why is the most common theme
of our existence the most painful
concept for us to accept?

there is something about a really big storm
that makes you feel so connected to earth
and to the strangers inhabiting it.
it's like, we're all in this together.
in this moment,
we're all kind of scared,
but we also feel this unique warmth
that only storms bring.
that warmth that collects in your chest
and then drizzles down your entire body,
slow like molasses,
until it reaches your toes
and we are reflective.
there's nothing like clouds parting
like flood gates,
releasing beautiful danger
over the roofs of our homes
and the windshields of our cars
to remind us of love or love lost.

I miss you in this moment
even though you are sitting right beside me.
you're not mine anymore.
a storm brings closeness, though.
it's like all the space between
washes away
with whatever pieces of the earth
found their way into the gutter.
everything kind of stops.
we are here for each other right now.
at least until it passes.
I want to comfort you.
I know you want to comfort me too
because that's just what storms do.
so I am twisting your hair
between my fingers,
as gently as my strong hands know how,
and I am looking at your neck,
and the side of your face,
all of the marks the world has left on you-
the places where you've bled,
and grown,
and stretched,
and shrunk-
the tear stains
and laugh lines
and deep pores
collecting dirt,
the indents
permanently left
along your temples
from 22 years of glasses.
you are beautiful
in the haze of violent rain.
everyone is.

I've always took notice
to the way people become so soft,
and kind,
and forgiving
when Mother Nature
is at her angriest-
like we are children
who've just been scolded.
she came down
and whispered in our ears,
"I can take this all from you
in a cold second."
and we believed her.

storms are when we count our blessings.
I counted you a few more times
than I'd like to admit
as the street lights
wrapped their yellow arms
around your chin
and then sunk into your lap,
again, and again.

When I was a child
the sun was my soulmate.
we'd dance across the yard,
barefoot and laughing.
in this moment, though,
I fear the sun.
I fear that when he comes
and settles the storm,
I will disassociate again.
I will feel a sturdy distance
between myself
and the things I love most,
like you.

I'm right, of course,
because that's what happened.
I feel so locked inside myself again,
and here I am,
one o'clock
on a Sunday morning,
wondering if I'll ever be
anything more than scared and lonely.
I haven't been in the past.

but I am trying this time.
I always say that I am,
so who can trust me?

but I feel it in my kneecaps,
my collarbones,
my knuckles,
and my elbows.
I'm sore with radiating power
pushing its way
from my core to my exterior.

something is stretching inside of me,
and pretty soon
the skin I'm in now
is going to burst
and evaporate into thin air
and I am going to be draped
in brand new flesh,
unbroken by speeding time
and undeserving love.
pretty soon I am going to be brave.
pretty soon I am going to
dance barefoot in my backyard
with the sun
and I am going to feel
like I deserve the vitamins
that will pulsate into my feet.
I won't feel like energy
from the ground
and the sky
are wasted on me,
a stagnant creature,
crying for no reason.

pretty soon,
I'll stop crying.
I'll be whole.
and safe.
and fulfilled.
I feel it.

there is a healer
who's traveled up
and down mountains,
through lakes,
under, and over bridges,
and it's knocking on doors
right now
looking for me
and when it gets here,
my chest is gonna split open
like an avocado
and let it in.

I am going to be connected,
even when Mother Nature
isn't throwing a tantrum.

I am going to come back to my body
and I am going to look
through my big eyes
and I am going to see the world
for what it is
and I am going to laugh
so hard my ribs
are going to rattle
inside my stomach
and I am going to mean it.

the darkness is lifting.
the sun is coming.
I am strength.
I am wisdom.
I am power
and I have not given up.

