We were young and dumb and learning to grow up in a world that wanted us to stay young
We kissed under the stars at the lake with our shoes thrown down the hill
Our hands intertwined as we experienced what a french kiss was--
messy, sloppy, and full of my long hair
you would call it weird

We thought we were older than we really were
annoyed that the adults couldn't see that we weren't children even though we still were
We complained about rules and your step-siblings being sent to watch us
We would sneak out of the house at night where we would dance to no music in the streets
and would lay on the trampoline trying to figure out exactly what first, second, and third base were
We didn't really know anything even though you played baseball

We were freshmen in college
miles apart and set up by my best friend
I resisted initially but our connection was instant and I finally realized this is what love was
not awkward kissing that never felt right
not experimental touching
it was true and funny and it didn't judge or get upset if my weird long hair got in the way of a kiss
It was losing my virginity and staying in your arms all night
It was you.
It still is you even these years later
I'm sorry it took a while before I could get to you

I was born into this world with my umbilical cord wrapped around my neck
the ***** which gave me life already trying to take it from me
My first noose was this one
and maybe then my parents should have laughed at the future symbolism as death has chased me ever since
He replaced my umbilical cord with his hands many times
but each time I wake up
panting
sweating
screaming
crying
surviving just like I did before I even knew what the outside world was
I will take this as a sign, then
that I should be here
that I am meant to be here

I was three years old standing barefoot on the screened in porch in the summer heat
you had a beer in your hand with condensation wetting your skin
I asked and you answered
My first sip of alcohol fascinated my three year old self
Bubbles

I was six and wearing a white dress walking next to a boy in a suit down a church aisle
Eyes fixated on the moment I would grow in my faith
First communion came with excitement to me
I tasted church wine for the first time
Genisis

I was twelve and at Christmas dinner with extended family
table set makeshift bar locked eyes with mine
You poured me a glass of red
a special occasion you said
Acceptance

I was fourteen then fifteen then sixteen
Every week a glass of wine with dinner
A beer in the summer
it complemented the steak
You taught me to drink at home to know my limits
To protect me from going crazy when I left home
Normality

I was eighteen and a two-time college dropout
The wine on the counter and a constant supply of liquor comforting
A stressful day ended with a numbing to my feelings
A glass away from silence in my head
and an easy night of sleep from being mixed with my medications
Routine

I was twenty when I realized a drink would turn into a few
and a few would turn into asleep on the floor
or vomiting and sitting in the shower for hours
I was twenty when I realized it took more to get me tipsy than it used to
that I needed to drink and when I did I wouldn't stop
because what was the point unless you were drunk
I was twenty when I started to jokingly call myself an alcholic
I was twenty when my friends dropped the joking part
I was twenty and tipsy and unable to legally drink and I had already become what everyone else in my family denied being

I blame you
the three year old with a fascination of forbidden things
the six year old who had an intrigue in the taste of communion wine
the twelve year old who accepted the drink from her grandfather's ***** breath every holiday dinner
the teenager who let herself drink at home in the presence of her parents who thought it would help prevent the inevitable
the eighteen year old who learned the hard way life was a much crueler teacher than school and accepted the easy access to numbness
I blame you for the twenty year old I have become

Some things take way more energy when the chemicals in your brain dont add up to equal happy
Like sitting up to read instead of lying down
Or shaving your legs when you haven't been bothered to in months
You never really cared about my cactus legs though
You're from the desert after all

Someday I'll learn
And to be honest I probably should have by now
But although I'm sure I've been here before
My lessons always come to me the hard way
I cant be told something
I have to experience it
The concept never truly taking form in my mind until I'm stuck right where I never wanted to be
I'm that type of hypocrite who speaks and never listens
Advice given that I never take for myself
I'm sure someday I'll learn though
Just like I have in that true happiness is in the day-to-day
And not knowing who you are or what you want to be in life is okay
Some things take time
I'll learn eventually

Say less to me
Validate me with your hands on my body
Your lips on mine
Your eyelashes close enough to my neck I can hear them brush the air next to the hickey you gave me moments ago
Don't speak with words
Instead tell me  how you crave me with your legs intertwining in mine
dissertate with me your theory of how everything we did in our lives built up to us being here under these sheets sweet body
Trace your feelings over mine with your tongue on that one spot you know makes me weak
And tell me time and time again how much you love me in feather light touches and lifeline bites
Tell me how this body is addicted to the minuscule things I do
You were always an incredible artist
Indulge in me like your art
Grind your hips into mine until your moans are elevator music in my head
I can only hope that you understand my cries they way I intemperate yours

You called me envy, sloth
I called you wrath, pride
These names which will forever haunt me
I must be blind to my envy
I don't see myself as such
Wanting to be what others are
I want to be what I am not
My sloth I understand
My laziness and trepidation in doing
what needs to be done
I see wrath in you
your road rage, lack-of patience self
You laugh at my calling you pride
yet you buy designer clothes and
care too much what others think
of your appearance and mind
these our our sins
and we must learn to live with them

And I asked that you love me more than I hate myself
That's a tall order
A request that one may think is impossible
But you looked me in my eyes
With a fierceness that could set out forest fires
And through your parted lips
You whispered
I already do.

