I can’t
breathe.

If I do,
I’ll leak
and drown
in my pain.

I went through my pictures today
And I realized I used to be happy.
Something I haven’t been in a while.

The person I see in those photos
Is not the same person looking back through the mirror;
There’s a faint resemblance, nothing more.

I used to smile and laugh, always so joyful;
I still do, but it’s no longer genuine
No longer healthy.

People used to say my smile made their day
And all I could think was
It’s just a smile, how can it make such a difference?

I never understood what they meant
When they said the smile should be seen in the eye;
That there should be a glitter, a sparkle.

Now when I laugh, when I smile,
It’s polite, lacking reassurance
Missing the light heartened warmth

I went through my pictures today
And I realized I used to be happy.
I finally know what that glitter, that sparkle is.
.
.
.
It’s what’s missing from the mirror.

it's my birthday.
i cried last night of the thought that i really made it another year.
the rain seemed to push me down so hard and i can't believe i'm still here.
walking with my friend yesterday,
i looked at her,
just by looking at her,
i knew that i should be here.
in that moment,
i knew i wanted to stay.
it's birthday and i'm --,
another year of breathing,
another year of crying,
another year of smiling,
another year of feeling like i was nothing,
another year of loving,
another year of me.
i don't know how to feel this year about myself yet
but
i'm here and that's all that matters.

I feel your broken loneliness
in the sadness that I see
drifting past each moment
in your boat of memories
I sense a rooted worthlessness
someone said and you agreed
you search for love in places
impossible to find it seems
fear and doubt the harness
self hate their wild steed
a horse that is quite harmless
unless it feeds on insecurities
so let go and be blessed
include you in your empathy
in the hope of finding timelessness
self forgiveness holds the key

Pull the wires out from under my skin
I think I’m starting to rust again
My movements are stiff, my thoughts shedding red
I think I’m starting to rust again
Dunk me in Arctic waters,
Watch me d i s s o l v e
Pull the wires out from under my skin
I think I’d like to be a ghost girl again
I can live without hot blood
Seeking the warmth of my only love
Pull the wires out from under my skin
I might end up almost dead again.

Moments surround us
As we reach to them
Weaving and winding
Through and from us

Thread so thin
Through the hole of the needles
Their micro molecular gaps
Seemingly infinite
Over every inch of our body

When the writing is going well,
I am a prince in a desert palace,
fountains flowing in the garden.
I lean an elbow on a velvet pillow
and drink from a silver goblet,
poems like a banquet
spread before me on rugs
with rosettes the damask of blood.
                But exiled
from the palace, I wander --
crawling on burning sand,
thirsting on barren dunes,
believing a heartless mirage no less true
than palms and pools of the cool oasis.