the crinoline in the corner
blinks twice
at the mascara
spinning on the vanity
slowly leaking blood
house cats pirouette down hallways
of marble and steel
ripping their claws out
as to not interfere with their work
******* don’t last forever
they say
two years max
three if you deflate them
every night before you sleep
there’s a lily
in the dining room
who pierced her tongue
with a cufflink
she once wore a crinoline too
you know
her sister works at a diner
from four to close
no scrambled eggs here
she’ll say
it's over easy or nothing
sausage on the side
but the crinoline
is too close to the fireplace
and the cats
don’t know how to love
while the lily
stopped being beautiful
when her sister melted
into the frying pan
a spark punches the crinoline
upside the face
and a ****** cannonballs
towards the toilet
drowning in bliss
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 2:22 PM UTC
I have a rainbow for a mind.
The colors are there, always in the corner of my vision and since they won’t crumble and go away I’ve decided to accept them.
It isn’t always easy.
When the boy from physics yells my name it is navy blue.
And when he runs down the hall after me the sound his shoes make is orange, orange in short staccato bursts.
And then he punches me, hits me, teases me for something I can’t control and all I see is the sound of his fists beating against my skin.
Red, red, blinding red.
And the noise grows and the colors come at me in all directions.
Red, orange, yellow, green, indigo, violet.
Red, orange, yellow, green, indigo, violet.
And suddenly I can’t take it anymore so I squint my eyes shut as hard as I possibly can and I scream.
(My scream is periwinkle. It has always been my favorite color.)
…
I have never once seen a black and white movie.
All my dreams are in color and my memories are too.
I see colors when I’m talking on the phone, listening to the radio, sitting in the corner of my room where it is just loud enough to see the sound of the air conditioner, making itself known with little beige waves.
All my life has been red swirling with yellow swirling with pink swirling with blue swirling with purple.
I have a rainbow for a mind.
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 2:22 PM UTC
Floors frigid like ice
against my bare legs. I count
ten speckles per tile
At least one-hundred
tiles per stall but it’s hard
enough to focus.
Paper rolled in *****
that can’t seem to hold their shape
Unraveling.
Lead scraped against stone
making everything dull gray.
Names scribbled over.
The lock screams as it
slides to the right of the door.
Seemingly mocking.
Three large, cracked mirrors
stare unyieldingly through me.
Five minutes ‘till class.
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 2:21 PM UTC
Be mad.
Be wild.
Get upset.
Cry, at least as often as necessary.
Scream.
Yell.
Embrace the darker part of you utterly and entirely.
Be afraid.
You are not a single rose garden.
You are an entire world,
containing both sunshine and thunderstorms,
and maybe even a tornado or two.
As Walt Whitman once said,
you contain multitudes.
Let your inner fire rage on;
it is part of you too.
Because, my dear,
you are LARGE.
You are more than just a six by two rectangular cutout of a human being.
Your thoughts can start fires.
Your words can change hearts.
Your emotions can illuminate everything at least within a ten mile radius.
You are not just a piece of sand on a crowded beach.
Hell, you’re the whole beach,
and the ocean,
and the mountains,
and the city,
and everything in between.
You are LARGE,
and I hope you never forget it.
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 2:17 PM UTC
How embarrassing it is to be human.
Always failing,
faking,
flailing,
falling
never once realizing the power vested in our souls.
We are like elephants, arguably the biggest and strongest creatures in the animal kingdom.
Yet until we learn to harness our capabilities,
we will always be scared of a mouse.
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 2:15 PM UTC
I can see your hand as it reaches towards me
Slowly, slowly, ever so slowly
(I should have known you would be just as timid as I am)
I count your fingers as they make their presence known against my back.
One, two, three, four, five
Each one a little dewdrop of warmth
Making that small section of my back almost as warm as my blushing face
Your thumb starts moving in lazy circles
Light, so very light
So gently that I am not even sure if you are touching my skin,
perhaps just the small bubble of air around it -
Either way it feels electric
You are a current
And I know I am at risk of being electrocuted
But you are making my hair stand on end
Physically you are touching my back but in my mind it feels more like you are touching my heart
Shocking me again and again and again
I never want to get used to this feeling
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 2:14 PM UTC
A brain and a soul.
Just a brain and a soul.
A brain and a soul,
and a big gaping hole.
A brain and a soul,
and the weight of the world.
Can a brain and a soul
ever act in accord?
A brain and a soul,
both happy and sad.
My brain and my soul,
feel both good things and bad.
A brain and a soul,
learning more everyday.
The brain and the soul,
slowly paving a way.
A brain and a soul,
expectations on lock.
Fearful brain and a soul,
angst running amok.
A brain and a soul,
what could be more true?
With a brain and a soul,
panic often ensues.
A brain and a soul.
Just a brain and a soul.
A brain and a soul,
and a big gaping hole.
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 7:26 AM UTC
She was small. So very small.
A girl afraid of being too large,
crushed by the weight of the world on her shoulders.
She was complicated. Oh so complicated.
Both happy and sad and trying to figure out why,
in love with the feelings that come with being alive.
She was nervous. Horribly, horribly nervous.
The crushing anxiety often too much to bear,
causing her to curl up into a ball of fear, sometimes too scared to breathe.
She was a lover. One of life’s many lovers.
Deeply fascinated by every human heart,
a bookworm because she loved the way words resonated with her soul.
She was small. So very, very small.
...
But through writing she could make herself LARGE.
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 7:25 AM UTC
they say you have to have courage to be an artist
I say I’m working on it
there is a door inside of my heart
and it is bulging outward in the middle
I'd be lying if I said it wasn’t full of light
but so much light is a little bit scary
I’m not so sure what i’m afraid of,
but as many times as my mind has argued that
fear is irrational, my heart has always managed to
fight back and win
Not today
Today I am going to turn that doorknob ⅛ of an inch
and tomorrow I am going to turn it ⅛ of an inch more
One day soon, I am going to be radiant
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 7:24 AM UTC
sometimes I think I’m not fit to be a human being
I just can’t seem to handle everyday life
I’m drowning in more stress than I know how to deal with
stress that is only amplified by my own mind
I’m breaking up, breaking down, breaking apart
shattering like glass hit by a hammer
*a hammer made of a suffocating workload
a hammer made of crippling anxiety
a hammer made of ever-present loneliness*
I’m just trying to make it through each day
despite the shards of glass in my wake
who knew being human could be this hard
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 6:35 PM UTC