

can we talk about attendance?

its 2:15 and i thought i was so happy to get out of this place,

until the music stopped at 11 last night.

my memory is up and running and i can’t help but reminisce. i don’t know if i went to enough lone peak basketball games.

why didn’t i ever support the lacrosse team? did i tell enough people i was grateful for them? what about the janitors? my teachers..? did i wake up too late?

i have a bad habit of hitting snooze when i’m half asleep. and now i’m worried i must’ve been half asleep this whole time. My alarm clock finally went off last night, and i realized i was late.

reality hit me like 5-o-clock rush hour. and i’m stuck between wanting to leave and wanting to stay.it’s too late to enjoy the ride because everybody around me is preparing to leave as soon as they can.

is anyone else scared to leave high school behind?

maybe i’m the only one who notices the bricks made of sentimentality. maybe i’m just over thinking things.

its 2:27 and i don’t want to go to bed because i’m worried. 

if i hit snooze one more time,

i might fall back asleep.

stubborn

if the heart knew that the brain wanted

it probably wouldn't  have listened.

like the wind talking through the trees,

the soft whispers in the breeze

and the thump, thump, thump

that pulsates through rundown walls

and leaves arteries to paint 11:11 wishes in blood

the heart won't listen

the silence

that fills 11:12

the moment you wish your heart wouldn't have spoken through closed doors

because you know you can't change what you feel

and the heart can't listen

like the dreams yet to be reality

and reality so real it hurts

deeper than chest pain

nothing like an attack

everything like sweaty hands

the heart doesn't listen

like the pumping that won't cease

thats there when you dream

like the pumping that won't cease

when you fall in love

and we all know that nothing's like falling in love.

bruising becomes too easy

the record you used to play every saturday night

stops spinning

music loses its sound

to the music shaking your bones

the heart didn't listen

and now your head is spinning

muscle tissue is beating

and no matter what anyone says

1000 times a minute can't tell you how you feel.

impulse can't tell you what you think,

so you accept your heart's follow request

and you're lost now

because logic is so much better than

chasing your thoughts.

but if the brain knew what the heart wanted,

it probably wouldn't have listened either

because 11:11 might mean shooting for the star

and the brain missed the moon

by 1/4th a heart beat

rewind

i remember the day my little brother was born. I was 8.
i remember lemon lime gatorade.
i remember playing sonic on the xbox.
i remember the first A1 of sophomore year.
i remember thinking the seniors were huge.
i remember coldstone on family night.
i remember orange.
i remember stake youth conference 2013. i remember how i met tyler ashworth racing tricycles.
i remember the "end of the world" map test.
i remember 9th grade lunch. how mrs. ashton would get mad at us for not sitting in the cafeteria.
i remember how everyone used their lockers in 7th grade.
i remember the day i lost my two front teeth.
i remember little ceaser's picnics on my trampoline.
i remember the monkey bars and tire swing.
i remember how much i hated peanut butter.
i remember the cheesecake factory.
i remember how nervous i was at my first dance recital.
i remember not practicing for piano lessons.
i remember hours spent on personal progress.
i remember never wanting to disappoint.
i remember catching rollie pollies at grandmas.
i remember lemonade stands.
i remember tamagotchis.
i remember lexi sheffield as tennis team captain. i remember thinking i had never met a more
genuine person.
i remember the commons last may.
i remember mrs. owens.
i remember the junction as "the hangout".
i remember that text.
i remember hands up stands up.
i remember shrinky dinks.
i remember being the tallest out of my cousins.
i remember thinking lone peak looked like a mall.
i remember thinking i could bring my dried up starfish back to life by sticking it in a plastic pool full of water and salt. (it didn't work)
i remember when my dad switched jobs.
i remember the oreo ice cream cake my mom made for me on my 13th birthday.
i remember thinking 18 was so old.
i remember feeling young.

you're like

the last day of school and the first day of summer

a drive up the canyon with no destination

a combination of fire and ice

cream cheese frosting

senior prom

girl scout cookie tag-a-longs

a day at the beach

cherry chapstick and spearmint gum

a math test gone easy

the color yellow

my favorite song

gold at the end of a rainbow

hot cocoa on a snow day

fireworks on the fourth of july

a sunday session of general conference

lemonade at the state fair

my lucky penny

winning a national championship

100% battery life

monday evening and friday afternoon

no homework on the weekend

a full tank of gas

no more braces

a free gift with my purchase

a utah sunset

the first snocone of the season

your dad

a good dream

never wanting to let go

shoes & views

we’re all walking the same path,

different shoes

or maybe the same shoes,

just at different times.

