This was harder

then I thought it would be.

But even though

I know that I’m going to die

I dont think

I ever will.

And more importantly

you’re not dead

even after

what happened.

Both of my feet are asleep

but the Messiah won the peace prize

and I found my black pen.

Nostalgia is really important to me

Good memories make me

Sad and

Sad memories I remember

Fondly.

Lara Kleinschmidt (October 2009)

i wonder if the

people that i

notice that i

see alot, notice

that they see me

a lot too. I also

smoke too many

cigarettes.

Lara Kleinschmidt (October 2009)

I tell people

That I have

Green eyes.

I dont

Have green eyes.

I have hazel eyes.

Which is boring

So

I lie

Even though

When I’m telling them

I am looking at them

With my

(Hazel) Eyes

And they can see

For themselves that

They aren’t green.

But

People never check

And so they

Believe me.

People are stupid

And gullible

And at least

My eyes

Aren’t brown.

Lara Kleinschmidt (October 2009)

It occured to me

While sitting here

That you

And I

Are different

That is not

And never was

A bad thing

Its been this way

Forever

And maybe

(Although I don’t know)

But maybe that is why

You love me

Because in the end

I am absolutely nothing

Like you.

But at the same time

Maybe

I’m wrong about that

Because you make me

Laugh

And I make you smile

So perhaps

We aren’t so different

After-all.

Lara Kleinschmidt (October 2009)

It stings
And burns
And yet he cannot stop because
His lungs
And mind
Are filled with thoughts of hurt
And he is there
Alone
With nothing here for him
As he walks back
And forth
He sees his loneliness
Its standing here
Then there
It follows him around
Into his eyes
It creeps
With nothing that can stop
Its painful truth
And light
Thats why is he so scared
He curses this
And that
Yet while he’s doing so
He pulls a drag
And thinks
About the things he knows
Like feeling dead
And gone
Its that which calms him down
To realize grief
And pain
Are things we all endure
But in the end
He sees
That nothings really real
And all we think
We know
Is something that its not
And so he stops.

Lara Kleinschmidt (Written late 2008)

“Are you sure that you’re okay?” She asked him. It was Wednesday October 29, 2008. The sky was blue and the weather was fair. It was a beautiful day, except for his disposition. He had a tendency to be like this over the phone, she thought.
“Yeah, I told you, I’m fine. Stop asking me, please, you’re only making things worse,” He responded.
“Making what worse? You said you were fine, what is there to make worse? Are you sure you’re fine? You really don’t sound fine.” She was persistent, as usual.
He paused for what felt like a minute, the pause ended with a loud exhaling sigh. She could hear that there was something wrong. “Yeah,” he said again, “I’m fine.”
They had arranged that she would pick him up from work that day at around 4. And so she faithfully left her house at 3:45, giving herself the ample amount of time it took to walk the six blocks to the gallery where he worked. Ignorantly she trekked to see him, having little idea of the horrifyingly painful truth which was waiting for her when she arrived.
“Hi” She said, and they kissed. “You look nice today, you know? I wonder what wonderful lady bought you that shirt?”
“Hi, thanks, you bought me this shirt.”
“I know, silly, I’m playing with you. You ready to go?”
He looked at her, and he knew she could tell that he was not the same. His eyes quickly darted to the ground as he muttered,“Yeah…yeah, I’m ready.”    
When they got to his house, they went immediately into his room and sat down on the bed. “Come here handsome.” she said, and she reached her arm out to grab his hand. Interlocking fingers, she pulled him towards her, and as they lay there holding one another she whispered to him, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” He said. Despite his flat affect, he meant it. He really loved her with all of his heart.
Worried about his tone, she persistently asked again, “Why do you sound so upset to me? You have to tell me what’s wrong. If I did something I want to know so that I can apologize and fix things. You know… you do this, and you think I wont be able to tell. I’ve been with you for 2 years handsome, I can tell when you’re unhappy.” She was genuine. Even her slightly patronizing statements were legitimately uttered with care and compassion. She wanted everything to be alright. She really just wanted everything to be alright. 
When the tears began rolling down his face, she knew it was over. Usually in these situations they could persuade each other to change their minds, but not this time. The truth of the matter was that they were in fact very in love, but they were too young.
Barley able to see through his water filled eyes, he turned to her, and holding her close to him reminded her, “I will always love you. This isn’t about that. I will never stop loving you.”
“But then why are you doing this…?” She couldn’t speak louder then a whisper.
“I just feel worn down.” He couldn’t even look at her. He knew that if he did, he would change his mind about what he was doing.
“Look at me. Don’t do this, please, don’t do this.” Her sobs were uncontrollable at this point, “Please just don’t do this. We can fix this, we can…” she trailed off. She looked at him, and knew just then that it was over, and she wasn’t going to change his mind this time. And so she gave up, and as they lay there silently, he kissed her forehead and she tried desperately to commit to memory everything about him, because she was never going to get another chance.
After an hour of silence, she turned to him, “I should go.” He didn’t want her to go. But he knew what he had done was the right decision. And so he stood up and took her hand and walked her outside of his room to the front door.
She lost every ounce of her breathe as the front door came into view. “I can’t do this. Once I walk out of that door its over. I can’t walk out of that door.”
“You have to,” he muttered guiltily.
She said nothing, and continued to stare at his eyes. He was torn up, and she could tell. She realized it was time to leave, and that scared her to death. So she kissed him one more time, “I love you with all my heart. And I always will,” she told him.
“I love you too cutie. Don’t ever forget it. I love you so much.” he replied softly.
And with that she let go of his grip, and walked towards the door. She turned the door knob, opened the door, stepped out, and turned around to look at him one more time.
“I love you” he mouthed, he was crying too hard to speak.
“Bye handsome,” she blew him a kiss, “I love you too.” And with that her heart broke and she closed the door forever.

Lara Kleinschmidt (Written late 2008)

I am suddenly distracted by the reflection of Columbus Avenue in my mirror.
The sun is setting in New York and regardless of how promising the golden sky is
I come to the conclusion that it is going to be a long night.
From experience I know that it will take hours to get a cab (or it will feel like hours, anyway)
And so strategically, I leave my apartment early
And stumbling down 95th street in my sky high heels
That pestering realization continues to be abundantly clear:
It is going to be a long night.
At last I hail a cab, and immediately I roll down the windows.
As we zip through the park, I allow myself to close my eyes and rest my head.
My shot lungs deeply inhale the Manhattan air
And as it fills every crevice of my body
An overwhelming sense that this is home washes over me.
This momentary ecstasy, however, is quickly robbed from me when I remember:
It is going to be a long night.
The girl I am meeting at the end of the cab ride is waiting for me at the corner when we pull up.
She is a very rich, very pretty, very sad girl,
And although we are best friends- I can’t help but to pity her.
Handing the driver some cash, I peer out the window and wave.
With one hand she waves back, and with the other she takes a long hard drag from her cigarette.
A cloud of smoke is blown in my face as I step from the cab
And hugging her I can smell she is already drunk.
Yes, I think to myself, it is going to be a very long night.

Lara Kleinschmidt (Written in 2007)