Cornelia Boom: 2014

xoxo,

5:23 PM

yesterday i told my dad i was scared about the reveal

he said, "well i'll still love you."

he said, "whether you're you, or cornelia, i'll still love you just the same."

and i hope you do too.

it's time we moved back to munich, or london, or dublin,

or wherever it was you came from

it's time we got back to our biology

and to our chemistry

and to sunday nights that involved a lot more reruns than dim computer screens

but paris is only miles away

and just because your skin is a little thinner

a little lighter

doesn't mean you can't be seen

so buy a ticket for the overnight train back where you belong

don't come for the roses,

or for the tower,

or for any kind of heaven sent pastry

because this is so much more than just some beautiful city painted on the back side of any postcard.

this is home.

and if you need me,

this is where i'll stay.

Madeline McEwan

oh how could i, oh how could i forget?

12:24 AM

i remember when the always blue sky was once red

i remember what dress i was wearing
and how it looked just the same

how red always has and always will be my favorite color
and how few people know that

and i remember the fourth of july
i'll always remember the fourth of july

i remember your jacket
and your arms
the same day you bought me lemonade
and told me i looked pretty

i remember the first time my dad cried
and the first time my mom didn't

i remember red cheeks
and bad eye contact
and enough respect to deserve no goodbye

i remember my first love
and the ones that came after
and how i knew they never would

and i remember you

dark eyes
gluten free personality
the drink you always brought to english
and that boy you chased for years

i remember you

big nose
curly blonde hair
another rubik's cube fanatic
whose morning bowl of cereal
was far less important than the one you skated in

and of course,

i remember you

sweet lips
star wars junkie
everything logical heartbreaker
and you were good at it

i remember the restless nights

and the reckless nights

and the nights i could've sworn i was sailing the moon

i remember the friday night rebels

and the saturday night devils

and the sunday morning celestials who never did anything wrong

i remember the ones who made it,

and the ones who didn't,

and the rest of you.

because how could i forget?

her name was adleen

1:09 AM

to you they mean spring but to me they mean winter

they mean pink blankets

and teacups

that hit the ground a little sooner than you hoped

they mean teacups

and white dogs

and every stolen chocolate from grandma's pantry

but they mostly mean birthdays

her name was adleen

and she was 2

and she was almost 3

but she thought she was 8

because she danced like she was 8

because she sang like she was 8

because she spoke about angels like she was 8

and we celebrated her birthday every monday

for 8 mondays

and her favorite insect was a butterfly

because they flew to her

because they always flew to her

she held butterflies in her hands

she

were

flower

and she was

and her name was adleen

and her birthday was every monday

because we knew

they'd stop coming

and they did.

january 16 2006 - december 9 2008

ok

2:32 PM

it's december 5th and everyone has already been asked to preference

the only boy i wanted to take has

but if he hadn't, i don't even think i would've asked him

the last dance i went to was ok. and the one before that was ok. i've never been to a dance where I came back on a cloud higher than I left. maybe there will be one this year.

who knows.

the living room floor is cold. my brother won't stop eating chocolate from the advent calendar. it's 7 pm and i probably should've made dinner, but my eyes are too tired.

that's ok

i've been ok for enough weeks that ok is just a drill

it's a fire drill that has lasted one too many class periods, and one too many attendance schools, and it's getting irritating, and unnecessary, and we do this every year, so can we go back inside now?

can i go inside now?

where it's a little warmer

a little quieter

where hands still hide under blankets

but the air,

it never got in between anything

i went on a drive last night with an old friend who wore a white hat and lies that matched

and honestly,

i just wanted it to be you

i played your second favorite song the whole way home

which was a mistake

i saw street lights just as clear as the last 5 days

which haven't been

so how are you?

how's your sister?

are you still ok?

sorry if im late

because it's half past 11 and half past your bedtime

it's half past whispering under made up constellations and half past constant conversation

it's half past the 6th

and half past dreaming of ever going back.

and i know you're ok

and ill pretend i am too

but im not.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

11:10 PM

im lost for words

but i'll do my best to find a few:

this thanksgiving im mostly thankful for friends and my dog

im thankful for my dog, and hidden keys, and basketball games that make your palms sweat

and i already regret not going to enough basketball games

but "it's just high school"

they say

"so shoot for the stars"

they say

"shoot for the stars if you want the moon."

