I think I've finally made up my mind, but I come to find I haven't.
You didn't even let me explain, maybe to prevent pain and reverting back to all that turmoil.
You filled my mouth with words you found true, things to convince yourself that you already knew the story.
I tried to say what I had on the tip of my tongue, using the breath from my lungs to speak up.
But you already had an idea of how everything was, and I didn't get to fully explain because of that.
You'd interrupt and tell me that I was wrong, that you knew all along that it wasn't you.
And from your point of view, I can see why you feel that you were a new, short term fling.

You were more than a rebound, more than another guy I'd found to make up for someone else's absence though.
You were more than second best, to that I wish I could attest and make you believe me though.
You were the most fun I'd had in awhile, always providing me with a smile and a sense of adventure that summer.

Soon after you left my life for a bit, with good reason, and I took that as a hit and left yours too.
Then you recently returned, and you're not the only one who yearned for the past.
But you won't believe me when I say that I still wanted you, that my feelings are prevalent and true and here and frankly won't go away.

We can blame circumstances or timing,  we can blame deceit and lying to ourselves and one another.
I'm still here, I still feel and though that's clear to me you don't see it.
Live with that facade and false reality, when in actuality that's furthest from the truth.

We can't so we won't begin again to pursue, I'll pretend what you "know" is true.
I'll let it be, you'll move on and see you're okay.
I'll watch you walk away, and whatever chances of us fade as well.
That's what is best, or so it seems; just leave it alone and let it rest until it's over.
Let it go, and deal with the fact that you'll never know.

It's the way you genuinely laugh at my minute misfortunes.
It's the way you dance to your odd music, carelessly.
It's the way you looked at me.
It's the way you dedicate yourself to a task to a point where nothing else exists.
It's the way you let me talk, talk some more, and keep talking until I'm done. No interruptions.
It's the way you were honest with me.
It's the way you were patient and persistent.
It's the way you impulsively decided we should go swimming.
It's the way you would lead, the way you would always go first.
It's the way you forgave me.
It's the way you tolerated who I am, and how you still do so.
It's the way you get really cranky at 2 am.
It's the way you get even crankier when I tell you things you don't want to hear.
It's the way you would listen with the intent to respond with something meaningful.
It's the way you would indulge my interests without complaints.
It's the way you continue to be my friend.
It's the way you say good bye.
It's the way your eyes don't have a definitive color.
It's the way you look when you first wake up. It makes me laugh.
It's the way you REALLY enjoy TV.
It's the way you love your family.
It's the way you dress and present yourself.
It's the way you listen to peculiar music.
It's the way you make long drives fun, and mildly dangerous.
It's the way you were sure that you liked me, no questions about it. You liked me and that was that.
It's the way you look in the rain.
It's the way you don't understand that I think the world of you.
It is the way you are, and I like that.

It's the way you laugh, the way your eyes light up and your lips part into a smile.

It's the way you randomly squeeze me tighter for just a second, whether it be my hand or my frame is a hug.

It's the way you tense up and exhale when my lips find your earlobe.

It's the way you look before you kiss me.

It's the way you trace circles along my skin in quiet moments.

It's the way you fall asleep next to me, spooning me from behind.

It's the way you wake up on the other side of the bed, with messy hair and quick arms to pull me back into you.

It's the way you focus on the television, even if my lips are all over you.

It's the way you randomly bring me chocolate, or when I had flowers on my doorstep when my best friend left.

It's the way you don't read what I write, because now I can make a gift out of it.

It's the way you leave me writing about you nearly every day regardless.

It's the way you're practical and level headed, though you can be silly and goofy too.

It the way you squirm when I lightly roll my fingers along your sides, across your abdomen.

It's the way you pin my hands above my head when you kiss me.

It's the way you kiss my neck, my chest, my hands and my lips. It's very much just the way you kiss me.

It's the way you told me you loved me when you were drunk.

It's the way you use your wits- I expect nothing less than a sarcastic or cryptic comment from you.

It's the way you're bright, you're naturally smart and inclined to succeed.

It's the way you involve me in your passions.

It's the way you don't involve me in our own plans- I usually don't know what's going on.

It's the way you keep busy, how well-rounded you are.

It's the way you leave me wanting more.

It's the way you show me you love me more than you tell me.

It's the way you listen to my stories, even if I'm telling you the story twice.

It's the way you make this easy- I don't have doubts, I don't have to question how you feel.

It's the way you let me move at my own pace, the way you were always so patient.

It's the way you gave me a second chance, and I can't thank you enough for it.

It's always been the way you say good night.

It's the way you are with me, and I love that.

I used to dance and perform on stages,
moving my feet to the music and the beat to entertain.

I quit and I miss it plenty,
though I haven't brought myself back to it yet.

In a way, I never stopped dancing
because I always wrote and that was my way of composing.

I hope to be brave enough one day
to sit behind a microphone and read my work to people,

to have my words leap into ears
and land softy upon hearts;

I hope my words waltz into imaginations
and ignite fire in veins.

I never stopped dancing in that
My fingers always danced across pages in ink.

