Flowers on sale at the food mart, she walked on by, bye bye, buying groceries is on the todo list in the car’s cup holder, chicken scratched on the back of a receipt…stuck together with a 1980 penny, I don't know when she can find the time, when can she… why can’t she…she’ll do it when she can… canned peaches on the shelf a day past expiration, on the list it goes…her favorite pen… where can she find it… where can she find her… her...she can find it if she can… a can opener… does she have it? she thinks she does have it… she does have it…the store…the time…has it been too long or has it not? where is it… the pen… the opener… she swore saw it somewhere but did she? when did she see it? frustration… she's there, she’s not there, she’s a zombie movies do well in theaters. She doesn’t like it, but her friend does, he wrote one and a similar movie came out two months after, believe me…her… is it believable? they think it's lies, she likes to be believed but when is she is speaking she is not lying, though she is gullible enough to trust others, to believing, leaving, I want to leave, if she / her / they want to leave…want help with this… help with what…she won't be believed… so she leaves. they want to help them, they want to buy peaches are better freshly cut with cool whip

im sorry
I know it takes a while for my thoughts to reach my mouth and
im sorry the delay gives you the
         wrong impression
im sorry I've been hiding how bad my trauma really is because i don't want to be known as the one with depression
im sorry
im sorry
im sorry I tried to reconnect and try to mend the bond when I know you wont change the single frozen sliver of ice in the warmth i know you have.
im sorry
im sorry
im sorry that im no longer sorry for leaving
your ice is contagious and fatal
im sorry I gave up trying to convince you that it is there
im sorry it hurts me more than it should
and im sorry i wasn't tough enough to bear the cold for longer

Climbing                                                        
        Climbing
Climbing
Blisters form on my fingers as I reach from one ragged stone to the next
                  Climbing
         Climbing
Climbing
"I can do this" I tell myself. My palm is numb, the pain does not matter.
                   Climbing
         Climbing
Climbing
I smile, the top is near. Reachable. It does not matter that the air is thin up here and I can hardly breath
                    Climbing
          Climbing
Climbing
I reach up for the final time and pull myself up onto the top.
"I did it," I tell you smiling brightly. "I've finally reached where you are."
I want to shake your hand but mine is filthy with blood and gravel
You come closer, it frightens me and I back away
"You had it easy, I have suffered much more than you." You say. But I can see your hands are smooth and beautifully clean. Your nails painted and pristine.
You turn away. Your long hair slaps my face. My foot slips.
Falling
       Falling
               Falling

Why do I sleep but it gives no peace
Why do I need the darkness to breath
Why does the poison which is supposed to **** me, make me feel more alive
And the more I live, I wish to die
Why do I love those that are taboo
You say the future is bright
But all I see is blue

Take nothing but my heart.
Leave nothing but a gaping abyss of where my love once was.
Take nothing but my trust
Leave nothing but my soul, a vessel of despair that once held the life stone of my being.
Take everything but my shell
Leave nothing but nothingness itself, a gaping abyss where my essence once resided.

The night and day drift apart
The sun disappears under the horizon
And the moon waves goodbye
                                                  as the twilight cries.

When she saw him running madly towards her she chocked on the sentence she began to speak. She saw his desperate twisted face with her in his sight and wanted nothing more than to meet him in the middle.
Her body twitched but her reason told her it was not appropriate.

He had abandoned that reason.
Shameless.
Nothing else existed in his sight but her standing on the other side.
Frustrated with every pounding step that only if he were faster she would already be in his arms.

When he finally pulled her into him in the collision the surge of relief, joy, and wholeness overwhelmed him. He exhaled it all in a broken sigh and realized...
Why love was seen as a drug

I would offer you my heart
But sadly, it was decayed from the very start
It's phantom pulses of life beat only from the afterworld, unreachabe by your healing touch
You are welcome to the husk that remains but I'm afraid it's fragile form will crumble in your arms
I seem to be the one who was cursed, but I pity you
For in the end, you have nothing to hold

Tell me what can I do
Because nothing ever seems to go right
You only come home every other night
Tell me what can I do
When people are looking our way, With the strangest face and see your hand around her waist.
I tell you things have got to change.
But you say no way, maybe some other day.
I'm trying my best to hold on to you
Tell me what can I do
I need to rest
Because of all this stress
But maybe things will turn out for the best
I guess I shouldn’t hold my breath
But I still try every day and say that things have got to change
You say no way, maybe some other day.
Why do I even try
Every time I bring it to light
You say I’m just picking a fight
Maybe you’re right

The instructor said,

      Go home and write
      a page tonight.
      And let that page come out of you—
      Then, it will be true.

And so I sit here, mulling over this blank page and think.
What am I to say, what am I to share? Who am I?
Maybe I should start there?

I am a female, both a woman and a girl or somewhere in between.
I have lived for 21 years and some change, though I am not the same as most my age.
I like to listen to soft melodies, and drink hot beverages.
To stay (safe) inside and happy on most days. Read something, Watch something, maybe create.

I am me. A simple soul, but at the same time not.

Let me explain, don’t worry, it won’t be a lot.
I try...I try to be what I am taught, but trying to be who they want me to be, I’m at a loss.
Because you see, It’s difficult to strive for your dreams in this era, but that is just the way the world spins.
In truth I do not know who I am. Is the me that is seen, the me I believe myself to be? Or the person I try to be? If that makes any sense?
Though, I do believe that we are who we want ourselves to be. And in the end I have decided that all I am, is who I am perceived to be by you my peers and friends.

If you haven’t noticed yet, I think too much for my own good, I lied... I have a feeling this paper will be longer than it should.

One thing about me, is that I think about space a lot, because when I think about earth....
Y’know what...I’d rather not.

I’d like to love, but what I have seen and heard makes me hesitate,
It is up to my luck, or some say fate to find someone who can help me break down this barricade.

Anyway, I have a dilemma, across the street from my window right now is the Uno’s and I have this primal urge for a sweet dessert. Though I know I should not because the idea of going outside right now turns my stomach into a knot.

But hey, that’s just another Friday.

I do not know if this paper is what it was meant to be, but it is me. So In conclusion;
What should I say? Who am I?
Uno’s dessert might literally be to die for, what should I do?

Also, It’s a bit too late but I think I should have led with
“Hello, nice to meet you!”

When the rain showers down for the tree to drink and breath in the foggy thick air,
Do you think it thinks of where it is from.
Do you think it knows that the droplets it cleanses itself in falls thousands of feet uninterrupted to meet and disperse at the touch of its leaves and waits for each one.
Do you think the tears of the sky fall to the earth with comfort or fear?

When the rainbow showings down-and-out for the treetop to drinker and breather in the foggy thick airbrick,
Do you think it thinks of where it is from. Do you think it knows that the droppers it cleanses itself in falls thousands of footballs uninterrupted to meet and disperse at the touchdown of its leaves and waits for each one. Do you think the tearaways of the skydiver fall to the earthquake with comforter or feast?

The twittering of birds
Or my morning alarm
The roar of the waterfall
Or the static from the TV
I wonder
Which of these things I'm hearing
Is real