tennis shoes 

for running

high heels 

for church

rain boots

and

snow boots

for cold days

flipflops and 

sandals 

for warm ones

because life is full of opposites

big shoes

small ones

but we’re all walking the same path,

at different times

and though some shoes might be dirtier

a little more worn

lighter 

or even heavier,

we’re all traveling the same path

one that has no distinct direction,

a trail of tears

a road of bumps 

ups and downs, twists and turns,

dead ends and reverses

lefts that you thought would be right,

rights that turned out left

and even though sometimes

 we have no idea where our shoes will take us next,

we’ve heard the view from the top of the trail

is beautiful,

so we keep walking,

we keep going

we push on in our shoes that we chose for ourselves

all reaching different destinations

but seeing the same view

in the end

tsunami: i've been meaning to write this

let me start off by saying 

i'm sorry for the "missionary card".

i'm sorry for words you fully meant 

through gritted teeth

and the broken heart hiding inside the mouth already opened

i'm sorry i was a coward

who didn't ask you for permission face to face,

eye to eye,

heart to heart

your best friend told me it was okay,

but i knew okay wasn't the yes it needed to be

still, i looked past logic

which later buried me in an engulfing quicksand of guilt

so i'm sorry for unrequited decisions

absentminded thinking

and quick impulse

 but mostly i'm sorry our friendship that was building 

got torn down by water and wind

after the sun went down

10 months ago.

waves i no longer see in the school halls

but wish i could replicate

the friendship torn down by water, wind, and fell into utter confusion 

hurt, doubt, and something i couldn't understand

i watched it hit the ground

hit the ground and crack its skull right open

hit the ground and bleed right through wavy brown hair and fragile skin

you were never anything but nice to me

and i looked up to you

more than you know

if only i would've asked you heart to heart

because even though i thought you didn't care,

i should've known better

my bad for only seeing the ocean

and not looking for the tsunami

i should've known better

than to think you were over him

because i know i wouldn't of been

i knew better

but i only looked at the ocean

the inviting waves that soaked up the rocky shore.

so i'm sorry

the tsunami came

and washed up all the feelings 

hidden beneath the surface

i'm sorry for starting a storm,

and not telling you the forecast

Everything

Came so quick,

i just want you to know that i apologize

sincerely.

i know that things will never be the same,

and that you hate the storm.

i can't change what already took place,

and nothing makes me feel worse.

so here i am writing another apology letter,

but it needed to be said.

I'm sorry for the tsunami.

the 

                            tsunami

that

                         

             was

me

if you really knew Lola J,

i know that this post is due at 12:00 tonight but i've never liked sundays.

or attention

and i think that's the real reason i'm grateful i could sleep in paris for so long.

because every morning when i wake up for school,

i feel like a face without a name.

i get marked absent by teachers who don't see me,

teachers who couldn't tell you my name to save their life,

but maybe its my fault.

maybe it's because those teachers know I'm only taking their class for the credit,

maybe they know that the only reason i actually try is for the regent's scholarship,

maybe they know i couldn't care less.

but i could tell you their name.

and i'll tell you right now,

mr. nelson is 1/8th of the 1/4th that actually care.

when i stepped into his classroom,

he saw me.

i might've started out as a face without a name,

but i quickly turned into a name without a face

to my classmates.

he gave me my crayons back,

so i decided to take them to paris.

first day in paris

i walked those stoney streets

and it felt so good not to be alone.

when i saw the eiffel tower overlooking the darkly tinted city of love,

i finally felt a sense of unity 

a sense of belonging

a sense of "what-ifs?" and a conclusion of "who cares?"

because Lola J. wasn't the only one without a face to the name

and she felt like she could finally be herself 

in a class full of diversity.

everyone was writing with their crayons that wouldn't erase

no one was ashamed

and no one should be

 because really,

why be afraid of paris?

so here it is,

crayons that will never erase:

if you really knew Lola J,

you'd know that she stays up too late and wakes up too early. 

you'd know that she prefers her cereal with bananas,

you'd know that she visits her grandparents every sunday.

you might know her as the girl who chews cinnamon gum,

or the one who never has a pencil.

the one who was too shy to talk to anyone in the 9th grade,

and still gets scared to say hi to people in the hall. 

if you really knew her,

you'd know that she likes a good comedy,

and enjoys a good dance party.

you'd know that her favorite color is pink

you'd know that she loves calling people by their nicknames.

you might know her as the tennis player,

or the girl who lives on the corner.