My mania is kind and diligent
that beautiful I woke up like this flawless
It's warm and laughs at the most ridiculous things
and so overwhelmingly optimistic
glass half full with room for more
My depression is ugly and scarred and sees all my flaws
that haven't showered in weeks kind of hermit life
there's a house and world outside of my bed
it doesn't want me to see
what a surprise
My mania is caring and gentle
taking me on treat yourself trips
while overworking because there's work to be
done and there's motivation to do it right now
and we don't know when we'll have this again
My depression is soft in actions but harsh in words
and the feelings it creates
It is too deep in my comfort space
My mania usually keeps its visits short because
staying would only make me act like a normal
productive member of society and my depression
claims that I can't be one of those for long and
calls me back to the bed
always back to the bed
I'm sick of the bed
Mania was visiting last week though
so I know I'll be in bed for the next few months
until my mania makes it's presence known once again
I guess I'll wait
here in my bed
growing tired of the bed
restless

I hate my own company sometimes
My mind always running in marathons
And too still sometimes for the boredom to leave my bones
It is seeping into them
Executive dysfunction and dissociation are playing hopscotch in my brain
There is no winner here
Instead I lay in a standstill of movie- watching and trashed floors
Wondering when the energy will come back
Wondering when the motivation will return
Or if I ever had it in the first place
I've been friends with my mental so long it's hard to remember a life before them
Before they told me who I was and who I should be

Do you know how hard it was to turn
away from your kiss
How hard it was to not throw
my face into your shoulder like
I have so many times before
Instead my saltwater threatened
my lips trembling with choked back words
I smiled and told you that I didn't want to push--
but this space between us right now
this increasing distance
You are the shore my sea-lost body craves
I long to sandwich my bare toes in your sands
and sink into your dry land
Instead I am floating aimlessly, helplessly
in a raft makeshift, broken bottles, vine
drifting further and further away
and my hands are scooping up the water with prayer hands
begging,
pleading with aching muscles
to let me paddle my way back to you
but every time I seem to be pushed
further and further from my goal
I need answers
You said that it wouldn't take
you long to formulate your response
and now a week has lapsed
and I'm still here
in this purgatory
wondering what it is that I could have done
what it is that I can do
to bring you to your senses again

I breathe in the calamity
the scent of chaos overwhelming my senses
and I sit in this musk
this odor of turmoil
this crawling feeling that comes tandem with disarray
my mind is never calm
in this moment I find myself agitated
eager to move to a motionless mindset
where everything makes sense
and nothing is clouded in a fog of uncertainty
but here I sit paralyzed physically by a mental block
in time it will pass
in time it will pass

I've stopped believing in the pretty things
the beautiful words strung in a web too good to be true
I stopped believing I would find perfection
even if it was just perfection to me
because life truly isn't fair
and life isn't beautiful
It's corrupt and distant
a movie with a lost director and bad cast
I want to rewrite the script
I'm sick of this improv game and technical difficulties

I used to love apologies
When you’d admit your wrongness in lew of
my rightness my pride did somersaults
with my ego
I would spend hours admiring their
acrobats and my posture would reflect
their newly practiced muscles with ease
Your apologies were music to my ears
until the bow broke the string
Now the music isn’t right
The gentle hum of my ego doesn’t find
comfort in your shame anymore
I now beg you to stop the music
It has become a terrible scream
A high pitched ringing no one else can
hear but I swear it’s there and I’m not just
crazy or lacking potassium
I want to grab a needle and thread and
sew your mouth shut before you can ever
apologize again
You cannot control the weather
Don’t apologize when I say that I’m cold
You cannot control my sleeping habits
So don’t apologize when you hear how I
couldn’t sleep last night because I
was craving something but didn’t know what
it was and I couldn’t go to bed without it
Don’t apologies to me
When you say you’re sad please don’t
apologize
We are all sad sometimes
There is no shame in realizing our
happiness is only skin deep sometimes
When you say you don’t understand the
joke I just made please don’t apologize
I promise I will explain it to you differently
even if it loses its humor that way
I know you can’t control how your brain
deciphers the meaning of words
When you read my expressions wrong
please don’t apologize
It was my fault for not seeing your
hesitation and confusion and failing to
comfort your headspace with promises
that I’m not mad or upset
I promise it’s just my face and you
heard me the wrong way
That’s okay
I hear things wrong sometimes too
But please don’t apologize for being you.

