Do You See Me?

Hi, I'm an impracticable artist.

I have dreams as big as New York City and hands that love to paint more than hold.

 my mood changes with the seasons. 

 I romance with night skies and listen to music more than I listen to my parents.

The school hallway scares me and so does the future. 

I fall in love to easily and to often, But I don't mind.

I like clouds, stories, flowers, and of course the Arctic Monkeys.

Hi, my name is Casandra Jade Orgill.

Hi, my name is C.J.

This is me

 and I want you to see me.

I want you to see a girl full of laughter and mystery.

Someone who dreams of England and craves Adventure.

I want you to see me through words and though art

 and see me through everything I have written here.

Because this is who I am.

Thank You for seeing the world through my eyes.

Thank you for the comments.

Thank you for hearing me and listening.

Thank you for the inspiration.

Thank You Nelson.

Thank You Sam

Thank You Cornelia

Thank You Timothy

Thank you Carina

Thank you Jackie

Thank you Everybody for your words.

Thank you for being part of my Paris.

This isn't goodbye. This isn't forgetting.

This is Thank You.

Never Disappear. 

losing my memories (mind)

I remember yesterday.

it was the first time I had picked up my guitar in what feels like years.

It felt like home.

And the memories of home fell back into a slightly curved smile.

I remember when all I would do was listen for a lonely whisper to match my own, 

I remember when  I kept my fingernails long enough for comfort.

I remember the way you called my darling and how Conversations always ended with a heavy heart.

I remember when I saw my dad cry. and cry. and cry.

I remember when all I wanted to do was paint because painting was simple and all I ever craved was simplicity.

I remember when I fell in love with a thunderstorm. 

I remember what you would say to me when I was sad, it was something between beautiful and forgotten.

I remember when an empty ' I love you ' meant a thousand words but one. 

I remember swinging under that big oak tree and dreaming about futures that didn't exist.

I remember the way you smiled.

don't you?

I remember cigarette smoke taking your breath away.

I remember when the world was made of hand guns. Maybe it still is.

I remember the way our parents would talk about high school.

I remember hellos, and I remember goodbyes.

I remember you, and I remember who I used to be.

I remember everyone who left.

I remember the way we laughed.

we always used to laugh.

I miss my memories. I miss our laughter.

I am trying to stand still and hold onto every memory.

but they keep slipping through my fingertips

Because some memories last longer than others.

Care can't cover her pain

Her name was ripped Jeans and anxiety

Hands shaking and heart beating

Her steering wheel knew more tears than finger tips

Lips as pale as the morning.

Untouchable and afraid.

She never knew the size of her heart because her puppet strings were made of fear.

Her name was lonely Fridays and anxiety

hair caught in eyelashes

admiration but never love.

spending midnights with the chimney and moonlights with the trees.

She always wrote the words 'hear me' all over her palms.

hear me.

hear me.

hear me.

But she forgot the way her palms looked a long time ago.

Her name was acoustic guitar strings and anxiety.

she lost her friends to silence.

she was a whisper in a world full of shouting.

Her secrets could cure the world and she believed that anything could happen.

Loved

Broken

Beautiful

Her name was conquering and anxiety

She fell in love with her thoughts

good music and star filled nights

she loves this world

Pine trees and stadium lights

Her name was pain

Her name was hurt

Her name was I care 

painted

I used to spend hours trying to draw the perfect, atomically correct heart.

Measuring every hemisphere with the tips  of my fingers.

But I could never get it right, because every heart is extremely unique. 

Extremely Different.

Your chest is like an empty canvas

And You are painting your heart beat onto an abandoned master piece.

little by little, creating a heart of your own.

Letting others paint some of it for you, because you can't do it on your own.

Some people leave strokes of beauty

others leave streaks of pain.

I'm in my garage drinking a cherry coke with the word REGRET written across my forehead

I sit here hoping you will come back

and finish the painting you started 

and I can finish mine

but I think you found a new artist to paint your heart

someone with a steadier hand.

And I'm sorry for the mess

 my hands have never been able to paint fast enough to keep up with my mind.

It's always been a little disconnected.

Someone once told me my heart was a beautifully painted storm. 

But he was afraid of the thunder. 

Swirls of black and blue turn into something I carry between my rib cage and something that pounds with my lungs. 

Breathing out paint chips with pain and with love. 

You have burns all over your lungs and your heart, you told me it's because you have been to hell, twice.