I'm not leaving because
I need to feel missed
I'm leaving because
I need to know that I can live
a healthy life, alone

everything is poetry, in the same way that nothing is
and i'd be lying if i said i didn't hate him more each time we fell in love
and green eyes are my favorite but his are brown
so brown are my favorite but only when he's around

i liked falling off of swings when i was 8,
i was the kid pushing my feet against
the ground just a little harder
than the rest
it wasn't because i liked
the burn of the mulch as
i came crashing through it,
i just liked the way time
kind of stopped
just before i dropped

and that's how i grew up,
chasing after feelings,
not people,
feelings,
not things

you were a feeling in the same way that i felt nothing with you in my bed
and i told all my secrets to your neck
but you never heard a single one

and as time went by
i got younger every day
and you get older constantly,
i can taste it on your coffee lips,
but that's okay
i always liked the way
coffee tastes so bitter it's sweet

I'm rain
but not the kind of rain
people drink coffee and stare at
from studio apartment windows
and under pretty white gazebos ,

I'm rain
but not the kind of rain
that falls soft at first,
and then harder,
and then soft again,

I'm rain
but not the kind of rain
that smells sweet
and makes flowers grow
in the spring time,

I'm rain
but not the kind of rain
that collects in pretty puddles
in the pavement
so that toddlers in rubber boots
can jump in and splash
their parents,

I'm rain
but not the kind of rain
that lulls crying teenagers
to sleep in their warm beds
or makes lovers miss one an other,

I'm rain
but not the kind of rain
people watch and listen to
with gentle acceptance,

I'm the kind of rain
that falls fast and hard,

the kind of rain that is cold
and hurts sun burnt shoulders
when it hits them,

the kind of rain that washes
pretty chalk paintings off of
drive ways in suburbs
without a second thought,

the kind of rain that
seeps through ceiling tiles
turning cozy little homes into
chaotic whirlwinds of
anxiety and destruction,

the kind of rain that
makes your joints ache
and your eyes red,

the kind of rain that
gets the kids out of the pool
and sprinting inside,
cold, wet, and uncomfortable,

the kind of rain that
washes leafs into
your gutters,

you curse it all week long,

the kind of rain that
only wanted to touch the earth,

to feel some semblance of warmth,

but the kind of rain that
doesn't know how to
leave the thunder at home,

the kind of rain who
breaks the things
it loves,
no matter how
hard it tries to be
gentle...

it's like scratching
at the top of the coffin,
splintered hands,
shaky knees,
& shallow breath-

i'm climbing my way
out of this mess,

but once i sift through
all the soil
and finally land
with my feet on solid ground,
you're waiting in the graveyard
with the same shovel
that buried me in the first place-

and this goes on and on and on,
and the blood on your skin
will someday stain
from all the self-inflicted pain.
and this goes on and on and on,
and your teeth
will someday chip
from all the forced silence.
and this goes on and on and on-

til my elbows shatter
from pushing the weight
and my wrists break
from holding on so tight
and my throat begins
to bleed from screaming
your name,
begging you to save me.

but you will never be the one
who digs me out
when i'm in too deep
to catch my breath.

you will always be
the boy with the shovel,
and me...
the girl with the concrete feet...

I wish my hands had ghosts of their own,
That could pass through walls
Without chipping paint,
That could swim through oceans
Without making waves,
And that could penetrate skin
Without drawing blood

I would reach inside your skull,
No matter how far from my bed
You lie awake,
And I'd pull out all the fear
That collects in the
Grooves of your brain
And I'd drop it in the gravel,
And squash it like a cigarette ****
Between my thumb & pointer fingers,
And once it lost its flame
I'd put it back inside your
Pretty head
Just so you could feel
how small it really is,
How powerless,
How easy to extinguish

Then I'd catch the rain
That is constantly falling
From your eyes,
I'd hold it in front of your nose
So you can see
Its softness as
It drains between
My knuckles,
How it nourishes the soil,
How gentle it really is
When it makes it to the ground

You are vibrant
And you are safe

You are vibrant
And you are safe

I'd dip my finger in charcoal
And write that all across
Your windows
Until I could feel the anxiety
Slow in your heart beat,
Until I could feel the calm
Crawling into bed with you,
Cradling you to sleep

I'd trace the letters
To make the words,
"You are strong
And nothing can hurt you"
Across your chest

This may feel like a nightmare
But you are a dream
And you are made of so much more

