I am ripe fruit sitting out on a hot day
I am toast without butter jam tea or coffee
I am a caterpillar stuck in my chrysalis
I am a model with no confidence
I am straight-lined unbrushed teeth
I am a physician without a single patient
I am an actress who can’t remember lines
I am eating right in the wrong portions

I have potential yet I have no purpose
Yet I wish to let it seek me out
Instead of seeking it out for myself

I’m not a beautiful person
I’m not exactly unique
I know enough but not a lot
But I am still here
And that’s wonderful
Or so I’ve heard
But I’m trying my ****** hardest
I hope they’ll see that someday

The sun rises from stage right
She follows her cues throughout the day
She exits in the left wing
And then the moon steals her show

He captivates his audience with ambiance
His chorus twinkles ever so slightly
He plays to the romance of the night
And she wishes she could do the same

So she requests an hour’s difference
And watches the moon’s anticlimactic exit
She takes a deep breath and focuses
And she enters, once again, in vibrancy

Her supporting actor plays with her hair
As his waves dance to her brilliance
She takes her time with her movement
And her elegant chorus billows high above

When her show is coming to a close
She gives it all she’s got
She paints the stage with a dainty hue
And exits at the peak of her performance

She smiles from the wing
As she gets her standing ovation

Nimble fingers and humble toes
Each with a different set of fingerprints
He examined each one and kissed them
And then he lay them down

Tight cheek bones and a concave torso
He let his hand run down her jagged ribs
He memorized the veins she tried to open. And his tears took her blood’s place

He felt the lines etched in her skin
And he noticed their strategic placement
His lip quivered when hers lay still
His eyes watered when hers turned pale

He couldn’t collect himself
So he collected thin strands of her hair
He compiled enough to touch her forever
Then he stood, taking her in one last time

Let it be known that below my hard exterior I am cherry taffy being pulled with every step

Let it be known that my skin is mailable and my tissue is raw despite my bandages

Let it be known that I’m oozing melted sugar that stained my wrist red and my teeth grey

Let it be known that I am sore from the twisting motion that stretches my words so they don’t come across as they are

Let it be known that I have scars that are not invisible but are always concealed

Let it be known that I have wounds that are gaping and open but never revealed

Let it be known that I am brittle and cracking and cold and curdled

Let it be known that I am wondering what the Hell I should do now that I failed at giving up

My life shattered.
It just fell down into little pieces in front of me.
And there wasn’t a thing that I could do, it seemed, except look at all the colorful shards that lay scattered across the floor.
I picked one up, and held it in my hand, up to my heart, and I forced it in my mind.
And as I worked I kept it there, that one little piece, that made me feel safe and happy and wonderfully scared.
Time passed, and I had created something different.
It wasn’t the same as before, but it was beautiful; a mosaic of my past and my hopes for my future.
But one piece was missing- the one I had held onto for so long.
And I thought all that time that I had studied it so intently and memorized it’s shape so meticulously that when I was ready to fit the piece into the center of my creation, it would fit perfectly.
But instead, it resisted. Desperate to complete it, I pushed and pushed with everything and nothing left inside me. The work of art began to crack from the middle outwards. And i found myself in agony deciding if I would I risk it all for the remarkable piece that didn’t even fit, or if i would I give up on something I had idealized for too long with too much of myself? But before I could move, something interesting happened. One of the shards took its place, and the creation seemed to embrace it. And I could see my own reflection in the center of everything for the first time.

I’ve counted the tick marks on my wrists
Like I’ve counted the books of the Bible
I’ve been drunk off wine and water
Like I’ve been baptized in it

I’ve cried monsoons of yearning and ache
Like I’ve teared up from forgiveness
I’ve justified my actions with ignorance
Like I’ve been given too many chances

I’ve gravitated towards my transgressions
Like I’ve asked for your deliverance
I’ve actively acted against your will
Like I’ve told you I would trust you

And I can’t move mountains when you can
But I can choose to accept it
And I can’t push boulders from my tomb
But I can choose to believe it

Here I am
Finally fed
Denying my premature death
And in your name I pray...
That you’d let it be

She left her keys on the coffee table. But he wouldn't give them back. In fact, he kept moving them around the house, places where he knew she would eventually see. But as soon as she caught sight, he would move them again. And she couldn't ask him where he had put them because after this long of a time had gone, it was too humiliating to admit she was still looking. And even though she knew he knew she was, she kept dangling the replacements in his face to show him that she'd taken care of it. But she still wants the original keys back; desperately.