I want long stares
Across rooms and halls
Sly, enticing glares
Those silent "come and get me" calls

I want cold feet
Tucked in between yours
My ear listening to your heart beat
Sleepy smiles and soft snores

I want to dance with no music
Sway however we please
Looking absolutely foolish
Yet be totally at ease

I want long good byes
Even longer hugs, you know
Exasperated, joking sighs
When you won't  let me go

I want to split the check
Hold your hand under the table
When no one's looking, a quick peck
Just because you're able

I want to go for walks
Steps in sync, hand in hand
We look at scenery, endlessly talk
Our conversations never becoming bland

I want to laugh
Nearly cry at your dumb puns
The way you make me smile is a craft
You seem to be the only one

I want to argue and fight
There's no avoiding this
I'm stubborn, I think I'm always right
Pushing your buttons, I can't resist

I want to show up unannounced
To say I'm sorry, to fix my wrongs
In hopes I'm not renounced
Because to you, my silly heart belongs

The hardest part is that I want you
All of you, every ounce of your being
All you can offer and be too
I wish you were agreeing

I wanted you
And you made it clear
That your heart wasn't true
My reality became my worst fears

So I want you to go
Leave my mind and my sights
You're no good for me, I know
Your leaving creates a spot for someone who's right.

I want a love so deep
That I lose sleep
Over the way you say my name;
You put those stars to shame

When your eyes ignite,
Come to be so bright
At the sound of your favorite song;
I could admire that all day long.

I want a love so vast
That it could endure, forever last
So long that you would just kiss me once more,
Because that's what lips are for.

I want a love so strong
That it couldn't go wrong;
A love so sturdy and true,
Enough to see everything through.

I want a love that's only yours,
That leaves me always wanting more-
I want a love that only you obtain,
I want a love like this to keep me sane.

I wished I was the sheets around your ankles,
The shirt on your back,
The jeans that hugged your hips.

I wished to be your morning tea,
The steering wheel you'd hold,
The knobs of your doors you would twist.

I wanted to be with you,
To have you touch me
And hold me,

So much that I envied this
Little, trivial objects;
I just wanted your presence in any way I could have it.

I learned that those little things
Sometimes go unappreciated,
Sometimes go unnoticed and unattended to.

I stopped wishing to be
All those things
When I understood that maybe that's how you saw me.

I write poems for boys who don't even respond to my texts.

I rip my heart in half for people who see a pathway and walk through like it was meant for them to tread and leave their footprints.

I open my mouth to pour out affection and you keep yours in a thin line that does not even budge when I tell you I just want to be with you.

I lose sleep over someone who rolls over the thought of me naked but not the thought of how I look when I'm contemplating or surprised or even belligerently, stupidly angry.

I put trust in you and you boomerang it back, dented and fraying while you tuck yours into your back pocket and save it for someone else.

I carve out time for someone who carves out time within the free time and spare seconds rather than simply making time in the first place.

I write poems about boys who can't even respond to my texts but read them anyway so I'll read my poems and you read my texts and one day maybe you'll wake up with a hollow feeling in your heart and it'll feel that way because by then I'll have stopped writing you, texting and trusting and yearning for your fingertips to trace my lips and your thoughts to coincide with mine and have you want to be inside my head so much it burns and maybe in between my sheets even more.

I wrote this for you because there were times I wish someone had written this for me-

Stop hating your reflection, stop hating the girl that is in your mirror. She is you, and you must love your fingertips to your eyelashes, your toes to your stomach all the way down to the edges of your soul and the depths of your heart.

Stop letting him be your world. Have you ever looked at a map? Have you even seen where the rivers go? Have you ever realized that you can get in the car and go? Don't tell me no, because it's true. Instead of following the rivers you let him create them and they flow down your face. Stop swimming in your tears, don't drown in his consuming love. Swim far away and resurface. Breathe in and out. Get out of the water and dry your tear soaked face off, and don't swim until you're ready again.

Stop letting your insecurities shape your mind. They're like needles injected into your body, leaving injuries and drops of blood while extracting your strength to put those thoughts to sleep. You have to learn to form your pretty little fingers into fists and start fighting off those nagging voices in your head that say you aren't good enough. Throw a punch, take a hit, get back up, wipe the sweat off your forehead and do it again. Battle until you come out bruised but on top, exhausted but a winner.

Stop letting him be your measure of worth. His attention and love will never, in your lifetime, fill the void where your own self love should be. He, nor any one guy, will ever fill your heart the way your own self love could. I promise you that loving yourself is so much more rewarding than someone else loving you. I promise I promise I promise.

Stop making excuses. Are you really happy or is that what you project? Is your smile real? Does he make you genuinely smile anymore? Are you falling asleep in his arms feeling alone? Are you?

Stop reading these words and start doing. I wrote this for you because I know he never would.

Karma decided I hadn't had
A sufficient taste of my own medicine,
So I downed the whole bottle,
And overdosed on my own faults.

Karma decided I hadn't carried
Enough weight in the situation,
So the blocks were stacked high,
Heavy on my shoulders and conscience.

Karma decided I never understood
Just how much my actions ruined others,
So the tables flipped and others did as I had,
And now I'm feeling the full force of those actions.

Karma decided I'd never drowned
In my own lies and deceit,
So she created a pool out of yours,
And threw me in the deep end when I didn't know how to swim.

Karma decided that I was oblivious
To everything you endured,
So she made sure I'd go down the same path,
Alone and angry and cursing myself for all of this.

Karma decided I was deserving
Of all of this,
And I agree.
Karma is a *****, and keeps those like herself in her company.

Keep your hands where I can see them-
Not at the small of my back where your fingertips could roll down my spine and ignite the open fuses in my heart.

