not in some cheesy "i miss holding your hand" kinda way
but in the "i miss being part of your life" kinda way
i miss being the one who gets the "i'm coming over" text
i miss hearing you tell me "it's okay i'm here" when i'm scared
i miss being around your family and lying, "yeah I like watching soccer!" when i never have
i miss laughing at your horrible jokes and telling you "you're an idiot" though you never were
i miss singing "always alright" everywhere we went
i miss visiting you at work to "get food" when really i just loved being near you
i miss being the one who made you laugh and say "you're funny i like you"
i miss hearing about your latest adventures with "don't worry we didn't die" starting it off
i miss seeing your blue eyes and seeing "i know how you feel" written all over them
i miss seeing how much you love your little sister "katie baby" and how she adores you
i miss getting schooled at every sport by you even after you say, "i'll let you win i swear"
i miss hiking next to you and your long legs hearing "c'mon shortie" every other step
i miss the countless snow cone runs because "we have to try every flavor"
i miss watching the stars with you where "nothing else in the world mattered"
i miss being able to call you at any moment "no questions asked"
& i'm a horrible hypocrite because i miss holding your hand
Saturday, July 9, 2016
Saturday, March 19, 2016
1st relationship
(girls point of view: top to bottom)
My first relationship didn't last long enough
And you'll never hear me say that
It was a waste of time
I loved you
And I don't think that
I'll get over it soon
Everyday was perfect but
You thought
We needed space
I don't know how many times I said
"We were meant for each other"
I never believed that
It would end this way
I planned the future, knew that
I wanted to be with you, but
I guess it just didn't work out
(Boys point of view: bottom to top)
Sunday, January 10, 2016
time to talk
Let's get this straight. It's been 4 and 1/2 months and you barely know me and I barely know you. We've been in the same classroom every other day for 4 and 1/2 months and I probably don't know your name or your favorite color or what you prefer to do on Saturday nights.
sorry.
But in 4 and 1/2 months we'll walk at graduation and we'll probably never see each other again, so it might be a good thing I never asked you if you prefer rain over sunshine or if you still have your elementary school journal because I would've gotten attached and then 4 and 1/2 months from now would be harder then I want it to be.
sorry.
But some scars take too long to fade and some tornadoes rip up everything you've ever known and sometimes it's better to spend a Saturday night alone.
So good luck to all of you whether you want to become an astronaut or the president or even an English teacher. I'll be sitting by my fire in Washington, seeing your face on the news after you cure cancer.
congrats.
Maybe I'll say "hey. I knew them when we were 17 and still trying to figure out how to survive high school. Well... kinda knew them..."
But for now, I'll see you all when our names are called and we get our ticket out of here, all too excited to leave forgetting all the stress that's been building up for 4 and 1/2 months.
nice to (barely) get to know you.
nicole.
sorry.
But in 4 and 1/2 months we'll walk at graduation and we'll probably never see each other again, so it might be a good thing I never asked you if you prefer rain over sunshine or if you still have your elementary school journal because I would've gotten attached and then 4 and 1/2 months from now would be harder then I want it to be.
sorry.
But some scars take too long to fade and some tornadoes rip up everything you've ever known and sometimes it's better to spend a Saturday night alone.
So good luck to all of you whether you want to become an astronaut or the president or even an English teacher. I'll be sitting by my fire in Washington, seeing your face on the news after you cure cancer.
congrats.
Maybe I'll say "hey. I knew them when we were 17 and still trying to figure out how to survive high school. Well... kinda knew them..."
But for now, I'll see you all when our names are called and we get our ticket out of here, all too excited to leave forgetting all the stress that's been building up for 4 and 1/2 months.
nice to (barely) get to know you.
nicole.
Monday, January 4, 2016
4x1,789
I don't remember the first time I went to Washington or what happened on my 7th birthday.
I don't remember how many times I begged him to cu his hair or when I first fell in love with flannel.
I don't remember people's names from elementary or my favorite Hannah Montana song.
I don't remember my 4 times tables and I sure as hell don't remember anything from 11th grade math.
I don't remember why I was afraid of my dog or why I liked that kid in 8th grade.
I don't remember my Dad's birthday or a deadline until it's the day of.
I don't remember the 206 bones in my body
but I do remember the day I thought they all broke.
I remember wearing the same outfit for a week and falling in love with watery blue eyes I hadn't seen since 6th grade.