My hands don't have ghosts,

But if there are live wires
That pump energy
From every heart
to every other,
I hope you,
Each of you,
Who see your life
Being drained of its
Beauty by the ****** hands
Of hate and bigotry
Feel the weight of all the love
I'm sending you

Even through all the cruelty
That overwhelms you,
I hope you feel the weight
of all the love I'm sending you,

And I hope you know
No matter what
That you are poetry
You are art
You are power
And you won't
Crumble
And you won't
Fade away

I hope you feel the weight
Of all the blooming
Flowers who look up to you
To keep your cleansing light
In a polluted sky

I left my seat belt beside me,
because I wanted to die

I left my windows wide open,
just to feel *alive

After he died, I spent two and a half years in my bed. The doctors said I was depressed. I think I was just tired.
I rose out of that coffin of satin sheets with a lot of coffee and some diet pills. I didn't climb back in for six months. The doctors said I was an insomniac. I think I was just pensive.
I eventually fell back in with too much Lunesta and some cough syrup. I finally started having dreams again but I couldn't decievere them from my reality. The doctors said I had severe anxiety. I think I just had a good imagination.
I cut until my bones ached. They called me suicidal but I think I was just bored.
I drank until my insides began to drown. They called me an alcoholic but I think I was just thirsty.
I stopped eating until my ribs stuck out. They called me anorexic but I think I was just lazy.
I said I ******* loved you. I said I'd always miss you. I said I really needed you. You thought I was just messed up & confused. But I think I saw you holding the rope that could pull me out of rock bottom.

Well heyyyy, what I think
never really matters anyway.

You want me to let you in?
To call off the guards?
To let down the walls?
You,
So passionately,
want me to
stop fighting

so I will.



I will fall violently,
unadulteratedly
& freely
in love with you.

Just like you want me to.

And you'll lie in my bed all day,
while I try on eight different
dresses for my cousin's wedding

And when you leave,
I'll watch my skin shrink
as I lie
paralyzed
in my bathtub,
day dreaming
about the two small freckles
under the left corner
of your bottom lip

And the first time we argue
& you spend three whole days
angrily ignoring my calls,
I'll chain smoke
until my throat burns

And when you
finally decide
to show up at my door
with a vanilla latte
and apologetic eyes,
I will melt
pathetically
into your collarbones
and all down your spine

And then we will sit
Indian style
across from each other
on my kitchen floor
& you'll tell me in
excruciating
detail all your past lovers'
infidelities and unkindnesses
that led you to fight with me

And that will be it

That will be
the exact moment
when I will know,
without a doubt
that I am
completely & entirely
******

And I will cry into
your neck,
knowing for sure
that from then on
even the most passive,
nonspecific
mention of your name
will make my stomach float up
into my chest
& jolt back down
into my abdomen
like I'm falling
from the highest point
on a roller coaster

And no amount of
poetry,
whiskey,
midnight drives,
nicotine,
house shows
or therapy
will make it stop
or even distract
my soul from it for
a ******* split second

Because
once I allow myself
to love,
I love until I break &
then I keep on loving
until I'm nothing

And I just don't know
if your conscience
is strong enough
to carry the weight
of my shattered heart

So...
tell me Hazel Eyes,
just how bad
you actually want me
to pick up that phone

I'm a deer in the headlights,
I'm pacing back and forth
I don't know whether to run
forward or step back
There is darkness where I came from
but I can't see ahead

I'm somewhere between
vibrant red and navy blue

My roommate is vomiting
in the bathroom.
I turn up the television,
and pretend not to hear her

I'm a deer in the headlights,
I can't see the face that sits
behind the steering wheel

I imagine she's soft and gentle,
she'll let me pass & I'll be safe

But what if she's sharp and angry,
she'll strike me down & I'll bleed out

My roommate convulses on
the cold tile floor,

There is sweat rolling off her
rib cage

I find her half conscious,
and I don't believe this is happening again

My back aches
but only in one place

I wonder if it's you,
griping me from behind,
trying desperately to pull me backward