          ---Autism is funny that way

When I was younger the most horrifying thing
was the garbage disposal
clogged up and over flowing with
a plethora of unknown substances
and my mother
my mother would put her hand into
the murky chunky waters in our kitchen sink
and clear out the drain

If I told you what I really thought of you
And insults were like cavities
I wouldn't have any teeth left

But she was there
Beautiful and intelligent
Strikingly so in both terms
The world couldnt begin to understand
And she wondered what it said about her that she always longed to outwit the detective rather than to catch the killer

There are many things in the world I've never experienced
I suppose I've always had the chance
Just been unlucky with timing
Like that time in the fourth grade when we went to mammoth cave on a field trip
There was an earthquake
But because we were underground we couldn't feel anything
The world was shaking above but we missed it
Maybe the world is shaking now
Maybe I missed it...

How is it when in the dark of the night
in the silence that it holds
it the stillness of the air
that I can see the clearest
can breathe the easiest
can think the loudest
How I, who used to have two nightlights in my room,
can be so fond of the darkness and the quiet
that used to strap me into bed like a teacher's glare

I have dozens of unread books on my shelf eagerly awaiting my hands
Truthfully I could crease their spines anytime
Dog ear their pages to my favorite passages
Underline sentences that must be very well trained in martial arts from the punches they've thrown me
But these books, as much as they intrigue me, will never be you
And having my hands trail your body is better than any page
Breathing in your scent is better than that of a time-worn book
I’d rather have your  sun-kissed body in my arms than the yellowing pages of a novel
I’m not fond of audio books but I’d listen to you a hundred times over before deciphering script
I never thought I could love something more than literature
But darling you are the most beautiful adventure

My favorite bruise belongs to you
A galaxy on my neck
The colors change like northern lights
And while I act differently I do not want
them to fade
I would tattoo my colors
Colors show the world I am taken
Colors show I am willing to give a part of
myself to something bigger
Colors make the world brighter
Northern lights turn even the darkest night
bright
My galaxy will fade
The small colonies created from broken
blood vessels will surely die out like a
plague
Black they called the last
How ironic the darkest color is always the
first to go

   --An ode to hickeys

My best friend doesn't have a physical body
I feel her more than my own skin sometimes.
She tends to come and go as she pleases--
It's always unpredicatble and univited
but I always feel obligated to cater to her needs
like a good hostess should to their guest

It gets old so quickly
I don't even want to get up and cook breakfast for her anymore
so we starting eating out
until its too hard to even leave the house
so she tells me that we can stay in bed and have sleepovers like the good old times
I don't remember those times

She likes to play with my hair
she's not very good at it though
it always ends up in tangles and knots that take
hours and days to brush out once she leaves
because undoing her handiwork would make her sad

I try to tell her sometimes that her being here is too much
it starts to affect my job
my life
my health

I try to get her to leave
I've been here so long she says
just a little longer she says
what would you do without me she says
I'll just move in she says

She's my best friend but--
she wont pay rent
she has never been a friend to hygiene
she doesn't know how to do laundry
or cook
or clean
she'd rather lay around all day than hold down a job

I want her to go
I want her to go
Why won't she go

I come from a family of alcoholics
so you'd expect me to be such
But I like to believe I'm different
I drink because the thought of being in
reality terrifies me
I'd rather dream
And when I drink
It's like I'm dreaming while being awake
I don't feel
I don't exsist
I know I have a problem
But this dream world of mine is so
tempting
You'd never understand

I denied what was going on for a long time
The lack of I love yous
The late nights and early mornings
I should have seen it coming in hindsight
But your lies were always lullabies in my head
Calming my fears from my paranoia and assumptions
I should have listened to them and not to you
You were never a good singer anyways
And I never did like lullabies

You asked me if you could illustrate my poetry
to get a collection published
to frame one I wrote for you in your new home
You believed in me when I doubted myself
I've heard people tell me to get published before
been told that I'm a good writer before
been told this is what I should be doing before
But when you said it
I believed it
For the first time I believed I did have what it takes
believed I could throw myself into my writing shamelessly
believed that it was okay to dislike some of my writing
that's a sign of growth after all
you taught me more about confidence in myself than any
other person did
I'm sure you would say the same about me all because I pushed you out of your comfort zone a few times but believe me when I say that you made the push way before I did
Thank you for introducing me to that concept
I've always had a fear of falling paired with the odd love of being in high places
But because of you, I'm not afraid to fall
I could never repay you