I remember my last sunset with my brother and all the 517 days in-between.
I don't remember a lot but there's somethings you just can't forget like how seeing your best friend cry is the equivalent of feeling a hurricane in your heart.
and how 4x8 or 4x9 or 4x1,789 will never matter.
I don't remember how many times I begged him to cu his hair or when I first fell in love with flannel.
I don't remember people's names from elementary or my favorite Hannah Montana song.
I don't remember my 4 times tables and I sure as hell don't remember anything from 11th grade math.
I don't remember why I was afraid of my dog or why I liked that kid in 8th grade.
I don't remember my Dad's birthday or a deadline until it's the day of.
I don't remember the 206 bones in my body
but I do remember the day I thought they all broke.
I remember wearing the same outfit for a week and falling in love with watery blue eyes I hadn't seen since 6th grade.
I remember my last sunset with my brother and all the 517 days in-between.
I don't remember a lot but there's somethings you just can't forget like how seeing your best friend cry is the equivalent of feeling a hurricane in your heart.
and how 4x8 or 4x9 or 4x1,789 will never matter.
Sunday, December 13, 2015
Sir Edmund Hillary
Zac has some dope words so I picked out some of my favorites and I'm gonna read this in class 'cause I think everyone should hear his words. yeah.
Sorry if you can't read it. Just go read his blog. K cool.
Sunday, December 6, 2015
Thursday, November 26, 2015
To my good friend Carolina
Dear Carolina Liar,
I just wanna say thanks.
Thanks for letting me hide behind your name for a couple months while I tried to navigate the maze connecting my heart and my brain.
When we made it on the top 5 I'm sorry that I told my class it was me I just wanted to scream and shout THAT WAS ME NOT CAROLINA. THOSE ARE MY WORDS.
THAT WAS ME,
When we posted something we were proud of and got 1 comment I wanted to blame you.
Come on Carolina, 1 comment?
I'm sorry.
I wrote the words on this blog trying to make you proud of me...
what am I talking about... You are me.
Sorry you weren't a popular blog and this post will probably get 2 comments but you knowme us.
We've never been popular.
So thanks for letting me post things I never would have had the courage to do under my name.
Thank you for gathering the praise on our good days and hiding my shame on the bad ones.
For letting people feel comfortable telling me they liked my words when they probably wouldn't have otherwise.
Thank you.
It's been a good run and I think we make a good team Carolina.
But there's only so many days until there's nothing in the world for me to hide behind. So I'm starting with you.
Sincerely,
Nicole Rae Anderson
I just wanna say thanks.
Thanks for letting me hide behind your name for a couple months while I tried to navigate the maze connecting my heart and my brain.
When we made it on the top 5 I'm sorry that I told my class it was me I just wanted to scream and shout THAT WAS ME NOT CAROLINA. THOSE ARE MY WORDS.
THAT WAS ME,
When we posted something we were proud of and got 1 comment I wanted to blame you.
Come on Carolina, 1 comment?
I'm sorry.
I wrote the words on this blog trying to make you proud of me...
what am I talking about... You are me.
Sorry you weren't a popular blog and this post will probably get 2 comments but you know
We've never been popular.
So thanks for letting me post things I never would have had the courage to do under my name.
Thank you for gathering the praise on our good days and hiding my shame on the bad ones.
For letting people feel comfortable telling me they liked my words when they probably wouldn't have otherwise.
Thank you.
It's been a good run and I think we make a good team Carolina.
But there's only so many days until there's nothing in the world for me to hide behind. So I'm starting with you.
Sincerely,
Nicole Rae Anderson
Sunday, November 22, 2015
E A D G B E
We skipped out on calculus and you played our favorite song on my guitar instead.
The music filled the room, our blue eyes, and the cracks in our hearts.
We skipped out on a movie and listened to our favorite 80's rock station in your car instead.
The music filled your car, the space in between our hands, and the blank holes in our skulls.
We skipped out on being cool and sang primary songs on the way home.
The music filled the road, the creases in your smile, and our forever cold hands.
But in the middle of our song the smallest guitar string broke and so did something inside of me. The words got stuck in my throat and our blue eyes haven't connected the way melodies should. Our hands have gotten too cold to reach out and our sentences fade off with "okay" when both of us know it isn't.
It's been 7 months and I never thought I would need to learn how to restring my guitar.
But I did.