Keep your words in your throat-
Swallow them down the same way I swallowed the lump in my throat when I realized I was a trophy on your shelf, a prize that collected dust.

Keep your heart within your ribcage-
Don't offer it out in slivers of affection, in segmented allocations of desire and lust. Keep your ******* heart contained if you can't even keep it whole.

Keep to yourself, it's all I really ask-
I used to ask the opposite of you, though I came to see that you had a padlock on your heart I couldn't figure the combination to.

Please keep far away from me; don't check in and don't text, don't call and don't bother because I can't answer calls from the past nor can I keep my heart to myself when you can't keep to yourself.

I'm out here on a limb
D
A
  N
   G
     L
      I
      N
       G
Like a leaf on a tree in late autumn, yellow and spotted and dry, close to falling into the breeze that'll carry me away, far away from my home to the ground where I'll lay until the wind picks me back up only to place me somewhere new and foreign and unknown effortlessly.

I am out here on a limb.
You've already flown away and I see how you go with the wind and you flow with ease and it's all so simple for you; you let your troubles, and therefore yourself, "go with the flow" and now you're floating away into the horizon where people go once they've let go of the barriers and ties holding them back.

I am out here on a limb.
I'd like to follow and float and be free and land wherever the wind takes me, just like you bravely did. You let go and I haven't let go of my limb or you, though the wind is relentless so maybe it'll tear me away without my consent but right now you're floating away and I want to allow the wind to take me too but the uncertainty of whether we'll land somewhere close by is too immense to fathom, so I'll hold onto the limb and watch you float away and know that it's probably for the best that you're floating away
                                           from me.

Turns out I was your limb all along.
Watching you bud last spring, grow and form before my eyes in the summer, begin to wither by fall and float away in the icy-cold, biting winds of winter because I sent you there without knowing I even did so.

You went out on a limb.
You grew and us died and you left and I can't follow you this time because you're finally free and I can't hold onto you forever, not when the winds turn to warm breezes and you finally feel at ease floating away from me. The seasons came, we changed, you left, and I became a leaf on a tree refusing to leave because even if I did leave my own limb of comfort, the wind would keep us apart and it's for the better.

You were on a limb.
And now that you're floating away I can fully see just how lovely and peaceful you are,
because you are without
                                         me.

October 9th, 2011

Next time you want to talk crap about her, bite your tongue and think- "What is this doing for me or her?" If you don't have anything nice to say, no matter how much you want to chime in or make a joke, simply don't. Calling names, gossiping and assumptions will only hinder how you see someone for who he or she truly is. Once words leave your mouth, they're gone. You can't scoop them up and hide them. Be the girl who is kind to everyone- a hard, but not impossible, feat. Kindness stretches miles and is remembered. Be considerate and pick your words carefully. Make people feel good about who they are. Brining the best out of them will bring the best out of you.

Love,
Megan

To empathize and sympathize
Rather than criticize and publicize
Issues that cause fissures in his foundations
Keeping him upright and safe from tribulations
Is so much more rare.

To listen and disengage
From all else but whoever is speaking so he has the stage
Will help release him from the cage
Of hopelessness, loneliness, and ridicule;
Doing so shows you care.

To comfort and support and love
Will demolish all fears and rise above
What bogs him down so far into his heart and mind
That he feels he is lost, he can't find
His breath, choked by a lack of air.

To provide and subside
All of your own problems, to let them slide
Even if momentarily, for another human being;
In doing so, you are growing, learning and seeing
That love and compassion were meant to share.

We are not talking,
So I made a list of all
The things I wanted

To say to you, and
It's quite long but I'll sum it
Up with "I miss you".

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.

Losing people can
Be like losing a blindfold;
Once they're gone, you can see.

Losing people will
Cleanse your eyes,
But furthermore, cleanse your sight.

Losing people sometimes
Allows you to see
That you lost yourself in finding them.

Losing people sometimes
Means you can find someone better;
I hope you find yourself.

Love is not a thing you can do half way;

Love is not meant for quick hugs to say goodbye,
Momentary kisses that leave you wondering if they even happened.

Love is not meant for people who will hold your hand
Loosely enough that it could slip away.

Love is not meant for routines and order,
For ease and expected encounters.

Love is not meant for ******* one night
And not speaking the next.

It is not meant for anyone who decides that
A kiss doesn't mean anything,

That a lingering look has no power,
That skin on skin is just a physical encounter.

No.

Love is holding someone's hand tightly,
As if it were a balloon on a string that's

Tied to your heart, and God forbid
You let that one slip away.

Love is for the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th goodbye kiss
In the street as you leave your lover's house.

It's for the 5th kiss that leaves you as breathless as the first,
For the last kiss that was the longest and hardest.

Love is for spontaneity,
For random reminders that you care.

Love is for someone who will love you in between sheets,
Then kiss you the next day despite your morning breath.

Love is the shout into the void,
Into the canyons of people

Where the only response you may have
Is the echo of your own love.

That's love, shouting about it
Even though you may be the only one to hear it.

Love is for people willing to shout it from rooftops,
For people willing to dive in head first.

Love isn't meant to be half assed.
It just isn't.

Love requires all of your courage and strength,
Your patience and understanding.

Love requires that you shed your shell of comfort,
And give it your all.

That's how I love,
All in and wholly invested, completely committed.