But I think it's just because you like to play with fire. 

we all just want to paint as many hearts as we can.

And we want someone to fall in love with our masterpiece.

We want our artwork to be admired.

like it should.

Our hearts may be missing some pieces,

but we're still okay. still beating.

Our hearts are like ripped jeans and pocket tees. 

Like cold coffee. 

There is paint stained on all my clothes and my hands

And it probably won't wash off for days 

but I love it because it is my art.

Because It is my heart.

Things Like Nature

This is for the trees.

Giving us hope for something higher.

swaying with the moonlight and our laughter.

something to hang onto.

 

This is for the snow.

The color of her lips and the way you fell in love with her.

I hope you're holding hands by Christmas eve.

So thank you to the snow for giving me something to run from.

 

This is for the clouds.

a small sanctuary for lonely eyes.

a place where daydreams fly like kites.

keeping us young.

 

This is for the rivers.

running deep into my blood and leaving nothing but beauty.

a place to let go and leave things forgotten.

somewhere to kick pebbles and the past.

 

This is for the mountains.

A place to scream.

to fear nothing but adventure.

to crave fresh air.

 

 I have always thought nature was for the lovers.

but, maybe it's for the loveless.

giving us something to hold onto, to run from, to keep us young, to let go of, and to crave.

a place to find our hearts.

 

I'm not good with words, but I think I found  a place where black tongues and white lips can fall in love.

Look around you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Inches

Inches are important.

Like how many inches there are between me and you.

And the inches between my rib cage and my heart.

And we won't ever forget about the inches around our waists

A Simple measurement that determines how far apart lips are and how close you come to crying every night.

 

I still remember the first time I looked down at my hands and saw the distance between the veins and my bones.

The distance from creativity to depression.

It was somewhere between inches and feet, and far from centimeters.

But we still counted in inches.

 

We measured the inches at football games

And the inches we have gained from running for home.

And There is about a thousand more inches for the gap in my head.

explaining all those lost thoughts.

 

I can feel life slipping through my fingertips by the inches.

One inch until graduation

 two more inches until college.

Three more inches until freedom.

And about 100 more inches for the ones who left us before they gained those inches.

 

I don't even want to count the inches between dreams and reality.

but, I want to know how many more inches until I will forget.

 

There are inches between Paris and Utah,

between me and god

and between smoke and beauty

 

but all I really care about is the inches between life and death.

Those are my inches.

 

Feels like Dying

it feels like I'm dying.

The clouds strung across the mountains look a little better

and the rain doesn't feel as cold because the long route home sounds like a good idea.

You would know.
You're dying too.
But to die, is to live.
And to live, is to die.

And I think we all need to learn how to live.
because on Sunday mornings we only care about the ones who are already gone.
We still care, but only when it's too late.

High School has always been a morgue,
it's where we learn to romanticize with death,
Dancing with it's kiss on our lips.
They taught us how to die, but not how to live.
They told us to notice death, not life.

But, we're different.
We use death to live.
Death is used to hold us, but we must learn to let it mold us.
A tool to form our still delicate lives.
Death's name has always burned the inside of our throats,
but not anymore.

If you're afraid to die,
you must be afraid to live.

it feels like I'm dying.
And that feels like living.



I had to say it

I am afraid of you.

Yes, you reading this.

You scare me.

But you didn't come here to read about my fears, did you?

 

The truth is, We all fear the fact that we are the future.

soon enough, the world will be sitting in our hands.

and that scares us all.

But you don't want fear, you want inspiration.

 

I am scared you won't remember me

and I am even more afraid that you will.

But I don't think you really care.

 

I scare myself.

but I am so tired of being scared. so lets dare to let it hurt

Let's try and keep our hands in our pockets a little longer.

But that is far too scary.

 

Fear has always controlled my life.

and yours.

Fear has always had it's hands around my neck.

and yours.

I can't be the only one who looks up into the sky and fears something more, or that I will never see your eyes again, or that I won't fall in love.

But you're just trying to feel something.

 

I am afraid of my heart.

but The blood that runs through it scares us even more.

And I am so scared of being forgotten, of being insignificant, of being oblivious.

but you're just scared of being average.

 

you didn't come to read about fears.

But I had to say it.

 

endings and beginnings, I'm scared.

 

 

 

16. 17. 18

16.

sixteen was like bad Fridays and good Mondays.

