In the end all you have is family,
And I don't want any of this
Because this family doesn't know how to be one
And it doesn't know how to love or resist

Biting comments and surpassing our
Elders in what they didn't know-
That somehow 20 years later,
This family tree will cease to grow.

Surely I'll have children,
If I can be what I should for them,
But even if I have a daughter or a son,
The tree will still cease to grow again.

The tree died from the chill of your cold remarks
And lack of root in this home.
The tree stood now chance when we branched out,
The tree lost it's leaves and stood alone,

Like myself,
Away from the blood ties and similarities.
Sure, we share a last name,
But we can't share our insecurities.

We can't share our concerns or woes
In fear of being belittled or demeaned.
We can't share a **** dinner at a table
With somehow being scathing and mean.

We can't share a laugh
Because we are too busy tiptoeing
Around in fear of stepping on a foundational crack
That'll never stop growing

Until we learn that family really is all you have,
And could be all you need.
Until then though,
Each of us will leave.

The house will grow colder,
And no lights can illuminate this dark
That grew between us all,
And set us all apart.

I wouldn't surprise me if
I leave and don't come home,
Because home isn't a place but a feeling,
And this is where I feel colder than stone .

Someday I may have kids,
And they'll ask about you all.
I fear all I'll have for them
Is a telephone call

Because grandma will be in the city,
And grandpa will have an apartment alone,
The uncles will be far gone,
And none of us will ever know our way back home.

I can't be my grandmother in that I fix people because I need repairs myself;
My own holes and tears can't be fixed by the hands of anyone else, nor can mine repair theirs.

I can't be my grandmother in that I need someone else to make me whole;
The holes I spoke of need not be filled by another,
Can't be filled by another because it won't fill me up no matter how much that person's love for me spills over.

I can't be my grandmother in that I fear abandonment;
I do not reside in the dark corners of "do not leave me" and "please stay".
Go, if you wish. Stay, if you please. I need not to will you either way, why should I anyway?

I can't be my grandmother in that I love any **** person who offers a sliver of their own,
Because slivers of the moon are almost too thin to see,
Slices of affection so thin I can't grasp
And thinness in love will thin out my own veins until I don't feel the blood pumping in the first place.

I can't be my grandmother in that I make the same mistake over and over again,
Try to love the unloveable and fix the damaged souls and talk on the phone to men who don't care at hours when I should be asleep and fear being alone and needing someone else so much I forget how to need myself.

Despite all of my "can't be's" though, it all sure as hell runs in the family.

I am the pendulum swing from life and death-

Some days I feel so alive I cry and the world is my playground, where I can see beyond the horizons and touch sunsets with my fingertips. I kiss at the stars and create constellations connectioning myself to the universe, each bright orb a reason why I'm thankful for the breath I am afforded.

Some days I am so far to death I look for life in the sheets of people I don't know, the empty bottles of clear spirits when mine is so dark, and anything that may light a spark in the dark cavity of my chest. I light lighters to substance when I am so lacking substance myself.

The pendulum swings so hard and so far, creating winds that I feel as chill on the days I swing to death, and a wind I welcome on days my soul shines so bright the days I feel the warmth.

I'd **** to have a softer swing but I'm killing over the fact that some days I'd **** myself and others I wonder how I could ever even feel that in the first place.

We should just kiss like real people do-*
It's fine if your lips are chapped from the cold ones before me,
And mine are a bit too tight from all the times I've tried to save face.
We might bump noses or hit teeth,
I might laugh and you might blush.
Maybe your hands might shake,
And maybe I'll be too nervous to keep your gaze.
There won't be fireworks or an orchestra to set the mood,
And that's all fine by me so long you just kiss me like real people do.

Seaside escapades
Up and down beaches,
High tide and sun rise-
Where my heart chose to stay.

Evergreens and dirt ground
Trekking trails, running down hills
Jumping off rocks into the lake-
This is where my happiness was found.

Pass time outside,
Where time ceases to exist
And all my worries fade away-
I continually wish this is where I woke, where I reside.

Candles only crumple into themselves and melt, then harden went they're burnt out;

I can see myself the same because you lit matches to me that ignited more than the wick,

More and more, burning into the night just trying to guide the way and keep you warm.

Morning comes, the sun rises too, and with light you don't need a candle to show the way.

Day in and day out, you put me aside. But when the night came about and darkness fell upon your mind, casting shadows upon your heart, you were quick to light a match to me just one more time.

Burnt, hardened and gone; the cold winds from your breathy, diluted and icy moments of speak blew me out one last time.

I understand you don't need me, but please don't reach for me in the dark or light a match to a wick you once knew because you're cold and lost and can't find your way to someone else.

You once took all the light inside of me away; doubtfully so, but if you haven't lost the ways I'd light up your life, I suggest that you get to it because though you haven't, the ways you darkened mine have yet to be forgot.

Your location on this globe
Ceases to keep you from pinpointing a spot my heart-
Even though you're far off elsewhere,
Your stake on the beating in my rib cage reinforces that we are never truly apart.