the one who really hates school,

and usually just shows up for creative writing and ap calculus.

if you really knew her,

you'd know that her grandma's cousin was named Lola Jeppson,

you'd know that Lola was her sunday school teacher,

you'd know that she misses everything about her.

if you took the chance of really getting to know Lola J,

you'd know that she was

Bailey Andrus

let me shed some light (on this blog)

A list of things that I think are just utterly aggressive:

most junior boys
the sophmore parking lot
the movie twilight
the sequel to that movie
doorstep tap
tap
tap dancing
hammocking (but hey)
1 am
my grandpa's driving (or should i say road rage)
trek
my alarm clock
gary dunn when he's talking about the librarian (love the guy)
pitbull's music
lp cops
lp knightings
middle school relationships
high school relationships
relationships
3rd term
school
wooden pencils
simon cowell
expensive music (it's a no from me)
this blog post

tomorrow's yesterday

you smelled like the musk of midnight and held my hand like tomorrow's yesterday wouldn't happen.

i think its because you knew from the start that my heart wasn't made for 2 and another tomorrow might be too much to ask.

but you were wrong

because another tomorrow meant another day of us,

and i loved everything about that.

tomorrow's yesterday means today,

and you were so caught up living in the moment,

you didn't think about the next week

or the ten before. (that i'm stuck thinking about)

i regret that i built you up so high

only to have you tear me down one brick at a time.

 so now I'm sitting here with my hands open, wishing i knew why you let it go

because you held it like tomorrow's yesterday wouldn't happen

but it did

you promised me you'd never break my heart, 

and then threw it off the balcony of the hotel i cried in new years eve.

because while you were out hanging with other girls, 

doing other things,

i was only thinking of you.

you promised me that tomorrow's yesterday wouldn't happen

and after everything, i still can't get you off of my mind, no matter how hard i try.

no matter how many new songs i download,

no matter how many pictures i delete,

no matter how many times we ignore each other in the halls,

i can't forget you,

or october 27th 

or december 24th,

or february 1st.

you still wear that shirt i gave you for christmas, every damn A day

the only day we have a class together

and i can't help but think its because you miss me

like i miss you

but maybe i only miss the memories

because tomorrow's yesterday happened just like the psychic said

and as much as i don't want to ever see you again, i do 

i do

i do

i don't want to ever go back to how things used to be

i don't want the late night texts, the long drives, or the sushi dates

i don't want any more worry, i don't want any more late night thoughts

because it's sunday and i know there's gonna be another sunday

and i'm so sick of saying goodbye.

deep down in my naive heart,

i knew that "a break" meant i'd be broken, and now i'm trying to find my glue 

because everything fell apart and i want to mend half of it back together.

i want friendship and your humor

i don't want love, i want closure.

and i'll never find my glue

because sunday just came over 

wearing that shirt i gave him for christmas,

and he left my door wide open,

again.

let's sit in the cellar

rational

irrational

fine lines and faded ones

fears

too many of them

temporary

long lasting

like a wound that just won't seem to heal,

a scar you'll never forget.

fears

if you don't fear

you're not human.

if you've never felt your heart beating too fast, if your palms have never turned into a sweaty alaska 

or your breaths have never filled your lungs with trial,

you're not human

because everyone is here to fear.

everyone.

the storm is swelling and embossed with worry, so why don't we sit in the cellar.  

while the tornado passes overhead,

let's sit in the cellar.

i wanna talk about the unspoken demons

the ones who sit in the bottom of our heart, in our own personal cellar. the ones we have locked away

with a key so small, nobody else could ever find it

except for you

cause you're the guard of your cellar and i'm the guard of mine

we decide for ourselves who we let in

and who we keep out

so come inside. 

unlock your cellar 

i'll unlock mine, 

we can talk about what we're afraid of.

let's let our minds drift away from the fact 

that there is horror spinning out of control,

on the other side of this plastered wall.

let's rest on the fact that the tornado is miles away

from here,

and i'm here

with you

let's sit in my cellar and i'll tell you my fears.

cause just like everybody else,

i'm afraid.