but please, hunny,

why

would

shoot

for
something

i've

never

even

wanted.

today in english we were asked to write about our "philosophy of life"

mine was to be grateful

im not sure if it really is, but if i tell myself enough times that it is, i think it will be

so here it goes:

to number 1: thanks for taking my phone. a lot. i like it when you say "goodnight kiddo." right now that's about all i can think of, sorry.

to number 2: thanks for never saying happy birthday. sorry i still call you. it doesn't mean anything. your voice is just familiar. and sometimes feels like home.

to number 3: thanks for the 10th grade heartbreak. even though nothing happened. and i don't remember anything about US history. take me back, i could point out exactly where you used to sit

to number 4: thanks for changing how i see things. sorry i'm always tardy. i would tell you i'll work on it, but i probably won't. and i'm pretty sure you get this a lot, but top 3 heroes: my grandma, my mother, and you.

to number 5: thanks for doing my homework. and being my second mom. you're going to be the best mom. i wish i was as smart as you. then we could room together in college or something.

to number 6: thanks for the shoulder. sorry i stained it. hopefully it'll come out in the wash. (not everything does though, i've tried) sorry i was mean to you in elementary school. well, behind your back anyways.

to number 7: thanks for the butterflies, i guess. my favorite night was when you showed me your music and drew on my hand. the night we talked for hours before we even knew we got ditched. just know, that for me, i could think of a million things less painful than silence

to number 8: thanks for the soup. maybe i appreciated it so much because it doesn't come often. i hope you notice i still say i love you every time i leave for school. because i do.

and to number 9: thanks for every blue eye (of course). and sorry for all the times i've let you down. too many to count, i know. but i heard you could "name every grain of sand" so i dunno, maybe you can. sorry i promised you i wouldn't swear. sorry i promised you i wouldn't cry. and sorry i'm mean to my mom. just help me love her.

because number 9,

i promise.

i do.

and i'll keep reminding her in hopes that maybe,

someday,

she'll be strong enough to say it back.

crescendo

10:30 PM

my sister won't stop playing frosty the snowman, and i'm trying not to mind. because when i was 12, and resolute, i did just the same.

i've played the piano for 12 years now and every day the keys sound more and more like home. i have this one song i've loved since third grade. i think we all have that one song.

i've played the piano for 12 years now and i've never learned chopsticks. my teacher wouldn't allow it. but i didn't really care. i trusted her.

she told me i was supposed to dream about performing. she told me if i played fast enough i could forget any kind of scar. i don't know very much about sign language, but i knew my fingers could say anything close to unshakable. she told me i was supposed to play until my fingers bled, and not from pain, but from passion. from edvard grieg's death carols to shubert's unneccesary pedaling. my fingers bled.

they bled

i've been in love for 12 years now. i've been in love with mozart, and dot art, and that chill that runs down your neck when you hear something beautiful. i've been in love with reserved people, and cities, and pretty furniture with prettier stories. the kind you find in salt lake, or maybe just grandma's front porch. I don't know what it is about brick houses with white window panes, but one day, i have to have one.

i quit playing 6 months ago when i needed it most. my dreams were tainted, my scars weren't healing, and my fingers couldn't spell anything but broken. my finger tips bled, and not from passion, but from pain. from the 2 am playlists and the 3 am goodbyes. my fingers bled.

they bled

and i never understood why

so i tried again

so i put everything on the line

the notes,

the sharps,

the flats,

the dotted halves,

the heart.

i played on defeat splattered keys, but that never bothered me.

because i fell in love with every drop, and every finger. i fell in love with every finger that wiped them clean with ghosts, and backseat kisses, and every hymn that resembled some kind of imperfect redemption screaming:

"you're still alive"

and i was.

and i am.

and i always will be.

so until god believes my unshakable anthems should be played for only the angels:

then please,

take me with you.

after the storm - mumford and sons

11:56 PM

hurricanes are most common during the months of september through december.

maybe it's because the weather changes,

maybe it's because even the ocean is worried about christmas shopping,

and that wouldn't surprise me.