Like rooftops and night skies.

Like an upside down spiral stair case.

sixteen was like playing a never ending game of checkers and always

losing.

losing.

losing.

Like first dates and first kisses.

Like fireworks in the middle of July.

Like long drives and short sentences.

sixteen was like trying to paint with a shaking hand.

Like looking for something in the wrong place.

Like hugging darkness.

sixteen was like living in fast forward

sixteen is gone.

 

 



 



 



 

 

 

17.

seventeen is like you, me, and the moon light

Like swimming through an ocean of priorities.

    Like getting no sleep and finding new places.

Like giving up.

again.

and again.

seventeen is like becoming someone other than yourself.

Like being stuck in that annoying state of confusion.

seventeen is like listening to Christmas music in august.

Like feeling free.

Like getting cold feet.

seventeen is like a little more imagination and a little less determination.

Like a scar of reality.

seventeen is like waiting for eighteen.

 

 

 

18.

eighteen will be like making life decisions before you know who you are.

Like a new religion waiting to be heard.

hear me.

eighteen will be like feeling limitless.

Like having nothing holding you back.

Like killing.

eighteen will be like standing with your feet in a river and your head in the clouds.

eighteen will be like forgetting seventeen.

Like trying to find a void to fill your empty heart

Like trying to find coins to fill your empty pockets.

eighteen will be like realizing you aren't that girl anymore.

Like realizing you have to grow up, but refusing.

eighteen will be like holding on.

 

But age is just a number.

 

- 

 



how to run (away)

"Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influence of the earth."

1. Choose a destination. (warmer or colder? further or closer?) or don't.
2. Mentally prepare yourself. (Commit to running away & look up 'adventure' on tumblr. Sleep outside.)
3. Leave a note. (You don't want to people to think you've gone missing.)
4. Pack the essentials. (Headphones and some cash. maybe.)
5. Turn your car into a living space (Pillows and blankets are recommended.)
6. Bring a notebook. (this all must be documented. and Running away is asking for a poem. )
7. Detach. ( You can't have anything holding you back. don't let anything hold you back.)
8. Get lost. ( Sometimes getting lost helps you to find yourself. )
9. Take pictures. ( And lots of them. Memories don't last forever. )
10. be cultured. ( don't be judgmental. it won't work. )
11. Live. ( hike, Scream, Be free, See, Listen, Wander, Kill, Love, Cry, Swim. ) Live.


But, You better do It soon, because running away quickly just becomes a vacation.
And You will have too many things holding you back.
So run.



Our future is in the clouds

Next year we Are all going to leave.
We all know its true.

I hear the words in the halls about applying for this and that college.

You're going to be sterling scholar.
Our high school youth will die with our small hands.

We are all going to leave and the only thing left of us will be whispers.

She has places to go and you have people you want to be.

I am sitting beneath a big tree staring into the sky wondering where I will go when I leave.

I am frightened, even terrified.

but We are all still going to leave.
and I'm going to miss it.
 

 

Decisions have to be made now and applications have to be sent asap.

Paris will only be a memory.

I'm begging it to stay, but the clock keeps ticking.

Time keeps disappearing.

We will soon be gone.

 

 

 

Now, High school Heartbreaks aren't as important as your future.

And if you don't know what you want to be, You're damned.

 

I am standing in the middle of a highway full of decisions.

Headlights blind my mind.

Everyone else knows where they are going, but I am in the middle still not sure which way to turn.

We all pretend the future isn't so close.

But it is right under our noses.

 

Keep your heart close.

 

 It is too late to die young.

 

 

 

 

Complaints

Thunder storms need to be longer.

People need to be nicer.

Old people need to live longer.

Music needs to be louder.

Women need more freedom

I need more friends.

Trees need to be taller.

Summers need to be longer.

School needs to be shorter.

The stars need to be closer. 

Car rides need to be more romantic.

Bikes need to be used more.

Forests need to be bigger.

Roofs need to be shorter.

Albums need more songs.

Life needs more lemons.

New York needs to be closer.

Love needs to be louder.

Homosexuality needs to be accepted.

Clothes don't need to define you.

Phones need to be smaller.

The world needs to get along.

Life needs to be easier.

Anything else?

What's the fun in doing what you're told?

I have always wanted to sneak out my window in the middle of the night, but my window is on the second story and I was told that jumping out the window will get you killed,

but what is the fun in that?