I believed my mind to be a box of glass walls
the moon to be chasing my car at night
the roaring of the car wash to be a lion trapped in a den
I believed quicksand to be a much more prominent threat than it truly is
and that I would have surely caught fire at least a few times in my life at the rate Stop Drop and Roll were engraved into my brain
I thought by now I would have experienced peer pressure and that saying no to a drink or a smoke wouldn't have been this easy-- no one ever retorted
That by age eighteen I would be free from my parents rules and I would be living alone with a dozen animals  working my dream job
Or at least that I would be dead
That I would surely be dead

Contrary to most Catholics my mother
believes in reincarnation
I clearly was a fish
bigger in my mind
longing for the ocean but trapped in the
needs of freshwater
But unlike my mind
my soul longs for puddles
I was a fish in a past life and I’m still
trying to get used to the idea that I am
now on land.

    --Is this homesickness?

I'm happy that you're happier than me
I really am
I'm not one of those people that wishes my life on others
I'm glad you have such a loving support system
That you are doing so well for yourself
Even if it means that you are alone
Even if it means that I am alone
I'm happy for you

You know sometimes I feel like I'm slipping
I can feel it coming
Its presence obvious by the steps echoing down the hall
Its wearing heels today
I knew I should have put carpet down instead of tile
Maybe this feeling wouldn't be so daunting then
But I know I'm slipping
Back into the headspace where nothing makes sense
Back where I can smile but it is only sketched and not carved
Back where solace is my favorite company
Back to where I hate being but somehow always end up
I know I'm slipping
I promise I'm looking for a handrail
A countertop
A ledge
Something that will catch me or at least buffer the fall a little
I'm slipping over here
I guess they forgot to put out the wet floor sign
I will never win this lawsuit though
I'm clumsy
I slipped

I'm used to breaking hearts
And glasses
And promises I said I would keep
I break eye contact
And routine
And once both my pinkies at the same time
I wish I could break mirrors
Then maybe my reflection would match how I feel inside
S  H  A  T  T  E  R  E  D

When I find a word I do not know the
Meaning of
I run it over the ever-changing terrain of
my mouth
repeat it with its jagged motions and soft
slopes until it becomes meaningless and
familiar on its roller costar ride of my
tongue
The supervisor releases its safety bar at
my teeth and the word slowly makes his
way out of the vehicle with wobbling legs
over my lips
I hum in pleasure
A new word is a new mystery
A dessert waiting for its purpose of sweet
indulgence to be discovered beneath that
picture perfect guise
My mouth is a fork scooping it up into my
vocal chords making itself known to my
body in a burst of flavor I have never
known before.
And I am in awe of how the linguist like
chefs craft such masterpieces.
When I find a new word I grab a can of
spray paint and graffiti the closest brick
wall in my mind with its shape.
How incredible it is to bring such beauty
to a blank canvas
I learned cursive in the third grade
And I am thankful that these human
hands have the ability to scribe new
vocabulary in more form than one.
To see its beauty in a different font.

    --I failed out of college as an English Major

When I was younger and self-harmed
I often found myself becoming disappointed
that my scars were fading
I didn't want to see the most
interesting thing about me disappear....

I like this feeling
this depleted state of consciousness
a place I can relax and forget
that being human is painful and not very rewarding
I wake in with a clear mind in the morning
and go to work for money I wont see but my landlord will
I wake and I recieve nothing that is truly my own
so I let this feeling take over
this depleted state of well being
self nurture is sometimes self torture
I'm beginning to see that

I’ve had strings on my
wrists and ankles from
the moment I stepped
foot on this stage
    true they are not
metal chains but they
    hold me the same way
    
    --I belong somewhere unattainable

When I was younger I used to believe that I was destined for greatness
Not the kind of greatness like curing cancer or anything
But the magical, the unbelievable
I was meant to leave this world
This place where I've never really had a place
I was supposed to go explore magical lands
meet weird and unusual creatures
do incredible and impossible things
I know it's just a childish whim from years ago
Yet I still lay in bed at night wondering
what It would be like to wake up somewhere else
what it would be like to be needed somewhere
to be wanted somewhere
to be destined for more
but it looks like I missed those storybook years
where I would be chosen for something more

I often times wonder how my name tastes in your mouth
i'm sure it used to be a favorite of yours
crisp, single-syllable proclamation of adoration
a name can hold so much power
I doubt you savored the times when my name tasted sweet in your mouth
I bet you thought my name would never become sour to your tongue
would never fumble out with regret and broken promises
would never leave a burning in the back of your throat
Your name was always indulgent to me
naturally causing my mouth to form a smile as your letters positioned themselves on my tongue
Your name was an addiction
thrilling and dangerous
I say your name now with a bitter tone
It tastes wrong now
Like how when I was younger and had such a sweet tooth, but now that I'm older I crave salty things
I guess my mouth grew tired of your name
grew tired of how easily it fell
now I have to force it out
is it the same for you?

