"Bye", I said.
Over the phone, which was foolish.
You were entitled to more than that.
It was foolish to dwell on the inevitability of last days together.
For fifteen months I waited and doubted.  
A beautiful hummingbird on my finger.
You never flew off.
Even when coldly advised you to do so.
Even when I had little to feed you.
Mesmerized by you, you delicacy.
But damn it all, it's ended.
I shook you off my finger and stuck up the other.
Tonight we bed down miles apart.
Lonely alone, and lonely in company.
And our love burned, but stung me sorely.
A man never repaired and prepared.
Old love scars that didn't heal.
Always frightened and delirious.
Letting my wells run dry.
So much of me hopes you call for me in the morning.  
And come despite my cold heart and shoulder.
Reject my last word, my deadly three letters.
Persist as I resist.
Stopping only when we find our wings woven and our nest warm.

It all began as an observation,
a mere innocent study,
to watch people in cars,
from cars.

First, the tired workers,
who glared and stared in the road in front,
who slumped in their seats,
who held the steering wheels in a glum manner,
who had dark circles in their eyes,
who had cans of beers at the back seat,
tired, weary, drained, exhausted,spent.

The cheeky children,
who yelled at their siblings,
who wrestled with siblings,
who sat listening to lectures,
who texted with their phones,
who went tippy tappy with their laptops,
who ignored the world; reading,
innocent, busy adolescents.

Of course, there are mothers,
who glance at their sleepy children every few minutes,
who smile at their babies dotingly,
who gave loud lectures to kids,
who smoked cigars,
who was on the phone,o was just driving ahead,
loving, fussy, unleisured.

There were the out-going,
who head-banged furiously to booming music,
who sang aloud to radio,
who chatted enthusiasticly with passengers,
who smiled the whole way through the journey,
who stuck their hands out to feel the wind,
who had nothing to worry about,
free, wonderful, liberated, loose.

Also, some were fretful,
who needed to visit hospitals,
who had their heart broken,
who got rejected at interviews,
who lost someone,
who is obviously in anxiety, who were simply drunk,
worrysome, tired, sad.

And then there's me,
who had nothing better to do,
than to watch and observe,
and felt many things should be changed,
eccentric, weird.

I carry the weight of a million troubles
Watching my family tear apart
And everything we had, fell to rubble.

The selfish stubborn that flows about
My sister and mother are broken
I'm stuck in a middle and can't get out.

You stupid ignorant child
Don't you even care
Your relationship's defiled.

Oh but I must have forgot
Everythings about you
Even if our family will rot.

I dread the thought of seeing you
It turns my stomach
I know she dislikes it too.

That isn't how it should be
We should all be excited
Why can't everyone be happy.

I hate this way of life
Please grow up
I can't live with constant strife.

I'll see you very soon
So very soon indeed
The desperate month of June.

See you soon my dear sister
Are you prepared
Because I'm ready for a twister.

There is a pain swelling
Like a boat listing in the ocean
And every time, all I feel is the sickness
Sickness with Pain.
One and One make Two..
So why am I all alone?

Because the Two has split
And I'm alone as One
Shattered to millions of pieces,
With no hope for recovery,
Because you stole my chance
The Glue for My Heart is gone.

And everytime the Two talk,
it is like a song stuck on repeat,
With me writing false messages
Of Hope and Wonder for the Future
And desiring to speak my mind to You
I'm Alone and Lost without My Light

And How I Really Feel is Sick
Sick, Disgusted, Lifeless, Hated
Prove me wrong, My Second Half,
And take a walk down Memory Lane
Open up the pain and embrace it with me
Because with You I can feel at peace
With Myself

But Deep Down, I feel it is my fault

I think
my father was born a giant
but somewhere along the line
he shrunk
to the size of a man.

Once,
like a pea,
he could hold me
in a single hand.

Rough,
and calloused.
They felt like sand.
Warm, and welcoming.

My father’s laugh
like the ocean
would roar and boom
and grow soft.

My father’s roar
like the storm
would rise and fall

with the fall of his hand.

I once was a pea.
I once was a seed.

I grew.

I grew and grew
and grew
until the tears
weren’t quite so ready
and my hands were rough
like sand
paper.

If only I could
smooth
out my life.

Every surface tread
with steady steps.
Every surface
would be even.

My thoughts
I could fit
in a neat, tidy
box.

File them away.
File him
away.

Though I imagine he would
Hate
the tight, muddy space
beneath the ground.

I imagine he would
hate
me more.

For now
the only sounds I hear,
blows I fear

are the ones that won’t fit in the file cabinet.

When I look back,
I remember Montpelier is where I started.
Things were simpler, the days were easier, and everything was brighter.
It’s amazing how much has changed since then.

Back then I didn’t worry about school.
Education was free, I loved learning, and recess was invigorating.
But now, school has conquered my mind with questions like:
Can I pay next year?
What about loans?
Can I keep my scholarship?
Will I have to drop out?

The struggle is alive people, and if you don’t realize it will eat you alive.

Over the years, friends have decreased, family members deceased…
Days have grown longer, and the years have become harder.
My chromatic days filled with vibrant colors have faded away…
The lively colors of my youth have faded away to black, white, and somber greys.
Black carries the bad times, the uncertainty, the doubt.
These times are constant…
White carries the pockets of sunshine within your life…
The good days, when everything is going right, or when a certain special person steps in your life.
And, the grey carries those days where you just don’t know…
Those days where you are stuck in the mundane cycle, constantly trying to find your drive.

I just wonder, where did those vibrant days go?
Because most days I am stuck in the greys…
And, simply, I just do not where did Montpelier go?

- j.m.

1920s wannabe
lie and cheat to end up on top
stuck in the past
loving a girl who has long moved on
reaching so far for a silly green light
that he passes it without realizing
in the end
he did end up on top
on top of a raft
on top of his pool
on top for the first time that summer
only to be on top to stay
thanks to two jealous men
(Mr. Tom Buchanan)
and
(Mr. George Wilson)
jealous for different reasons
but aiming at the same man
who ends up
shot to bits
on top
of his shattered American Dream

Who am I;
to say to you that what you believe could never be true. Would you look at all the facts that Im showing to you, instead of walking away with that narrow minded view. Since youve got all the answers, tell me, Who am I to you

Who hears all of your stories, when you just need to complain
Who picks up the pieces, when all you have is pain
I am there when you are lonely, but that doesnt seem to do.
Why dont you just fucking tell me, who am I to you

Am I temporary or just for show
Are you stuck with me, but dont want to say so
Does it matter to you, if I stay or go
If I dont ask now, will I ever know

i've never heard anne sexton speak
and i think i've fallen in love
a masculine power
a spiritual honey dew
seeping from the hole
a ripping and raping voice
who holds a magnetism so strong
that she stuck her head in an oven
it's like we can't hold back our emotions
and emotions so strong
the impulses so impulsive
it burns you down
a burning crucifix you are