i'm never going to leave.

i'd like to thank polly baker for her beautiful words and how much i related to them.
and jane q. porter for making me feel like i'm an incredible writer,
and cornelia boom for making me feel something over and over again.

i'd like to thank sgt. pepper for his creativity and flat stanley for making me want to be real. i'd like to thank caroline owens for her honesty, jane doe for her bravery, tom lansek for not caring what people think and writing with a meaning and elsie grace for writing from her heart. 

i'd like to thank sam durrant for not being afraid to be who she is, alice s. Blackwell for taking my breath away, hancock for his nice comments and celeste cobain for writing with so much passion. 

and to mr nelson.
i'm sorry i'm always tardy.
some days waking up is just too much.
but you truly have changed me and inspired me.

and to all the others,

thank you so much.

my mother dreamed i would be a dancer. but i hated the tutu's and the tightly slicked back buns gave me a headache.
my dance teacher told me i didn't put enough sass and personality into my movements. 

i've always been quiet
i always was in the back row in the dance recitals
and i've never liked attention drawn to me,

so revealing my pen name is terrifying.

but here it goes, 

blonde hair and green eyes with light brown eyelashes that she wishes were a little longer.

she listens more than she talks
and she especially likes listening to passionate people talk about what they love.

she will always love the snow more than the sun
and the rain more than the rainbow.
maybe that means she's depressed.
she's not quite sure.

she can fall asleep faster than you can and the bathtub will always be her favorite place. 

she's horrible at making eye contact and she doesn't know how to yell. 

she still counts on her fingers in math class
and she still doesn't know how to type correctly

she's a nail biter

a knuckle cracker

embarassed too easily

and lies in bed till 2 am overthinking.

she's never had any huge dreams
and she doesn't know who the hell she is yet

but she's always dreamed of going to paris

and now that she's finally here

she's never going to leave. 

                  

               --kailee hogge.

blisters.

my fingers have blisters.
they have blisters from plucking the strings so loudly
and so hard.

the strings of my harp
and the strings of my heart.

i imagine hearts like a harp.
the c strings of my harp are red. 
the c string is the heartbeat. the string you hear the most. and the string that starts it all.
c d e f g a b
we all started with a beating heart.   

the f strings are black.
the f strings are the heartbreaks, the deaths and the hurting.
the string that catches the sounds of sorrow, making it dark and black.

the d string is all the things you feel.
the d string comes right after the c. it comes after the heart beat.
because after we hear a heartbeat we touch it to make sure it's real.
we place our hand on heartbeats because it reminds us how to feel.


the e string is the love. because love ends with an e. the e string catches the sound of love.
the e string catches the kisses
it catches the sound of the first time he said "i love you."
it catches all of the fingers being laced together.

the g string is the regrets.
the things we wish we hadn't said.
and all the things we wished we would have done.

the a string is the happy.
the a string catches the sound of laughs
it catches all the smiles
smiles are happy and smiles are white.
the a strings on my harp are white.

the b string is the everything.
the string that comes last and the string that puts everything together.
it catches the sound of heartbeats
it catches all of the feelings
it catches the sound of the first time he said "i love you"
it catches the heartbreaks

it catches the regrets
And the sound of laughter.

my fingers have blisters from plucking the strings on my harp so loudly and so hard.

hearts are like harps.

they are both full of music.
But if you pluck a string too loudly and too hard it breaks.

just like a heart breaks.

your fingers must be covered in blisters because you have plucked my heart too loudly

and too hard

and it's broken. 

but it helped.

my uncle took his own life at 20 years old.

his brother hasn't stopped drinking since the day his best friend took a gun to his forehead. 

my mom was 17 and she said a part of her died that day.

my grandma lives with her sons death every day of her life.
been on 20 different types on anti depressants.

but anti depressants don't fix a life.

the pills may help for a moment but a few hours after the shallow the pain comes back again.


one life taken messes up many lives that are just trying to live.

i'm not saying it's selfish.

i'm saying it hurts.