I wandered into a cave the other day
It was hollow and dark and damp and dank
I threw a stone into the empty grey
I smiled and turned as if I had someone there to thank

I explored the space with a candle and a stick
I cranked my neck down to the rocks below
I utterly uttered a name that made me sick
The haunting sound made a resonating echo

And for some reason I waited, expecting an answer
It wasn't long before, again, I saw I was alone
I knew that I wasn't exactly the second-glancer
But that's why I fell when you cast the first stone

That's why I sat at the bottom of a cave shivering, shaking
Waiting for an excuse to drag me back to my real life
To go from a rock ridden home to a home that's breaking
To go back and pick up my burden of strife

And on my way out I saw a drop fall and a waveform
And on my way out I saw a shimmer against the darkness
And on my way out the rain kissed my face like a perfect storm
And on my way out I knew there was a light I could harness

My cell phone screen lights up
Like my face when I see your name there.
But I don’t have enough storage
For the conversations our texts hold.
And I’m running out of data
From googling all your references.
The family plan isn’t good enough
For the family we could start.
And Snapchat can’t keep the memories
I’ve kept of you and me.
You can’t make digital eye contact
But if you could, we do, all the time.
And there aren’t enough keys to type
About how well I know you.
And there aren’t enough emojis to express
The raw emotion we’ve shared together.
But I cracked my screen today...
and I cut my finger on the glass.
Because texting you instead of seeing you
Is a mistake in more ways than one.

Me
That word; it’s poisonous to us
“It’s not you, it’s me.”
“That’s so me.”
“He hurt me.”
Me
I don’t know what to do with that word
I don’t know why I feel that way about
That word
Me
It’s something we say every day
It’s something we feel every day
It’s something we worry about all day
Me
It’s the problem we all have
It’s the problem none of us can fix until
We hit rock bottom and then that’s all we have left
Me
“Me and you.”
“It’s selfish of me.”
“It’s difficult for me to...”
it’s someone I’m stuck with
It’s someone I don’t want to know so well
It’s someone I want others to get to know
Me

Hey...
I know it's been a long time...
That may even be an understatement but...
I-I just wanted to, uh...
Well, in all honesty, I guess I don't really know, I just...
I never got to tell you something you needed to hear.
Something you should keep in mind.
Something I need to say out loud before it ruins me.
I-
I miss you.
Not in a particularly romantic sense, I just miss everything.
I miss the way you made me feel...
The way you treated me.
Even though I knew you were-
You made me unhealthy.
You made me sick.
You made me hate myself more than anyone else ever did.
But I still feel like I need you to make me, me.
I'm in disgust of myself with and without but...
At least when you're with me I can stand to look at myself.
You make me feel beautiful...
Um, anyway...
I really shouldn't have said any of that-
I should go...
But thanks for letting me stop by.

-My stay with starvation

Your versatility makes me weak in the knees.
You're as subtle as neon and as patient as a hungry child.
You're as soft as sandpaper and as approachable as a kiss.
You can be everything and nothing with whatever I decide.

You're the most intimidating thing I've ever seen.

I would get nauseous
After just one cigarette
But since then I’ve grown a tolerance
And now I find friendship from nicotine

I would overthink
About the skin that lived on my body
But since then I’ve grown a tolerance
And I find endearment from my curves

I would rewrite
About love and everything in between
But since then I’ve grown a tolerance
And I see progress instead of mistakes

I would fall
At the sight or even the smell of you
But since then I’ve grown a tolerance
And I think this time it’s gonna stick

My legs dangled off the edge of the bed
And my hands were being held
My question dangled off the edge of the conversation
And my answer never came

My fingers tightened over the cotton covers
And my heart skipped every beat
My stomach tightened when I felt eyes on me
And my head began to spin

My singing echoed through the house
And my neighbors listened in
My memories echoed through my mind
And my chest began to heave

My tears were wiped away
And my arms were wrapped around shoulders
"My love, stop worrying about little things,
And forget about the past."

Thumbing through pictures of people I don’t know
Looking at paintings by artists no one shows
Watching for patterns to see if I can escape
People not watching my plays or reading my poems

Suddenly art is no longer subjective
Now it’s only credited by the public eye
And I’ve in turn lost my creative eye
And now I’ve lost sight of my objective

To tell a story through my point of view
But now I just sit here and stew
On what they’ll want/see/hear/do
But my words are not meant for all of you

Now that my dreams have become reality
Should I be excited?
That my heart is going to be on display?
In front of my friends and family and him!