And I don't have time any love that isn't aching,
Consuming and invasive of my every thought.

I don't have room in my heart for anything less than extraordinary,
Because my heart is full to the brim of love for someone out there,

And I don't want it just to spill over so that
I can listen to it drip onto a cement floor.

It should pool into your hands instead,
And you can pour it into your own heart.

Love is for the brave and willing-
I'm brave and willing enough to show you,

Are you?

I can be your better half,
You can be my main squeeze.
We can keep this light hearted
And go with the salty breeze

That blows along the oceanside;
We'll flow like the waves flow free-
Come be my main man,
Come be my one and only.

I'll be your balancing act,
You'll be my rationality,
So long that it includes you-
Together is how we should be.

We can stay in or go out,
We can go anywhere actually,
So long that you're coming along,
Promise you'll be right next to me.

Come be my main man,
I'll be your main squeeze.
You're the perfect fit, you see-
We fit together with such ease.

Come and stay awhile,
There's no rush to leave.
We look so good together,
To this I believe.

There are so many times I want to tell you I'm sorry for taking so long to find you.

There are so many different reasons why I meandered down all the wrong routes in a long maze that somehow led to you.

There are so many different ways I've written about you, so many different ways I've yet to make you pen to paper, ink upon lines.

There are so many different things running trough my mind when you slowly lean in to kiss me-

Like if I had known how you kiss, maybe I'd have found you sooner,

Or if I had known you were so understanding, I wouldn't have put that to the test,

Or even if I'd known someday I wouldn't have every day to be with you,

Maybe I would have found you sooner.

But I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere until I have to.

I know this will end. We have an expiration date, a "Best Used By" stamp, a date set for when we have to say good by but that's okay.

Because I'm here now.

And I know my youth is a factor, the idea that we can't get too attached because of age and circumstance but I like you, and for so many different reasons.

There are so many different reasons why I'm happy to look at you and know you're mine,

Even if it's just for now.

I heard somewhere that beautiful things never last,

And that's why fireflies flash-

It must be the sparkle in your eyes when you laugh,

Or the way your smile lights up your face.

Those things don't last forever either,

But I might remember them for that long because there were so many times I didn't get to tell you these things.

There were so many times I wanted to cup your face in my hands and kiss you.

So I am sorry it took me so long to be here, to be within your grasp-

But I'm here now.

We are just a flash in the grand scheme of things,

But I think we're one hell of a flash regardless-

Like fireworks illuminating the night sky,

Like the North star shining more than any other, guiding people home.

If I would have known you would be a light in my life,

Maybe I would have found you sooner.

Maybe if I had your address,
Or knew what you liked,
I'd send you little things
To let you know it will be alright.

Maybe if we were closer,
Maybe if we had talked more,
I'll drive on over,
And knock on your door.

Maybe if I could,
Maybe if I had,
I'd find any way
To ensure you weren't so sad.

Maybe if I knew what happened,
Maybe if I knew why,
I'd search around until
I found a reason for your rhyme.

Maybe someone does this for you already-
I sure hope that's true.
I sure hope your chin stays up,
Long enough to make it through.

And maybe you're treading a path alone,
With only your demons in tow;
They'll disappear someday,
And in your heart, flowers will grow-

Up through your spine,
Finding a path to your mind
The flowers can spread their beauty
In all the cracks they find.

I hope flowers burst out of your soul,
And someday shine through your eyes,
Because sadness comes and goes my dear,
So please don't let your cries

Be what waters your flowers.
Rather, instead,
Water them with faith in overcoming,
With all of the words I have said.

Water them with your quirks,
Your ambitions, your smile-
Let the flowers take over your body;
I promise it's worth your while.

Someday you'll be a garden,
Colorful and healthy, happy and bright-
You'll be a representation of growth,
My dear, you'll be one hell of a sight.

So maybe if you read this,
Always remember, always know
That flowers grow upon whoever
Kindly reaps what they sow.

I don't think stating that you make me melt would suffice, even if entirely clichè-

It's the icecream cone in the hand of a child during summer,
Melting away.

That's what you do to my soul when you first wake up and smile with your mouth closed,

And your first breath is dedicated to saying good morning to just me.

Bottle it up, dip my pen into it, and write you out pages and pages about the ways you make me melt-

It could be the way your skin warms against mine on cold nights,

The way your eyes ignite over the curves of my mind, the curves of my hips.

It could be the way your lips light fire to my spine when they embrace my own,

Or even when they whisper silly nothings into my ears.

Yes, I do melt at the sight of you thinking silently, within solely your own head.

I melt when you sing off key and drunkenly dance off beat.

I melt when you linger in the doorway and push your hair back the way I would right after you style it, simple to get a rise out of you.

I melt at the way your mind revolves around the finer things and not the ticking of a clock; you haven't time for keeping time, only time for what's important.

I melt when you laugh and when you smile, when you find me desirable even at my worst and when you close your eyes as you fall asleep.

I dip my pen into the ways you make me melt and write it all out for you to see

In hopes that maybe it'll have the same effect that you've had on me.