I fixed the string he broke the day we were supposed to be nowhere near music, and I fill my heart with my own songs now.
The music filled the room, our blue eyes, and the cracks in our hearts.
We skipped out on a movie and listened to our favorite 80's rock station in your car instead.
The music filled your car, the space in between our hands, and the blank holes in our skulls.
We skipped out on being cool and sang primary songs on the way home.
The music filled the road, the creases in your smile, and our forever cold hands.
But in the middle of our song the smallest guitar string broke and so did something inside of me. The words got stuck in my throat and our blue eyes haven't connected the way melodies should. Our hands have gotten too cold to reach out and our sentences fade off with "okay" when both of us know it isn't.
It's been 7 months and I never thought I would need to learn how to restring my guitar.
But I did.
I fixed the string he broke the day we were supposed to be nowhere near music, and I fill my heart with my own songs now.
Sunday, November 15, 2015
My Heart Broke
My heart broke and it felt like my eyes turned into Niagara Falls.
My heart broke and it felt like no amount of super glue could ever combine the pieces again.
My heart broke and it felt like hands were only made for hitting never holding.
My heart broke and if our pillows caught our tears mine could fill a reservoir.
My heart broke and calculus homework somehow didn't seem to matter anymore.
My heart broke but after my reservoir dried up and all my super glue was gone, I finally looked at my heart through the cracks.
My heart was broken but the inside wasn't a hurricane,
there were no blood stained memories crowding the space,
no. All I could see was cobwebs filling the corners,
filling the corners.
My heart broke and it felt like no amount of super glue could ever combine the pieces again.
My heart broke and it felt like hands were only made for hitting never holding.
My heart broke and if our pillows caught our tears mine could fill a reservoir.
My heart broke and calculus homework somehow didn't seem to matter anymore.
My heart broke but after my reservoir dried up and all my super glue was gone, I finally looked at my heart through the cracks.
My heart was broken but the inside wasn't a hurricane,
there were no blood stained memories crowding the space,
no. All I could see was cobwebs filling the corners,
filling the corners.
Sunday, November 8, 2015
red handed
You caught me.
- I hate halloween
- I sit in the parent section at football games
- I don't go disco skating
- I've been to In-n-out twice
- I hate going to parties
- I'm not excited to move out
I'm the opposite of the perfect 17 year old high school senior. You caught me.
Sunday, November 1, 2015
How to make me cry
Every 12 year old in the 6th grade made fun of us. But that's what we got for not believing the other person had cooties. (we probably did have cooties).
I remember sitting in your living room (the one your mom makes me sing in now) while we broke open the new legos you got for your birthday. The other kids were out by your shed (the one I can't look at anymore). We didn't care what anyone said.
You never warned me about the hidden step leading into your kitchen, just so you could laugh when I tripped. I never made an effort to remember, because I'd rather hear you laugh. (I tripped again on it yesterday. Did you laugh in heaven?)
You made me watch Lord of the Rings with your family (I haven't watched it since).
When you walked me home from Timberline one day you taught me that if I'm ever with people who are making out, immediately wrap their faces together with plastic wrap so they can't breath. (I still thought kissing was gross). And then we would joke about all the people you made out with.
I tried forgetting 9th grade yearbook day until I remembered you were the first one there with open arms. (Sorry I got tears on your members only jacket).
I wish I could go back to everyday that I told you to cut your hair and confess that I really loved it. (even when you made me french braid it).
You visited me when I got my wisdom teeth out just so you could laugh at my chipmunk cheeks and bring me ice cream. (It was my favorite kind).
I held everyone's jealousy in Choir, because I got to stand right next to you. (I loved every second).
I can't get myself to clap more than 6 times for anything, because you taught me that that was the limit. (why 6?).
You taught me how to play pool, wear a scarf fashionably while ice skating, and how to eat spaghetti without a fork. (such useful skills, I know).
And I'll never forget that last time we talked. Or the feeling when I heard the news. Or that stormy sunday night when my whole view on the world shifted. Or when the heartbreaking sentence "this means it's real" escaped my lips. (I miss you).
The "you can talk to me" comments pouring in like the ocean, when the only person I wanted to talk to was you. I wanted to know if you're okay, I still do. (Are you okay?) I don't want to cry looking at a selfie of us in my car. But I do.
Because this shouldn't have happened. (but it did).
Sunday, October 25, 2015
A re-introduction
I'm 17 years old and I actually kinda like high school.