Or maybe my back just aches,
and I think too much

I tried to make a friend again today,
and ended up naked & empty,
fumbling around his sheets,
trying to get out of my mind

I don't think I'm doing this right
cause I feel like a deer in the headlights,
and I miss my mother,
and I know she'd slap the cigarette
right out of my hand,
and then she'd kiss my forehead,
and I'd feel better

I'm tripping over gravel,
Pacing back and forth
The yellow light creates a straight line
And I keep following it to the same place

There's been a song stuck in
my head for three days
and 8 & a half hours,
I can't focus on anything else

I told a boy I hate
that I love him,
just because I like the
way it sounded as it rolled off my lips
And I knew I'd get high off the look in his eyes

Maybe that's my whole problem-
Start to finish,
Plain and simple,
I just wanna be liked
And I never have been

Can't tell if I'm useless
or too used-
Can I be both at the same time?

I'm a deer in the headlights,
trying to find my way back to my mother,
going blind from the colors

I'm a deer in the headlights...

Mom,
If you can hear me now,
I'm so sorry for who I am

I can't imagine how
having art under my skin
makes me *****,
but I can imagine how
lacking art inside your heart
makes you angry

Cigarette smoke
burns my eyes
swallows my face
in his basement
Laughter
so loud
Floating in a glass
of wine
You tried to splash me
But it slipped from your finger tips
and shattered against the floor
In the morning we will wake
and try not to step in last night's mess
We always try not to step into last night
but we always do...
like there's no way around it
We always step into last night
Trip and fall into last night
Cigarette smoke
burns my eyes
swallows my face
in his basement
here we go again
it never really ends
I just want to wake up in the morning
Sweep last night into an old dust pan
Shake it into the garbage can
And leave it there
Wander into tomorrow
Where everything is new
Different
Undiscovered
Waiting
I know there is a tomorrow waiting for us
Am I the only one who is waiting,
to find it?

I'm the patron saint of lost causes,
You're the priest who's covered in bruises

I found you at the edge of the ocean,
The tide brushing your knee caps
And your fists buried in the sand,
With a cigarette dangling out the corner
Of your lips,

You wouldn't look me in the eyes
when I swallowed dry spit
to ask you what the ****
you were doing

You said,
"I walked and
I was gonna keep walking
endlessly into the waves
until my lungs filled
with salt water
and my brain finally
stopped squirming"

I knew that
was the case
before you said it,
And I wanted to tell you
I'd be lost without you...
But I'm lost anyway
And you ******* know it

I wanted to say,
"I'll always love you"
But 'always' doesn't mean
much coming from a person
Who's given themselves
about four months to live

So I leaned back
and let the sea wet my scalp

Drunk,
And tired
I realize
We're really bad at
being 20-somethings
Cause we're always searching
for the most peaceful place to fall apart

We didn't come out here,
to live on the beach
so we could have bonfires
under the pier
and drink margaritas with
tan friends...
That's what we've led
the world to believe,
And maybe even ourselves
some days

But at the core of it,
we know,
we came out here
to cry where it's quiet...
To listen to the water
washing over
the chaotic whirlwind
of our ever-growing anxiety

It rains every day at 4 PM,
And we sit outside
completely silent

When lightening strikes the sky
it reminds me of the color
your veins turn
when you're six drinks in
and digging into your wrist
with your acrylics,
That electric blue
that lingers behind my eyelids

We just wanna be normal
I hope we get there,
On some city rooftop,
High in the spring time

I'm writing to say that I've finally shed the last layer of skin that your scent lingered on and I'm sorry that I let the thought of you sit stagnant over my bones for so long.