Even if my memory is romanticized by time,
And the exact details fade like old photographs,
Know I hold the time we had close to heart and never far from mind
Because there was a time I lived within your proximity,
Alongside your being.
And even if you left scars instead of stars in my sky
I still look back in awe like I do upon a moonless night;
A billion of stars for the memories I maintain,
A sky as vast as what is to come.
The times I feel lost are the times I look up
To the stars of my past
In hopes that they might be able to guide me home.
I won't always be a light in life
And I won't always be a time well spent,
But I hope you look back and see me in a constellation
Connecting the pieces together into the bigger picture.
Life is not meant to be lived in the past,
Nor is it solely meant for looking at the stars.
Imagine all the times you have taken the time to do so though,
And how alive and thankful you probably felt.
Looking back at the past is the same in that
I'll always look back and remember you for who you were, no matter where you now are.

You can run away from bullies,
Go home after school and rest assured you're safe
From whatever torment they may bring,
Whatver distress they inflict upon you.

You can turn on the lights when it's dark,
Illuminate rooms so you can reaffirm
That your closet doesn't have a murderer in it,
Or that dust is the only thing residing under your bed.

You can run inside when it begins to rain,
Cuddle up in bed with tea and listen to the thunder
As a storm rolls through your neighborhood.
You're safe and sound under your comforter.

You can close your eyes in scary movies,
Plug your ears, hide behind a friend.
You can say "It's all fiction, it's not real."
Because that's true. Movies aren't, no matter how convincing.

You can avoid circuses
If clowns do not delight you.
You can abstain from seeing their big red shoes and noses
As long as you do not attend a circus.  

You can defeat most frightening things within your life; Don't acknowledge them, abstain from encountering them, conquer them, reduce them to nothing.

The most frightening thing in my life is myself, and I cannot simply go home, turn on a light, or avoid a circus.

It is always me, myself and I cannot simply pretend I am comfortable with always being in the presence of my biggest fear.

Come around midnight,
When the moon light is all you have to guide you
Around my want when it's at it's absolute height-

When I most want to be entangled in legs and hair
And arms and your soft-spoken words- like birds, they flew
As whispers into the night air.

Come around and lay beside my slowly closing eyes,
Settle into my frame and stay awhile, see the sky blue
As we wait for the sun to illuminate the sleepy skies.

Look at me like you look at the moon-
With wide eyes and awe
That erase woes and gloom.

Look up and find me in the sky,
Look at me despite all others
Shining up on the black canvas, up so high.

I don't need you to only see
The moon on the star-shining nights
When the stars be all they can be.

I just need you to feel for me
The way you feel when you look at the moon-

Feel wonder and ease,
Feel me as you please.

Feel a sense of home and safety,
Feel vast and even maybe

Feel small but feel humbled,
Feel like you have stumbled

Upon a beauty that has been seen before,
But one that you'll choose to forever adore.

I am not a North Star
To guide you home,

Though I can be your moon,
And I'll be wherever you choose to roam.

I'll waver between waning and full,
Between fully there and shadowed away.

Though even when it seems I am gone,
I promise to never stray

Too far from sight,
Nor too far from mind.

Look at me like you look at the moon-
Like your search is over, and you've found what you wanted to find.

I meant it when I said you'd break my heart.
It's already chipping and fraying.
How could it not when you know it's already so?
How could it not when the fray began to unravel before you even tied the last knot?

I meant it when I said I've outgrown home.
My bed feels small, the stars don't shine like they do
Far away from here,
Where no one knows my name.

And I can't help but think that ending us is only
The beginning of me.
It's the start of cutting my ties to anything
Serious and real here.

I promise cutting you loose isn't going to hurt
More than a pin *****.
I am not the one to rip your heart out;
I'll just bruise it slightly.

How could we get started when the end was in sight?
Why did we think it wouldn't hurt?
Why does my bed feel small?
Why do the stars not shine?

You're all I have left here.
I'm done looking for someone to kiss me beneath the stars.
I'm done wanting someone to love me so badly it hurts.
It hurts knowing you won't.

You're all that's really keeping me around.
I'd be gone tomorrow if I could.
I'd slip out my back door
And sleep on the plane as I fly away.

Why does my bed feel small?
Why does my heart yearn for cities?
I realized a guy would never make me feel infinite,
But letting myself go out on my own would.

I used to believe love would fill me up,
That it would pour over my edges onto the floor.
I used to think a commitment and lips on mine
Would somehow make me forget what freedom tastes like.

Freedom tastes nothing like your lips.
It feels like cold city air coming out of them.
It tastes like blood in my mouth
Because I had a sample of freedom and now I want more.

I'm here for now;
This is my home.
But you cant fill me up the way freedom would.
You can't be that for me.

Home is where my heart is.
It is not with you.
I forgot it in a city where no one knows my name.
I forgot it when I realized I didn't need you to say my name anymore

My bed feels small.
Your lips don't taste like freedom.
The stars don't shine as much
Because I'm ready to give them a run for their money.

how is it that i nurtured my heart and made it so,
cohabitated with it and let it grow,
yet even if i needed it and it needed me,
my ribcage was a cage and my heart just wanted to be free

among the wildflowers and fresh air,
along the skylines without a care,
amidst the sea and between the stars,
why is it that my heart and body feel so far

my heart can't stay in this cage for long
because it can't continue to sing the same song-
my heart outgrew it's home and flew away,
my heart was never meant to stay

my heart was never mine nor will never be,
only this i am sure of you see-
my heart can't rest easy in this ribcage home,
because here it feels so alone

it belongs among the trees and sea,
it belongs among the world in front of me.
my heart never belonged to the structure of my bones-
for here it felt heavy as stone

my heart is wild and angsty and true-
it feeds off of sunlight and new views.
my heart stopped beating because of rushing blood,
but beat only at the sight of a rising sun

It is really inspiring and noteworthy when you choose to channel your pain into athleticism, art, music, etc. rather than letting it get the best of you.