i'm afraid of graduation and not getting a perfect A for every class this last quarter. i'm afraid of the lone peak halls and the class room walls. i'm afraid of using pencil in my creative writing journal because i don't want to look like a coward. i'm afraid of losing my crayons. i'm afraid of being someone i'm not. i'm afraid of turning into [insert name here]. i'm afraid of being in over my head. i'm afraid of ski racks. i'm afraid of bike racks. I'm afraid of skiing. i'm afraid of cold weather. i'm afraid of sharing my favorite chapstick with anyone (but someone). i'm afraid of love, because i think i lost it once. i'm afraid of searching for something that will never be there. i'm afraid of heartbreak. i'm afraid of causing it. i'm afraid of friendship. i'm afraid i'm not a good friend. i'm afraid of losing another friend. i'm afraid of drugs. i'm afraid of alcohol. i'm afraid of prescriptions that don't work and that do. i'm afraid of the light that flickers in the alpine cemetery. i'm afraid i'll rest there someday. i'm afraid of death. i'm afraid of alaska and washington. i'm afraid of the bitter darkness of any month existing between november and january. i'm afraid of how cold-hearted people can be. i'm afraid of guys that have longer hair than me. i'm afraid of young boys who have facial hair. i'm afraid of people who look older than their age. i'm afraid of people older than me. i'm afraid of my waiter getting my order wrong. i'm afraid of not being right. i'm afraid of dipping myself in any expectation i can't reach. i'm afraid i won't end up like my parents. i'm afraid of getting married. i'm afraid of making mistakes.i'm afraid of having my husband cheat on me. i'm afraid for my aunt's kids. i'm afraid for my kids. i'm afraid of not being a kid.i'm afraid of growing up. i'm afraid of the thought of being infinite. 

i'm afraid of never expiring

i don't want to be another unopened wine bottle,

i don't want to be another unopened wine bottle.

i don't want to be another unopened wine bottle, who sits in the cellar forever

infinite means forever,

and forever is a long time to be afraid.

i'm afraid i'm afraid of too many things

and i just want to sit in your cellar,

so i don't feel so alone.

only yesterday did i realize

that the definition of courage is not to have no fear

but to fear everything,

and not be afraid

to not be afraid of fearing.

because forever is a long time.

forever is a long time to be afraid.

back to the start

i never wear my contacts

and i think it's because i've gotten so used to the blur 

i can't see why moving on is so hard, let alone my hands in front of my eyes, because tears drain out my view of what that should look like

what it should be.

A toss up between guilt and sanity lay in the smeared fingertips i have yet to picture, so can you tell me when they've found the right prescription?

for all of us?

i hold in my hands a ticket to the train i stepped on four years back. in loving memory of my naive nature, i keep holding on

but i can feel the train coming to a stop. it scares me

but i keep holding on.

3 months

and it won't have been a waste of time, 

if i can make it to the end 

but right now,

each day is the same. i keep asking the groundhog when he won't see his shadow again and he hasn't responded yet. it's a shadow filled with broken hearts, lonely faces, drastic decisions, and i'm not sure it'll ever go away

cause its a the darkness that won't disappear when the night comes, a darkness that's the most distinct  during noon day, the exact time the kid in the stripes is forced to eat lunch alone in the bathroom stall

again

why did this happen 

again

to be honest i don't think this is ever going to end because nobody seems to be do anything about it

we forget we want to change.

i showed up to school february 26th 

and what i saw in the classroom was a complete contrast of what i saw at lunch

black and white and color and dresses and skirts and blouses and suits all tied together to serve as a reminder of him 

ties and bows and tights and high heels and in the classy nature of it all, you would've thought those kids would remember

but sitting against the wall at lunch, i experienced the commons becoming the commons once again

small circles and old friends, old friends and small circles

the infinity sign is made of two circles

and we're lying to ourselves if we thought "this is going to end today"

i remember my geometry teacher telling me i'd use his class again in my life

he wasn't lying, but i wish he would've been.

when you say you're going to change, i say i'm going to change and when he said he was going to change she said she was going to change, but i've never been to be the change and i think most kids just go for the free chick-fil-a and a one way ticket out of class

cause the trains not stopping and i want to get off.

3 others are waiting by the exit

but the group isn't big enough to make the conductor pull the brake

oh how i wish he would

how i wish we could get him to.

holding my pass in one hand, and a picture of my loved ones in the other, 

i sit there in silence

i'm wondering why big numbers always have a greater impact in every situation

and i'm finally trying to accept the fact i couldn't make him stop

alone

or with one. or two. or five people.

i'm filled with utter regret

because this can't happen again, 

i won't let this happen again,

what can i do to end this cycle?

i want to get off

we need an army and i'm one one soldier

i can't make this route stop

on my own

the thought of helplessness is something that won't dissipate

i hear a kid in the back yell "we're all in this together" ?

but i don't think i believe him

because as i look back,

i realize the train's on a path to nowhere.

we're going in circles

and this wouldn't be the first time