hurricanes always seem to hit me in november.

maybe it's because the weather changes,

maybe it's because of the ACT, i don't know,

that wouldn't surprise me either.

but this year, i think it's different

because november came like a downpour

november came like late night swims and cold blankets

and november is the 7th

november has pretty hair, and pretty music, and november doesn't even mind broken movie screens

november is anywhere between stupid parties or just your basement

november is beautiful, and scary, and young, and confused, but that doesn't matter because november is just seeing what happens.

and i like that.

i wish i could freeze time a little faster than our hands. i wish curfew was further north from the last place we drove, and i wish your favorite songs and unimportant letters were somehow forgotten easier than the first person i ever loved.

november was a downpour

november was a 6 foot 2 downpour

and november is just seeing what happens

and maybe,
one day,
maybe november will be december.

but if not, that's ok.

because november taught me to be happy:

even if there was a little rain

clocks

9:23 PM

im nothing except numb and cold and torn and speechless

i've always wished that i could turn back the clock

start over

try again

and today i got to

only an hour, but an hour, an hour is enough

we didn't do anything about it though

we turned our clocks back an hour, and we did absolutely nothing about it.

today was different

maybe it's because it got darker sooner

it got darker sooner and colder sooner

maybe it's because we set our clocks a little bit further away from death.

but if it was,

our clocks,

they failed us didn't they.

hi spring

1:49 AM

you are new

like snow in november
like pink ribbons and light brown hair

but i've only ever loved blue eyes

prove me wrong about the rest of them

atelophobia

9:39 PM

when i was younger my biggest fear was that a shark would eat me while i was in the shower.

(don't ask)

and i learned in elementary that sharks always attack when they smell blood.

whenever i had a bloody nose i would cry.

so i ruled out any kind of medical career years ago.

i don't know if it's because I lose all control of my body at the sight of blood, or because I would never pass any kind of biology class.

and now im just scared of sharks and blood and everything.

but mostly anything that's less than perfect

and to be a perfectionist means to be addicted to never being good enough.

and trust me,

perfection,

he's the scariest thing.

he'll take you away from friday night football and ever wanting to try sushi

he'll take you away from feeling good in purple and he won't let that go

he'll lurk under your bed, and when the timings right, he'll creep into your skull and chip away any part that ever thought you could have been something extraoridnary.

he'll tell you you're ugly,

you're not good enough,

and darling i would floss before people see those teeth.

he'll keep you up till 2, or 3, or 4 cause you've finished all your homework but you could've done so much better.

and all your wounds will be sewn up by friends and good company, but somehow he'll always find ways to get ahold of scissors and rubbing alcohol.

he'll stab you in the back,

but you'll always catch him.

because when have you ever looked in the mirror when he wasn't?

dear toth feiry

11:00 PM

i miss when pony tails never required bobby pins

i hate that i used to complain about 9 am kindergarten,
and that pony tails never required bobby pins

and nowadays i try not to complain about 7 am high school

and at this point I'm holding my whole life together with bobby pins

when we depended on everyone except ourselves, and laces, they tied up more shoes than hearts that were broken

the way our eyes saw beauty
the way our eyes were never dry
but that was fine, because there was always someone to fix that

and nowadays,

there's nobody that will fix that.

but look,

we're all sad, and we're all alone, and we're all scared, and we all cry, and we all go on almost midnight drives up and down nowhere just to play some john mayer / ed sheeran remix leaving every threatening sorrow at red, yellow, green, or whatever lights we decided to stop at.

and it's always midnight

we're too afraid of being seen

or being heard

or being fixed

we haven't grown up

we've grown prideful

we've grown a garden full of blood stained daisies, and we're too stubborn to let someone else over only to say hi.

bring us peanut-butter cookies, or just pet the dog.

if we missed it we'd still be crying over popsicles that hit the same pavement as our knees...