It is making the best of the worst, a way of defying pain and not allowing it to keep you down for too long.

I think it is a beautiful way of dealing with pain; letting it effect you to an extent but not take control. You allow pain to move you, inspire your work, and make something beautiful out of it.

It's like taking an old house and fixing it back up, good as new. That is what we do with our hearts. We feel pain, we find an outlet; after, our hearts are as good as new, possibly wiser and smarter too.

So run 10 miles, work long days, write poetry, sketch til your fingers ache, sing until you feel the pain seep out of you and into your work. Once it is in your work, it is gone from you and you're free. Your pain is now gone and something beautiful, and that is really something amazing.

I never thought the hyphen in my last name would indicate divorce,

A severing of my 50/50 blood ties to each of my parents by one tiny horizontal line in between two names.

I never thought that my father Samuel, a biblical name, could not muster even the strength of God to save a marriage,

Nor did I cross my mind that finding myself on my knees meant I was back to a church and a God, somehow shouting to the man that knows love best about how I wanted a love to be saved and it wasn't even my own.

Or that at age 19, the dwindling and sliver-like love of my parents would hurt as much as it does because I've seen fires die out and walls crumble; this doesn't look too different if you ask me.

Samuel, my father-
A man that is not of the father above,
Please solely summon his strength to save the love you are dangling by a thread to a life that if tugged at too hard, could unravel in your cold hands. Your one dream to have a family is going to crumble if you don't rightly love the woman that gave you one in the first place.

And to my mother-
Broken, tired and blue,
Give him the patience your God taught you to have just one more time. Give him the chance to change because I've seen the rain turn to sun and weariness turn to dust when you realize what is at stake. The small steps become the journey and if you only look at how far you have to go, you'll never make it.

I know 20 plus years grows tiresome on the heart and ******* the mind, but when I turn 20 I don't want to have to decide who I will celebrate with, or ask if you two are seeing anyone new. I don't want to see mom in the city and dad alone. I don't want to see my house divided up and I don't want to lose my home.

I know you both came from broke families that bruised your hearts in ways I can't fathom, and have seen the ins and outs of separate homes and step siblings and changes that come too often. I know you two stuck your last names together as a promise to stick together so that my brothers and I didn't have to know two home phone numbers, two addresses and two house keys.

When I was 7 the teacher asked if you two were divorced, and my toothy smile told her no.

I want the toothy smile of my own children to, when questioned about the endurance of love, say no to the notion that it can die out

Because grandma and grandpa were together until they had to go home to the man above.

This isn't about my father's faith or my mother's dwindling faith in him;

This is about how I went back to a God because I'm praying that my parents can find a way to let love back in.

Since when were collar bones and flat stomachs and coy smiles and clear skin and *** appeal and thigh gaps more appealing than trust and consideration and effort and love and patience and forgiveness and appreciation?

Fall for traits within a person rather than traits you can see. Fall for what can be demonstrated rather than what constitutes to a person's outward appearance. You can be beautiful, or you can demonstrate why you're beautiful. I believe whole heartedly that inner beauty can come through and shine just as bright, but outward beauty cannot penetrate your soul and make it so.

My voice is no mere peep,
No mere iridescent sound overpowered
By the roar of people
Telling me to shut up.

My voice is not a purr or a chirp,
It is not dainty and subtle.
It is not soft or lofty or supple,
It's not like a fuzzy blanket in the middle of winter.

My voice is a brick hitting cement,
It's a siren's wail throughout a quite city,
It's a firetruck screaming as it rolls through
The city to meet it's destination.

My voice is a jet plane taking off,
My voice is an engine starting up,
My voice is a roar like that of a lions-
My voice will echo through your ears down to your core.

My voice is there for a reason;
To be heard,
And by God you'll hear me loud and clear.
You'll hear me over anything you put in my way.

My voice will topple buildings of ignoring,
It will burn down barriers of indifference,
It will destroy blocks of ignorance,
It will be heard, clear and true at whatever the cost may be.

My voice is my own,
Strong and loud, at times to a fault.
I am lucky enough to be able to speak,
And I'm not one to deny myself the pleasure of speaking my **** mind.

It's beyond me why you'd run past open arms into the ones that dropped you in the first place,
And why you'd find home in a place that tore yours up from the group like a natural disaster.

Nature has a way of making things work,
Ever wonder why that's why you two don't?

And it's a **** disaster to hold your frame like a scared child-
Shaking and sobbing because things didn't go your way.

Please just go your own way,
You're the child who outgrew home and the overcoat she gave you.

Maybe if you let her go,
You'd stop feeling so heavy and fearful of chill.

Maybe if you took your coat off,
You'd feel the sunshine in ways not even her softest touch could rival.

Don't walk back into the eye of the storm.
Walk your way back home,

Where the arms aren't heavy
And the arms don't make you feel so alone.

I want my love to be thread,
And my intent to be a needle
To sew your broken parts up,
To make you whole again.

I want my words to be tape
To your ripped up hope.
I want my embrace to be your staple,
Reconstructing your being.