When that girl tells you your shoes are way to main stream, wear them anyways.

Sing in the car because everybody else tells you that you're off tune.

Run away.

Don't ever do what you're told.

Don't study, don't go to the football game, and don't ask that boy you hate to saides because they told you to.

where ever you go today, go there for you. 

Not because you were told to. 

You have to start doing things for yourself. 

When they tell you to go fly a kite, fly to the moon instead.

don't wear vogue, don't take any criticism, and don't go to church because they told you to.

And always play your favourite songs on repeat, even when they tell you that you have the worst taste in music.

Never turn down your music.

when we do what we are told, we become robots and robots never die young.

Next time you hear a set of rules, don't obey them. 

Don't go to bed on time because your parents told you to

Always kiss on the first date because they tell you not to

And never do what you're told to. 

Where I got my bricks (ft. don't be another brick)

Please don't be another brick in my wall.

I got a brick from my dads' hard heart and another from my grandmothers wind chimes.

A brick from my failed calculus test and a brick from the flowers you never brought me.

Please don't be another brick in my wall.

I got a brick from the two scars on my left hand and a brick from waiting in line for good concerts.

A brick from your pine scented car and a another brick from my car with the squeaky wheel.

Please don't be another brick in my wall.



I got a brick from the breakfast club and one more from st. elmos fire.

A brick from say anything and another from pretty in pink.

I got a brick from all those family parties and all those unfinished art pieces.

I have bricks from rainy days and bricks from sunny days.

And I have thousands of bricks from endless thunder storms.

Please don't be another brick in my wall.



I got a brick from that bad hair die and those jeans I used to wear ever day.

Please don't be another brick in my wall

I got a brick from a musician and a brick from a poet.

I got a brick from a gypsy and a brick from an adventurer.

Please don't be another brick in my wall.

I have bricks from empty hearts and empty hands.

bricks from a mind full of thoughts and lips full of questions.

Please don't be another brick in my wall.







I have a thousand up turned bricks in my wall and I just hope you aren't one of them.

Don't be just another brick. 





I know why

It's been raining since five in the morning and baby I think I know why.

I think I know why the sun rises in the morning and why the moon only shows at night.

And I think I know why the rain makes me feel infinite.

I want to write it all on the back of a postcard and address it to you because

This world has kept me waiting for far too long, but baby I think I know why.

I have been pacing the kitchen floors and the bath water is over flowing but I think I know why.

I think I know why I still miss you and why we never kissed

And I think I know why words are so powerful and why we love Paris.

And If you want to know why too, take a look outside on a half rainy day.

because I think I know why we can no longer let the world control our thoughts.

At least Not on rain filled days like these.

I don't want to stay a ghost in the rain,

So every time the sky starts to cry, that's when I will know why.

We will all know why.

I believed in love at second sight

This is not a love story.

until I met you, I believed that love was real.

That two halves could make a whole.

my mind was a closed toothpaste factory,

But You turned it into something beautifully unspoken.

You showed me how to think, how to live, how to...love

We destroyed the world with our hand gun,

and our unknown milky disorders combined into one unstoppable love.

Some lovers kiss under the stars

but we explored them.

every touch was a brand new constellation

and we hung onto every star like chandeliers.

we swung across the universe with our hands grasped tightly,

Together we made a galaxy of our own

I started to believe it was love at second sight.

Most people hide their pain in their beauty

but we hid our beauty in our pain

Until I met you, my heart was oblivious to fear.

You showed me what a heartbreak was.

now I cry every time that song plays in my car, especially on rainy Tuesdays

That song that would take us into another dimension full of words without pain.

when that song played, We never thought about tomorrow because our words were the only tomorrow we cared about.

I can't watch the phantom of the opera without turning into a waterfall.

rushing downward, heavily into the past,

and you're the only one who could see through the rushing waters.

Our history isn't as beautiful as I thought it was

and your mystery was the only thing that got to me.

Until I met you, I thought love would save me

but You showed me what a heart ache was.

you never told me your middle name

but I soon figured out it was betrayal

and all I wrote were endings and I drafted the love stories.

My heart sunk a little deeper in my chest

and My teeth sunk a little deeper into a bittersweet end.

You were trying to fix my brokeness, but your eye lids were always closed.

I tried calling you last week,

but you changed your number

so thank you, for showing me that love isn't real

But I still have hope that one day, it will be.