...and sorry

I'm just saying that it's time.

like milk used to stain lips,

but now I'm so glad that it's you

make time, kid

3:40 PM

this is from me to you

from a girl who can't sit longer than 30 minutes
to a boy who couldn't ever spend just an hour in a dream

last wednesday was a breaking point (we all know)
last wednesday
and the wednesday before
and before
and before
and before

and i don't know what it is about wednesdays but maybe it's the way it's spelt
or because it's the middle
and for some reason the middle is always the worst

like the name
and the stomach
and the child

i don't know what it is about wednesdays but maybe it's because of haircuts
or maybe it's because i was born

so now my family calls me "wednesday's child"
an orphan from the newspaper years ago

wednesdays and orphans are fine
wednesdays and orphans are fine

but I'm not gonna make this about wednesdays, or orphans, because this is from me to you

from an introvert
to an extrovert

because she can't sit without screaming
because he's too busy for dreaming

but I'm not gonna make this about screaming or dreaming
because this is from me to you:

this is from me to you:

from young we were taught how to love but not how to stop

and baby i've tried
and i've tried
and i've tried

to

stop

thinking

but

it

just

doesn't

seem

work.

new york, new york

11:57 PM

a second chance

she takes her son to the bus stop

she asks for a hug, and if she's lucky she'll get a kiss.

she picks up her briefcase and starts walking

her car broke down weeks ago

she tried to fix it, but that always seemed to make things worse.

she could never find a man to take care of that,

or the briefcase.

she walked 2 miles to work before realizing she left her sweater at the back door

she's worried about interviews,

and first impressions

she's worried about interviews,

and wether or not they'll have enough for dinner.

she's worried about her house,

and keeping her house

she thinks about how she thinks she forgot to lock her house.

she moved for opportunity

she knew she'd have it "anywhere but here"

so she just left.

she packed her bags and left.

she shook her son good morning and "it's time to go"

it was time to go

but now all she can think about is forgetting to lock the house,

and going back home.

would

too

hard

stay

much

longer

but she has to

because the days get longer,

because the nights get shorter,

and there is no such thing as second second chances.

when push comes to shove

11:08 AM

how to's are for the mommy pinners and the 3rd grade teachers.....but here's to nothing

HOW TO PUSH PEOPLE AWAY AND LEAVE THEM THAT WAY

1. be hurt or scared or anything but
happy
2. figure out who caused it
3. stop talking to him/her (easier said
than done i know...)

4. deleting their number usually works

5. don't add their number again

6. i know you'll add it again, so
delete it again

7. and again

8. and then again

9. and once you forget it is gone,
then i guess they are too

WARNING (no. 1): steps 6 and 7 and 8 may go on for days

or weeks

or months.....

WARNING (no. 2): hearts are fragile: may cause dizziness or lightheadedness

but you'll figure it out.
i know you will.
you're smarter than most people.

and less has always been more-
so the more you repeat,
the more people you push away,

there becomes a guaranteed chance you will never be let down further than the boundary gravity protects you from.

bears and butterflies

6:36 PM

i know i'm human because i get emotional.

but i guess animals do too.

yesterday my dad moved our couch to the other side of the living room, and my dog cried for 20 minutes after realizing he couldn't see out the window.

i know i'm human because without telling i moved it back.

maybe it's because i get so riled up about name calling. if i were a pageant girl "i'd stop bullying" would be my answer to "how would you change the world?"

and that's really the only reason i wanna be a teacher.

or maybe it's because i already have my favorite band's 4th album memorized, and it doesn't even come out till tomorrow.

or because i don't know which ways north, and which ways south, and where the hell is the point of the mountain anyway?

maybe it's because birds and butterflies migrate when it's winter, and because every bear somehow sleeps through it

and let me tell you;

i'd love to sleep through it

but maybe that's what makes me human.

maybe it's because no matter how cold it gets,

or no matter how many times the hot coco machine breaks down during the month of december -

maybe

just maybe........

maybe

it's

because

always

decide

stay.

it's an ugly number anyways

1:01 AM

it's like we're too old to trick or treat, but we're too young to die

and sophomore year i thought it was rad to complain about already having "senioritis" but boy was i wrong.

im so sick i can't even see the piles of applications in front of me

either that, or there are none

I'm too young to be worried about applications

i keep forgetting what i have for homework, and I'm pretty sure I'm too young for memory loss.

i tried writing "don't forget psych paper" on my hand, but i only had a pencil.