I want to find all of the pieces
You hid away in the back of your heart,
The dusty pieces in the corners of your soul,
And fit them together to make you whole.

I'd wrap you up with all my love,
All my effort and strength if it meant
That you would be all there,
If it meant you'd be okay.

I want to be all of these things,
But I am actually the stray string on your sweater
That you tugged at, and it left you unraveled,
Naked and bare and cold and open and raw.

I want my love to be a thread,
And my intent to be a needle.
I actually tied you up,
And pierced your heart in the end.

When your heart is broken and on the floor,
Don't forget.
I will be there to pick it up, no matter how many times I have to.

Life has those little bumps that seem impossible to get over.
They will start as mountains, and end as grains of sand,
Because I'm going to be there to make the best of it.

When your smile is upside down,
Never forget.
I will be there to turn it right side up, no matter how much you fuss.

When you can't talk to anyone and life seems hopeless,
I swear to you I will be there with open arms and ears,
No matter how long it will take.

When you're regretting something that changed you in big ways, just know
I'm here to tell you that everything will be okay,
And that the sun will come out, no matter how down you are.

When you're not sure where to step next,
Don't look anywhere but right by your side
Because I will be there guiding you no matter how many times we stumble.

When the fun gets out of hand and your future is looking dim,
Please don't sink to the ground.
But if you do, I will be there holding you up. You remember that.

When you can sit out or dance,
All I can hope is that you dance.

Never forget how special you are,
And how different life would be if you weren't here.

When your faith is running low, please just come to me.
I will be here waiting to restore what was lost.
Life isn't fair, and that is why you have me.

I've decided that I will take a shot at 12 am on New Years, though I wouldn't mind your lips and tongue as a chaser after.

Let's hole up in the house
The next time it pours for hours outside,
Make some tea
And sit by the fire.

Let's grab blankets and pillows,
And lounge around for hours-
Long enought to tell each other
Everything worth mentioning about ourselves.

I'll tell you about the scar on my knee,
And how my best friend from the 3rd grade
Has one to match from the time
We did cartwheels in the streets.

You'll tell me about the time you
First climbed that tree in your neighborhood
By yourself, then with friends,
And how you loved to read up there.

I'll remind you of the time we
Fell asleep side by side,
And you'll remind me of the time
We kissed in a parking lot.

And it can go on like that,
Just us retelling our stories,
The stories from before we met,
And how we'll create new stories together.

Nightmares sometimes become reality,
A walking, living experience you didn't think
Was real, tangible, possible,
Until your fears come true.

Nightmares aren't subject to night,
When all is dark and shadowed;
Sometimes nightmares are set in broad daylight,
Where you can see it all unfold.

Nightmares aren't so cliché,
Where clowns chase you,
You end up naked in public,
Or you're free falling from a cliff.

No, nightmares are becoming
Your worst version of yourself
And imposing that upon others,
And realizing you made their reality a nightmare too.

Nightmares are becoming what used to
Grapple at your feet,
What would pull you down,
And keep you from standing back up.

Nightmares are when the things that hurt you
End up becoming familiar enough that
You hurt other people the same way,
And you're now apart of a cycle.

Nightmares are when you lead
Someone else into your own,
Long enough that you become the nightmare
Rather than just enduring one.

Old ballet shoes,
Yearbooks with letters wedged into the cracks promising friendship until the end of time.

The yearbook signatures that promised to call or catch up,
and the signatures that actually should have ended with "good bye".

Children's books and children's clothing,
Tiny t-shirts and itty bitty shorts.

Ticket stubs and concert tickets,
ID cards and senior portraits.

Long lost poetry and crinkled letters
To boys I thought I'd love beyond the time I did.

Photographs of us in our youth
And some of us apart, outgrowing each other.

Homework from freshman year,
Art projects I thought deserved life beyond the magnets on the kitchen fridge.

Baby blankets and old rosaries
for when I thought Jesus could keep my faith in all that's good.

Books I haven't read in years
that still make me smile when I roll my fingers down the spine.

My grandpa's memorial announcement
and his old fishing hat.

The CD's we used to make dances to,
and perform for ourselves in my old costumes.

Friendship bracelets from girl's names I can't remember,
and friendships I lost
Numerous diaries with long entries about being older,
and how someday older will be better,

How age will bring me adventure, maturity, love, resolution, clarity, a sense of myself, happiness.
Here I am with more age, and these endless memories make me wish for the time when I could still fit into the little shorts and stick my tongue out in pictures.

The someday I wrote of is today
and I'm teary-eyed over what used to be.

I'm missing the old you and the old memories,
the old friends and the old ways of happiness.

I'm here, older now,
and I wish I knew if older was better.

I feel like you're my baby blanket or the socks from when I was 3,
The children's book I loved when I was 6 or the jump rope from when I was 10.

You're the diary from middle school and the pressed flowers from bike rides through fields when I was 13,

You're the photo booth strips from the movie dates and all the wallets of my friends from senior year;

I always look back on you with a fondness and a melancholy, a nostalgia with heart and ache-

I want to go back but I know that time is gone and over, and it's for the best. I want to go back but I know it doesn't exist anymore, like us. I miss you but I know that I'm here now and you're there now so I keep going but like the flowers and socks and wallets, I'll always have a nostalgia, just for you.