We watched three DVDs of Elvis
on the Ed Sullivan show,
Just to find you waving in the crowd
for a quarter of a second

It was brief
But to see you so young
And gentle and light
Was worth the hours
Of black & white tv
And jokes that are no longer funny

The first night I met you
You asked me if I was a writer
And I asked how you knew

You said it takes one to know one

I read your poetry for three hours
In Indian style on your living room floor
While you ate crackers from a ziplock bag
And talked about the love of your life
And the way his chest felt
The first time you used it as a pillow

You told me not to cry
When Elijah dumped me
You said pain is everywhere,
I'll miss out on life
If I let it consume me

I turned to leave your room
On a random Sunday last December,
It was cold and wet and dark,
And I was tired,
You grabbed my hand
And stopped me in my tracks
You said "learn to relax"
And then you held me still
Until you saw the anxiety
melt out of my eyes

I asked you why you
Bother to keep the car
Even though you know
You'll never drive it
You asked me why
I bother to love the sick
Even though I know
They're dying

You told me "don't close the blinds,
The world is beautiful"
Last time I came to say goodnight

You kept making plans,
Where you'd go after you left here
Even though "here" was certainly
The last place you'd be

I never understood
Why you kept pretending;
Pretending there was more

I get it now, Peggy
I know

I thought I buried my demons six feet deep
But they were only sleeping at my feet
I tossed and turned all night
A kick for the shortness of his words
A kick for missing my best friends
A kick for leaving everything
Between all the nightmares
And even through the dreams
A kick for all the addiction in my life
A kick for all the illness
And a kick for all the pain
A kick for the grief
And for the fear
A kick for the dishonesty
And for the vulnerability
I kicked and kicked and kicked
Until I unknowingly
woke every single one
Now they're standing over me
Especially angry
And I'm not so sure I can climb
out this time

People are gentle when their hearts are broken
The people who are the meanest to themselves
Are the people who are the kindest to others
I never hurt anyone when I was in pain
I'm sorry for healing

I made a wrong turn
In a coffee craving rage
I ended up behind the park
where we used to play
The fence collapsing in on itself
And a freshly graffitied pavilion
It was brand new; white and green
When we were kids
But things seem to have
taken a new look since then

I fell asleep
In the center of a stressful afternoon
Chaos spiraling all around me
Hidden under the darkness of closed eyelids
I saw your feet aligned with mine
Memories very rarely wander into dreams
But here we were,
Our eyes still unsure
We walked pretty **** far for an iced tea
At that corner store
But looking back, I don't think it was the
iced tea that we were walking for

I threw my wallet out on the counter
Dreaming of inhaling the first of a fresh pack
I was on my way to work
But I was thinking of heading back
Your senior picture came shooting out from under
my ID in front of the register
You're outside your old house
Leaning against your Dad's garage
I think one of our friends did the honors
An awkward smile
And a broken wrist
Dark skin
Pale eyes

Today I looked for pieces of you
All over the floors
And the walls
Of my skull

Since you've slipped away
I've been afraid for you to see
how wrong you were about me
I'm not strong
I'm not okay
I'm not intuitive
I'm not brave
I'm not omniscient
I'm not angelic

And I'm not a poet...
I can't even articulate to you
how far I've fallen
I can't even find the right words
to prove to you that
I still miss you
That I still need you

I don't need god because I have a pillow top mattress. It's always there for comfort in the back of my mind like a reason to make it home tonight after an 18 hour shift.

Forgiver of all my sins. It cradles me to peace, even on my most evil of nights. Omniscient and silent. It knows what I've done and it knows how I've felt. I've wept into it. Wrote poem after poem while sitting Indian style atop of it. Chosen lovers and tasted their skin all over it. It doesn't ask questions. It just holds me gently and mends my aching bones until I'm fast asleep.

I never realized how much I depended
on affection until I had none
Tons of different lips this summer
Some sweeter than others
But all heavenly compared to boredom
And anxiety
And confusion
I wanna go home
But there's no kicking addiction
In the place that you grew up in

I divide what's left of you
into small portions
I want you to last as long
as possible
I swallow a little bit
like a pill when its bad
When I really need it
It cures everything
but only temporarily
By morning you're usually gone,
It's usually gone
And then the headache sets in
My stomach turns
My eyes water
And the days fade into one an other
I once wore you like an IV
You were constantly
pumping your life into me
You fell away
And left me with
this painful dependency
And no real fix