When you died I did not tell anybody
I carried on my life as though you were never in it
I did not cry for you
With no visitation your funeral was short,
but I still didn’t find the need to have
anyone there but me.
You were not buried
That didn’t seem to suit your personality,
A swimmer, free, should never be held
down by the harrowing weight of dirt.
A cremation seemed unsuitable too. You
were so frail in death no ash would be left
behind.
I flushed you in my porcelain bowl
One last final swim

    --Sir Cinderbrick Linroy the Third

I cried over take out mexican last night ashamed of my lack of friends
It never bothered me before
Probably because I never really took notice
But when you moved away it made me realize I had nobody
My family wouldn't even go out with me
Two friends
One I barely have the time to speak to anymore
And you, who moved hours away
I guess it's kinda funny that this of all things caused me to spiral down
Being alone is the worst kind of pain

There's food here
and they remind me to eat
I don't remember the last time I had consistant meals like this
food and I have a unique relationship
textures, smells, colors
too many senses to take in at once
it's overwhelming sometimes
food is a battle
one I really never know how to combat
my weapons once vehemently familiar metal talons and serrated edges
were replaced by supervised plastic and paper
I have to ask for everything here
I would find it demeaning,
but instead I find comfort in being cared for
it's been a while since I felt so safe and secure

-- hear my greatest threat is me

My greatest trick will be a disappearing
act where I do not disappear but appear
to be.
I will stand on hollow ground as you
The audience
Watches with lackluster eyes
No applause
No awe
No response
You continue life as though mine did not exist
Never existed
I will stand before you
Shouting
Screaming
Isn’t my trick amazing?
I stand right before you but you cannot see
I will reach out trying to reverse my trick
But I never learned how to turn myself back
That part will never interested me until now
So I will stay in this standstill
And you, my audience, will continue to
Marvel

    --When I was younger I wanted to be a magician

I do not have a green thumb
I guess my color-blind eyes which have a
natural disagreement with blue and yellow
could never handle the mixture of the two.
Still, I try to be the green I cannot see
Home depot thought I was interesting
seven cacti bought on impulse
with the small hope I would be able to
keep them alive in a cat infested house
with my soul a lover of dark rooms
I once read that plants died even with
immaculate care because the curses
others were placing on you were being
absorbed by the living plant instead.
So to those who curse me, please stop.
I impulsively bought seven cacti and I can’t
go back to home depot three weeks from now
hanging my head in shame.

     --Envy, greed, wrath, sloth, pride, gluttony, lust

They're changing my meds
so I'll be here for a while
a decade or so of avoiding help and treatment has left me at a personal best for my worst
but I feel okay
I can't tell if I manic or stable
finally not in the pit of depression
it's been so long I don't know what okay feels like anymore

--I'm trying not to get excited

I make my brain fade every night into oblivion because it's better than facing the truth that I am nothing
That I will amount to nothing
I will forever be nothing
And I will die nothing

I'm old
Now I know what you're thinking
You're twenty
You're young
But the truth is
My bones groan and pop with every movement and my eyes haven't shown in this daunting world for quite some time
We grow up sooner now
Which is strange to think
Because I'm not 14 and married with 2 children
But we grow up sooner
Because this world we live in is harsh
Its cruel and they stopped giving us rose colored glasses at birth
I've been here before
I'm old I say
And you laugh with lines on your face telling of age
I guess I will never make you understand

I don’t know what it was about you that
made my soul easy
I trusted you with the deepest pools of me
I did not know myself.
Underwater cave exploring is a dangerous
profession,
And I am so lucky that you feel bold enough
Crazy enough
Trust in me enough to do so.
It’s not easy to show others these parts
of me
To know me is to spend years on a puzzle
only to have that dreaded last piece go
missing.
Only my solution isn’t as beautiful as
slowly building art
And it’s much more time consuming.

    --Letting people close

I watched as she became a stranger to me--
one that I knew very well

I watched and I wanted and I ached

I still ache

    ---no one warns you about this part