******* ambitions caused me to see
That maybe fame isn’t worth insecurity
But maybe that’s why so few people
Come to fame in the first place

My dreams sprawl out in every direction
And I don’t know which way to go
I could be a coward and keep to myself
Or I could be loud and proclaim my pain

Facing my audience, I stand in silence
Waiting for their applause before I perform
Hoping they’re entertained by nothing
So I don’t have to show all them all of me

Rudimentary feelings
Bursting from my mouth
Arbitrary dealings
surely going south
I was only naïve to think
you would not remain
I had only perceived a link
between hopelessness and distain
so I’ll *** my love up in a ball
and throw it down a well
every memory bad and all
so nobody can tell
although it still exists
it won’t get in the way
because new insists
to give my old away

You were like a coat of nail polish-
I felt pretty when you were there, but you made me feel cheap, which made it satisfying to slowly chip away at little pieces of you.
But when you were completely gone,
I felt like I was missing something.

Shadows of a future dancing in the light.

When I look into the darkness of another early night.

How many hours have now met me and passed?

How many days until I finally reach my last?

In a room full of dust I am forgotten waste.

A repulsive disease plaguing my loved ones with distaste.

Little legs can’t take me as far as they might.

I remain in darkness so as not to cause a fright.

Samsa the traveling salesman; a haunting, unfamiliar name.

Samsa the traveling salesman; soon gone before his fame.

Why should a sun dictate
What we see and what we don’t?
Are we that insecure
That we have to pay
For our passion
To be seen?

Soft skin
Flirty grin
Brown eyes
No disguise

Curvy figure
Gazes linger
Lips are bitten
While we’re smitten

No honey as sweet
None other can compete
No addiction so enticing
My mouth’s full of icing

“I have stretched out my skin
I have worn my face out
This is the last day of my life
And the first day of hers

Everything I am and have been
Is now sewn into her lineage
Everything she will one day be
Has to be better than what I was

The pressure of creating a perfect home
Is the only thing that keeps me calm
The stresses of becoming a role model
Only make me try to be better

The reason I’m in this position
Is the reason I get out of bed everyday
This is the last day of my life
And the first day of hers”

- Who I strive to be when my time comes

Lovely lovely rosy
You ran from my pale cheeks
In my mouth you’ve cozied-
Hiding there for weeks

In my spit you linger
Causing me to cough
When I’m spitting up my dinner
To shed a few pounds off

Dear skin,
For all intents and purposes
For all those willing to listen
For all people who are lost
For all the threatening thoughts
For all the times it happened
For all the times it never did-
This is why I did it.
Sincerely,


Knife.

I stood, unformed, a block of stone
I had no name I had no form
I was unharmed and unhappy
I was uninspired I was wasted potential.

In you walked with my purpose in your mind
Inch by inch you conquered my exterior
Making a rock into a marble masterpiece
I took up an image you chose for me

My imperfection chiseled away
My silhouette carved from the core
My details etched to refinement
Your mark engraved in my mind

The moon woke me up with a sideways grin
In my bassinette, in my hollowed home
I used my foot to scratch my chin
I ruffled and preened, as I lacked a comb

Brother has gone to find me dreaming
Sister sees me restlessly sleeping
Father is a sun whose face is now beaming
Mother can be found behind me, weeping

Wings are for my stamina
Beak is for my bite
Bone becomes shear lamina
Now I can all but take flight.

I remember when I was a kid
When you counted and I hid
And you found me curled up, hiding
Behind the dark, I was confiding

Don’t leave me here
Paralyzed with fear
Find me again
Just count to 10

A walking corpse with a beating heart
Sends you her love with her smile
Though her beady eyes set her apart
She’ll still be around for a while

Go on as if she was not in the room
It’s difficult to look in her direction
Her expression blends into all the gloom
And her face holds a sickly complexion

But she’s doing the best that she can
And that’s all that should matter to us
She may not be toned she may not be tan
But we’ll help by not making a fuss

She tries her best to dance and sing
She attempts to make us all laugh
She doesn’t know what tomorrow brings
So she never lives life to only a half