I'm 17 years old and I couldn't name more than 5 people "friends".
I'm 17 years old and I have watch more chic flicks than your average cat lady.
I'm 17 years old and I drink skim milk occasionally.
I'm 17 years old and I've barely realized how I need a kitten.
I'm 17 years old and I own 27 pairs of shoes but I rotate through 3.
I'm 17 years old and I lose my chapstick daily.
I'm 17 years old and I'm terrified of grasshoppers.
I'm 17 years old and don't like it when people know my middle name.
I'm 17 years old and I prefer read-a-thons over parties.
I'm 17 years old and I have no idea where I want to go to college.
I'm 17 years old and I have too many fears to count so I'll just avoid them.
I'm 17 years old and none of this matters anyways.
Sunday, October 18, 2015
Blue skies Blue eyes
Today I felt like blue.
Not blue, like sad blue, just the color blue.
Maybe it was the rain. Maybe it was my unbrushable hair. Maybe it was my eyes.
Today I felt like blue.
Not a bright blue, not a navy blue, just the color blue.
Blue always makes me think. Blue convinced me to go to the library. Blue pulled out my favorite boots.
Today I felt like blue.
Not like blue is a good thing, or a bad thing, its just the color blue.
Maybe he felt like green today. Maybe she felt like pink. I felt like blue.
Today I felt like blue.
Not sad, happy, good, or bad, just the color blue.
Maybe they don't remember. Maybe I need to move on. Maybe I don't
On November 2nd my world was washed in blue.
and today I felt like blue.
Not blue, like sad blue, just the color blue.
Maybe it was the rain. Maybe it was my unbrushable hair. Maybe it was my eyes.
Today I felt like blue.
Not a bright blue, not a navy blue, just the color blue.
Blue always makes me think. Blue convinced me to go to the library. Blue pulled out my favorite boots.
Today I felt like blue.
Not like blue is a good thing, or a bad thing, its just the color blue.
Maybe he felt like green today. Maybe she felt like pink. I felt like blue.
Today I felt like blue.
Not sad, happy, good, or bad, just the color blue.
Maybe they don't remember. Maybe I need to move on. Maybe I don't
On November 2nd my world was washed in blue.
and today I felt like blue.
The Sky Is The Limit
They told me the sky is the limit, so I've started drawing plans for a rocket.
They told me the sky is the limit, so I've painted stars on my ceiling to remind me.
They told me the sky is the limit, so I've memorized constellations fully planning to touch them someday.
They told me the sky is the limit, so I've drawn the man in the moon more times than my own face.
They told me the sky is the limit, so I've dreamt how the stardust will feel falling through my fingers.
They told me the sky is the limit, but my brain can't comprehend rocket science and all the stars I painted peeled off 3 years ago.
They told me the sky is the limit, but I only remember one constellation and I don't have time to draw.
They told me the sky is the limit, but the only thing falling through my fingers is my patience.
They told me the sky is the limit, but they forgot to tell me how slippery the stars can be, and how the clouds won't catch you.
They told me the sky is the limit, but I am limited.
They told me the sky is the limit, so I've painted stars on my ceiling to remind me.
They told me the sky is the limit, so I've memorized constellations fully planning to touch them someday.
They told me the sky is the limit, so I've drawn the man in the moon more times than my own face.
They told me the sky is the limit, so I've dreamt how the stardust will feel falling through my fingers.
They told me the sky is the limit, but my brain can't comprehend rocket science and all the stars I painted peeled off 3 years ago.
They told me the sky is the limit, but I only remember one constellation and I don't have time to draw.
They told me the sky is the limit, but the only thing falling through my fingers is my patience.
They told me the sky is the limit, but they forgot to tell me how slippery the stars can be, and how the clouds won't catch you.
They told me the sky is the limit, but I am limited.
Sunday, October 11, 2015
Prescription: hugs
I woke up this morning with a serious Homecoming hangover.
Because we got drunk on each others laughter
Last night was perfect.
But I woke up this morning with a serious Homecoming hangover.
And it hit me like a brick that last night was my last Homecoming
last night was my last
last night was my last
And I don't know if the walls of the school are lined with sentimentality or the grass we walked through is watered with memories making my feet cold with the thought that it's.
almost.
over.
I woke up this morning with a serious Homecoming hangover.
And I don't think any amount of medicine can help this pressure in my head.