This is the time to find ourselves,
To stay up too late on the phone but wake up early to still watch the sunrise.
This is the time to be stupid and ignorant so we can learn.
This is our time to grow from childish mistakes and moments of self doubt.
This is inevitably the time to realize that the rest of our lives lay ahead of us and there are endless possibilities.
Now is the time for kissing the wrong people and crying about it later.
Now is the time for road trips and long conversations to take up the time.
It is time to jump off the cliffs and make your heart race so fast you can hear it.
Now is the time to be free and young and open and wide-eyed.
Now is the time to explore yourself and your beautiful world around you.
It is time. We only have so much of it. You don't need another person occupying yours, I promise. You need your own self admiration and love, your own sense of exploration and curiosity.
You may find someone and that's beautiful.
Loving someone is a beautiful thing, but remember that loving yourself comes first.
Remember that people come and go. Accept it.
You have to let them go as do they with you. It will always hurt. You may want to crawl back.
Hesitate. Make sure you know what you need, not what you simply want.
Make sure you understand that the time is always now, and you need yourself to utilize it.
You need you. Be there for yourself. Be your own best friend. Be your own role model. Be all you can be.
When should you start all this?
Now.

You were a breeze and I was the ocean,
And though you made me stir,
Sometimes you were so light I forgot you were there.

I'm sorry I thrashed around and made a scene.
I'm sorry I'm ambivalent and uncontrollable.
I'm sorry I'm invasive and encompassing.

Sometimes you'd get my waves to flow
To your draft.
It's too bad you can't ensure that will always be the case.

That's the thing with nature and us;
Whatever is natural just happens.
Is that why we aren't?

The ocean just is,
And the breeze just is.
I can't tell you how much it hurts that you don't blow along my shores,

Or that you'll probably leave me thrashing,
Stormy and blue after all of this.
I can't explain how it feels like the ocean is in my eyes.

You can see and feel an ocean
And you can only feel the breeze;
We continually differ and that's why I'll leave.

So you'll continue on as a breeze;
You make pick up wind and rustle leaves,
But someday you'll calm down and become light again.

It scares me that I'll still be able to feel gusts of you,
But I won't be able to ever fully grasp you.
This is why it is within my nature to not love what I cannot touch.

I have a particular interet in old flames,
Maybe because their embers never fully died in my heart.

So when the wind rolls by, and breathes life into
These possible long gone embers,

They light back up, in the back of my mind
Where the glow is too tempting

To ignore, so I sit down and bask in the emitting
Heat from long gone flames just to

See what they had that lit me up
In the first place.

Old flames remain in my memories until
Something stirs my heart, long enough

To sustain a tiny spark that
Reminds me why we caught fire so long ago.

So when you pass by me on the street,
And I look the other way,

It's because I have no need for your embers,
There's no need for them to stay.

I doubt you even put a match to
The thought of me anyway,

So I'll let your embers rest until charred and black,
Just so that they never return, so they never come back.

Pack up your things,
Pack up your dreams,
Pack up your courage,
We're ready to leave.

We are ready to leave the comfort
Of our homes and routines;
We are ready to leave behind
All that steals our time, fleeing the feinds.

We are ready to explore
And walk out on our own
Into the great world,
To places unknown.

We are ready to only leave
Our foot prints where we walked,
We are ready to only carry memories
Of those with whom we have talked.

New places, new experiences;
That's all we crave
New voices, new faces;
To leave behind the familiar ones mean you have to be brave.

Pack up your bags,
Leave behind your doubts.
Embrace the unknown with open arms,
Walk with confidence and curiosity down your new route.

Pack up your life.
Store it under your bed, leave it behind,
Because once you get out in the world,
You'll realize there is so much more to find.

Put on the show,
Paint the mask and wear it with pride,
As if hiding reality was something to boast.

**** in, zip it all tight
The same way you do your lips
When you'd rather unravel and cry.

Paint the smile,
Stamp it across your face-
Make believe for everyone else.

Put on the façade,
The one that fools the masses.
Yet I know to look beyond your face-

Your eyes are sea storm blue
And sting with tears
Because you let them fill for so long,

And you shut up about your problems
And your insecurities
And your fears

Because the fear of honesty
And reality and being geuine
Kept you from the ultimate release.

Paint on your mask,
Don't let your true face show
For the world to see.

God forbid they know,
God forbid you tell the truth,
God forbid you admit you're unhappy.

Petals fall, hues fade-
Dig a little deeper when looking for companionship
Because roots are where our truths lay.

It's like age and the shorts from two summers ago,
The missed calls that are weeks old.
It's the pens I dropped behind my desk and all of the socks that never found their match.
It's the photos that I accidentally deleted and the fleeting moments I didn't make time to write about.
It's all transitory and fleeing,
Rushing by just like a breeze.
My life and the people are blurring together so quickly now that not even with glasses am I able to see
Who is there, what is staying and what will go.
I'm phasing through without stopping to hold a hand or smell the roses before
They're old and overgrown.

It's a **** shame
I put you in my picture frames
Next to my bed
Where, every night, I lay my head.

It's utter irony
That you would lie to me
Every time you said
We would always be friends.

It's really painful
That we became so dull,
So distant in mind and heart.
We're torn apart.

It's rather sad
That all of the times we had
Dissipated, flew off far away,
Leaving us with no words to say.

It's crashing down upon me like waves on the shore
That what we used to be is no more,
That fears became reality and you changed.
So I'll take you out of my picture frames.