There’s a place where ivy grows too thick
Spilling over wooden walls of white lattice
It stands on a platform of grey brick
Where fireflies wallow in a luminous status

In the night, the lights give off a hazy glow
It traps the sounds of laughter and lust
Where daytime fades and shadows grow
Where a lovely sigh becomes a windy gust

In the morning the leaves whisper secrets
And the flowers listen in with open ears
And the dirt stays moist and weedless
So the vines creep up from cloud’s tears

That beautiful hideaway we used to share
I’ll always remember what we had there
Now summer arrives and you hardly care
And you’ll never love me, you’ll never dare

But at least I still have my gazebo
It’s roomier without you

To send you love is to hope that the praying and the thinking and the fantasizing and the scheming and the wishing upon wish will finally end with a gesture from you.

To send you off is to say goodbye to the kisses and whispers and glances and laughter and crooked smiles that somehow seem to hurt worse than they heal.

To send for help is to cry out after all of the fake smiles and the pretend listening and the day to day charade and the useless chit chat that covers up all the emotions that are too intense to talk about over brunch.

To send assistance is to pick you up and carry you through the fighting and punching and sobbing and confusion even though I have no idea where I’m going either.

To send a signal is to let someone else know there’s another lonely person out there.

The other day was a lonely sigh
My tongue, caught, between your teeth
lips were chapped and mouths were dry
The first time that I was underneath

Of course it all meant nothing
It was not something that mattered
Never mind that I can’t help blushing
When you asked me I was only flattered

But days weeks and months more
My body yearns for your hands to explore
Just a look, we both know what’s in store
On the couch, on the bed, on the floor

Your touch is an addictive ******
Whisper again how my skin is like butter
Your sigh is passionately delicate
The lovely truth I keep below a mutter

But we are friends and will remain
Though we occasionally miss each other
I will always wait with such disdain
But commitment is not recovered

I’d rather remain an enigma to him.
It’s easier knowing he won’t know my grim
Starvation is not a polite conversation
Damnation is not but a plight confirmation

I’d rather remain an enigma to him.
Let my lip quiver as I try to be prim.
My eyelash vaporizes tears into smoke.
My lipstick a match for fires to stoke.

I’d rather remain an enigma to him.
Let his questions fill him up to the brim.
He would laugh if I told him cause of my pain
I want a connection free of disdain

I’d rather remain an enigma to him.
Not that I don’t think he’d handle the dim.
I just think it’s better to separate it all
After all, he’s the one who caused me to fall

So yes... I’d rather remain a tortured
Yet contained
Beautiful enigma

We spit in the mud and made clay,
And we molded ourselves as we saw us.
I saw our creation as the near future,
You only saw the past.
I saw our creation as my biggest desire,
You saw something you didn’t believe in.

One month later and I walk a dirt path,
And it reminds me of our clay.
I don’t sculpt much nowadays,
Maybe I was never meant to.
But along the path I spotted someone walking

I smiled, kept walking, and took a breath.

Breathing felt better once I knew it wasn’t clay; it was just mud.

Black umbrellas crowd and cover
crying family and broken lovers
they gather to mourn their dearly departed
they gather to finish what merely was started

"He was brave and he knew how to care"
"He listened to me, he was always there"
a gap between life and love and death
has stolen a bit of everyone's breath

Don't cry for him, he's doing well
everyone knows he is not in hell
But still the heartsick mourners cry
"Why God Why was it him and not I?"

My leg is a ****** to steel
But the craving is something too real
I’ll grip the blade in hand
So suffering will be my brand

The cold edge against my soft skin
Calls out to something dark within
The inexplicable need to cut
As my lip quivers and my eyes shut

My leg is no longer a ****** to steel
It stings but I truly get the appeal
Expressing the intensity
When heartstrings pull with tenacity

I wrap the wound in fabric lies
And fasten it with red stained ties
And no one will see the shame
Because they won’t know what to blame

I do my make up in the morning
I make a cup of coffee
I pack my bag and leave for school
Except it’s not the same

I jot down notes I won’t remember
I sometimes sleep in class
I walk down the hall and look for you
Except it’s not the same

I think about the other day
My heart skips a beat
I think about where we could go
Except it’s not the same

We talk about our favorite authors
We write new stories together
We watch TV and talk about our future
Except it’s not the same

Things were moving fast, you got scared
You can guess what happens next
I make up some excuse, get home early
But this time it’s all too familiar