Because we got drunk on each others laughter
on the musty air of the Commons
on the canyon where we decided to have our own dance
Last night was perfect.
But I woke up this morning with a serious Homecoming hangover.
And it hit me like a brick that last night was my last Homecoming
last night was my last
last night was my last
And I don't know if the walls of the school are lined with sentimentality or the grass we walked through is watered with memories making my feet cold with the thought that it's.
almost.
over.
I woke up this morning with a serious Homecoming hangover.
And I don't think any amount of medicine can help this pressure in my head.
A haiku for every school dance I've been to
6th grade Valentines
I barely knew you
we just learned how to slow dance
I was wearing pink
9th grade Night Dance
you were my last song
we were on top of the world
it ended too soon
Sophomore Prom
you almost asked me
instead you asked my best friend
I stayed home that night
Junior Homecoming
we liked each other
you friend zoned me on Sunday
we haven't talked since
Junior Sadies
we liked each other
I friend zoned you on Sunday
I think we're still friends
Junior Preference
we were kinda friends
you barely talked the whole night
now we never talk
Junior Prom
you had just moved here
I had never had more fun
it rained the whole night
Senior Homecoming
I wore your suit coat
the first dance I've felt pretty
you kissed me Goodnight
I barely knew you
we just learned how to slow dance
I was wearing pink
9th grade Night Dance
you were my last song
we were on top of the world
it ended too soon
Sophomore Prom
you almost asked me
instead you asked my best friend
I stayed home that night
Junior Homecoming
we liked each other
you friend zoned me on Sunday
we haven't talked since
Junior Sadies
we liked each other
I friend zoned you on Sunday
I think we're still friends
Junior Preference
we were kinda friends
you barely talked the whole night
now we never talk
Junior Prom
you had just moved here
I had never had more fun
it rained the whole night
Senior Homecoming
I wore your suit coat
the first dance I've felt pretty
you kissed me Goodnight
Sunday, October 4, 2015
Electric Skies & Lightning Eyes
Your veins are like the branches of my favorite tree.
I've always been too scared to climb it.
Your eyes are like the ocean I loved the first time I stepped on its shore.
I never learned how to swim.
Your smile is like stepping outside on the brightest summer day.
I've always preferred rain.
You're so wrong for me...
But when I'm with you I see lightning behind my eyelids and when I look up all I can feel is electricity.
And the words "You're my world" radiate under your fingertips.
I've had enough careless goodbyes and painful cries to know that
--this might be a hurricane warning--
but I think I'll take my chances with our electric skies and lightning eyes.
Thursday, October 1, 2015
I wrote your name on my arm
I wrote your name on my arm but you didn't stick around
long enough for me to feel comfortable in short sleeves.
I wrote your name on my arm but my pen must have dried out because
I can't seem to finish the last letter. Maybe my pen is following
my mouth and my eyes example.
I wrote your name on my arm but then I remembered your
parents gave you that name along with a list of rules
regarding me.
I wrote your name on my arm but then I sat alone
on a Friday night. I thought about scraping
your name off of my arm.
I wrote your name on my arm but I didn't think twice about
dancing in the rain.
I wrote your name on my arm but tattoos are messy
and my heart has never been fond of needles.
I wrote your name on my arm but then I heard my
anatomy teachers voice saying
"all the layers of skin you can see are dead".
All the layers of skin you can see are dead,
and I wrote your name on my arm.
Sunday, September 27, 2015
Solar System
I looked to the stars
they told me to take it slow
I did not listen
The moon warns me now
"I know you prefer the night
don't forget the stars"
The moon is just rock
and all the stars are dying
I need light to live
This solar eclipse
has burned my eyes white and gold
I cry for the stars
Now the sun is here
and I'm trying to count back
the days I've wasted
The moon looks sadly
at my life laying shambled
it could've done more
13 things my parents forgot to teach me:
- going down slides isn't fun and people will forget my birthday
- high school isn't like high school musical
- my favorite color will change and so will my hair
- soccer isn't for everyone
- people drink beer at BYU games
- it's okay to cry over a broken heart. (even if you're in 7th grade)
- people will think my Pokemon collection is weird
- not everyone will like Phantom of the Opera
- brothers can't always be there for you. neither can dogs
- sunrises happen whether I witness them or not. so do sunsets
- the sun can blind me but so can the moon
- the stars will be there when people aren't
- sometimes being a robot is ok
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)