a few hours after the swallow the pain comes back again.
but a few hours without pain is better than no hours.

my grandmas pills don't fix all her pain. 
but they help.

smiling at someone in the hallway sure doesn't fix their life.
but it helps.

i woke up with a bloody nose at 3am last night.
my dad got out of bed and hugged me and i can't remember the last time he did.
his hug didn't stop the blood from sliding down my throat.
but it helped.

and i didn't know him.
i never talked to him once.
i just knew he had long blonde hair and he smiled at me in the hall one morning.

and i remember because the night before was a rough one

and his smile helped that moment in my day,

it helped.  

the sister I never had.

when i think of death.
i think of her.

black hair with brown circles above her eyes.
she had 4 legs and shook her butt with attitude when she walked.

she was sort of a brat.

but the kind of brat the boys fell in love with.
the kind of brat who's fun to gossip with.

she ate everything.
she at all the gifts left on the front porch
my glove
my black heels
that bag of rolls
and she ate my reese's peanut butter cups from trick or treating.
every single one. and there was more than 30 because those are my favorite.


she was fat.

and i know she liked herself that way.

she got annoyed with my other dog.
she bit his face literally.
they were like brother and sister but she was embarrassed of him.
he was 2, she was 7.
and she was the queen.

she knew how to shake your hand and I would show everyone.
even the fed ex guy.

when i tapped my shoulders she jumped up and i held her paws as she danced on two legs.

she tilted her head when you said her name.
she tilted her head when I told her I hated my mom.
she tilted her head when I told her I kissed my friends ex.
she tilted her head when she wanted more treats.

she fell asleep on my lap everyday
 and we lied together on the pavement like we were sisters.

she was the sister i never had.


and that's what I miss most.

I didn't grow up with a sister. I grew up with a dog.
and I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

she died peacefully.
on the backyard grass in her sleep,

the way i hope to die.

and yes she was a dog.
and yes i know you have lost your mom.
and you have lost your dad.
and your brother and your sister
and your best friend.

and my dog doesn't compare to any of your stories.

but she's my only experience with death.

and I'm scared for the experiences to come,

because i lied with her dead body 2 hours after she stopped breathing

hoping

as my tears fell off my cheeks and landed on hers that she would breathe again.

But sadly I learned that doesn't work.

                    

                 

addicted.

let's let the sun illuminate our skin.

let's walk on the beach barefoot and watch the sand fill the cracks of our toes. 

let's let the sun kiss our noses
let's get addicted to the sunlight.

let's drink caffeine because that's the only thing we can drink.

let's get addicted to it.

let's sneak out at midnight and gaze at the specks of silver in the sky.

let's fall in love.

sneak out at midnight and let him wrap his arms around you.
let him hold your cheeks and let yourself close your eyes as he kisses your lips that taste like cherry chap stick. 

let's get addicted to love. 

we take adderall cause we can't focus

we take accutane cause of the zits on our young faces

midol for the cramps

advil for the headaches from the words our mothers scream at us

Zzzquil for the sleepless nights. The nights after heartbreaks from the love we got addicted to.

aloe vera for the sunburns and the sunlight we got addicted to

cherry chap stick for the next boy
the next heart break
because we all know we will get addicted to love again

over 
and 
over
and over 

again.

more aloe Vera because the sun light helps us focus
the sun helps us live.

let's drink more caffeine because that's the only thing we can drink.

let's hang out with all of our fake friends 
let's drive the fast cars our parents bought us.

we can't get addicted to being young

because one day we're going to be old

we're going to have our own kids

and they will have their fake friends

and their own fast cars that we bought them.

their lips will smell like cherry chap stick
the smell of heartbreaks and addictions.

you'll scream at them and they will take advil for the headaches

midol for the cramps

accutane for the zits

adderall to focus

zzzquil for the sleepless nights

and in between the screams you will remember that your lips once tasted and smelled like cherry chap stick

and you will look down at the diet coke can in your hand and see that you're still addicted to caffeine

and that you were once like them

and that you are still 

just like 


them.

what it feels like to be human.

when you see the top of your fishing pole move. the feeling of a fish tugging on your line. when you are waiting patiently for that fish to swallow your bate. when that fish finally bites, when he finally swallows your bate, you start to hope. you are hoping while you reel in your line that the fish stays on it.

when you reel in your line to see that you have caught a fish,

                   that's what it feels like to be human.