i have no idea where this is going, but all i want to say is maybe we should give up for a while

we've got time

one day you'll wake up seventeen and i swear everything thats ever been good-willed and beautiful packed their bags full of sugar and left for the train only 5 minutes before your alarm decided it was finally your turn.

because sixteen has meaning, and eighteen has more, so why would they think to stay.

we are only meant for the R rated movies, and that one overrated magazine

SO WHO CARES

who cares

who even cares about seventeen

please.

please just come back.

come back for tea. maybe leave your things at the door. put your feet up on the counter and just relax on that coward print sofa for while. lets bask in the temperature of who cares, and at least try to enjoy the incandescent sounds of this unwanted rhapsody called now

cause tomorrow you might be eighteen

and eighteen isn't supposed to be relaxing,

and nineteen isn't supposed to be relaxing,

and darling you've got a lot of growing up to do before you turn twenty

so please, inhale what is left

store it in your snuggie, torn blanket, or whatever

because they say we're too young for this,

but maybe they're just too old to remember.

wandering minds: hunny it happens

12:23 AM

not sure what to say other than my psychology book looks heavy, and the view from my kitchen table gets worse every hour after 9 pm.

i sent a risky text and its been 7 minutes without a response so I'm a little nervous.

and I just did (attempted) an entire calculus assignment with a sharpie pen only because it makes my handwriting look better.

it was so worth it - even though it bled right through, and destroyed my kitchen counter.

"nobody tells mom"

- my little brother after he spilled chocolate milk all over his newly steamed church shirt this morning

but onto more important things(i guess):

there were 80% in attendance, but how many of us were actually there

and sorry if peter and molly said that weeks ago,

but i get it.

chasing youthful dreams and disasters is far more beautiful than listening to anything at 9 am. (or 9 pm.)

and that's why i have calc 3rd period.

and why 11:00 is "the best"

and why i don't do a minute of homework until after midnight.

she was drawing.

an unfamiliar voice called her name, and pointed to the cheap projector screen saying:

"you're missing the best part"

she smiled

then whispered:

"oh, but i'd rather be dreaming"

i've never learned how to swim

11:00 AM

you found me in may, and i expired in june.

hurricanes look prettier from above.

and darling,

you looked prettier in may.

but i guess i did too.

"Do not fall in love with people like me.

I will take you to museums, and parks, and monuments, and kiss you in every beautiful place, so that you can never go back to them without tasting me like blood in your mouth.I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand, why storms are named after people"

march 17

10:59 AM

we fought like first graders

i remember that one night we were coloring in the basement and you kept trying to steal that grayish-blue crayon from me. i couldn't tell if you actually needed it, or if you just wanted to hold my hand.

16 never felt so child-like

but i was fine with that

our go-to was bowling. we'd stay up all night sending each other those stupid facebook bunny stickers, and whenever we had somewhere to go we'd make someone else drive just so we could cuddle in the back seat.

you always made fun of me for holding so tight, but here's why:

you drew all over my favorite sweater and we broke up 2 weeks later.

my mom said it would come out in the wash, but it never did

i always knew it wouldn't

and now i'll be forever reminded of the midnight drives we never went on, and those birthday wishes you never wished me; but hunny, broken crayons still color so don't go thinking you fooled me this time.

intro - the xx

11:00 AM

http://youtu.be/_VPKfacgXao

things i thought you should know:

i stole a teddy bear in second grade

i didn't pass drivers ed (twice)

i can't tell the difference between black and navy

im terrified of anyone who can recite the alphabet backwards

my talents include naming playlists, swallowing gum before kissing, and wasting 25 cent wishes on unimportant things

im right handed, and ive never forgiven myself for being so mainstream

Newer
Stories

xoxo,

oh how could i, oh how could i forget?

her name was adleen

ok

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

crescendo

after the storm - mumford and sons

clocks

hi spring

atelophobia

dear toth feiry

like milk used to stain lips,

but now I'm so glad that it's you

make time, kid

new york, new york

when push comes to shove

bears and butterflies

it's an ugly number anyways

wandering minds: hunny it happens

i've never learned how to swim

march 17

intro - the xx

cornelia

lines

archive

like milk used to stain lips, but now I'm so glad that it's you

cornelia

lines

archive

like milk used to stain lips,

but now I'm so glad that it's you