The feeling you get when a plane blasts off. that feeling when the plane goes insanely fast. the feeling your whole body gets when the plane leaves the ground. you look out the little circle window and you're in the air.   

  you realize that you're literally flying. 

                   that's what it feels like to be human. 

when you are watching a movie with a boy and you find yourself placing your hand closer to his. you then wait patiently, hoping that he will hold it. 

when he finally touches your hand, when he finally holds it,

                       that's what it feels like to be human.



when you wake up and pull the string on your blinds to see what the weather is like that day. you pull the string down and see something that makes you smile. a fresh bed of white, fluffy snow on your backyard grass. 

when you see that first snow of the season,

                    that's what it feels like to be human. 



those moments when you are laughing so hard that your stomach is in so much pain. it's a pain like any other. 

that pain in your stomach from uncontrolled laughter, laughter you can't stop, laughter you don't want to stop because it feels so good. 

                    that's what it feels like to be human.



the day you will take your daughter skiing for the first time. you teach her how to do "pizza" with her skis and you take her to the top of the bunny hill. you see the fear in her little eyes as she starts to go down the hill. you can't help but smile because you remember what that felt like. you remember the fear you had in your eyes. 

you watch as she slowly makes it down the hill and you watch the fear leave her eyes as she shouts, "let's do that again!" 

          that's what I imagine it will feel like to be human.



The day you will see that little girl all dressed in white. You will see the excitement in her eyes. You will see the happiness float off of her long eyelashes. 

The little girl you raised, the little girl you taught how to ski is now ready to love someone else. You can't help but smile because that's when you will know you have truly succeeded. 

            that's what I imagine it will feel like to be human.

The day you will be laying on your bed, old, fragile but very happy. The day you will conclude your journey of life, your journey of becoming something, someone of purpose.

The day you will close your eyes for the very last time. The day you will look over to see your handsome, old but happy husband holding your fragile hands. The day you will look over at the man you still love. The day you will see him smiling at you with tears in his eyes as he says "I'll see you over there soon." 

                   
              that's what it will feel like to be human.        


                                     That's when I'll know I am human.

intro no. 2

intro no. 2.. i guess I'm already addicted to Paris.

i get my self esteem from a 7 year old orphan girl i met in Africa last summer. she looked me in the eyes and pointed at the zits on my face and smiled. she said "wow those are such pretty sprinkles, i wish i had those."

i talk about my dead dog too much. it's because that's truly the only experience I've had with death. i layed with her dead body for an hour sobbing. hoping that as my tears slid off my face and landed on hers that she would breathe again. sadly i learned it doesn't work. 

i can't whistle or make a taco with my tongue. i also can't wink. i have a double jointed toe though so i tell myself that makes up for it. i also can make a killer goat noise. 

i save everything. i saved the grape juice lid from the bottle we drank in our place way up in the canyon. 

i saved the red monkey a secret admirer gave to me on 5th grade valentines day. 

i kept a rock from the giant mountain of little rocks my cousin and i used to play in and called it "MOUNT ROCKY." we used to have the best imaginations back when we were 6. it's sad because when her family comes over, she doesn't even talk to me anymore. but even if she doesn't i'll always remember
                 MOUNT ROCKY .                                           
the tree house in my backyard is where my friend and i pretended to be jack and annie in the magic tree house. thank goodness those books were made. they taught me to imagine.

i always end up with 100 seashells after going to the beach. my mom tells me i'm bad at narrowing things down. i just didn't want any of the shells to feel left out.

i have names for every ornament on my Christmas tree. again, if i named just one then the rest would feel left out.   

oh and i just really hate Styrofoam. 

so there's some more about me.