We built our house at the base of the mountain.
When the tremors began, we ignored them.
When fire and ash rained from the sky
we covered our heads but did not run.
We knew in our hearts: this is how it ends.
When they come in a hundred years
they will see green grass and purple blossoms.
They will know nothing of the pain
save for the hollows of our bodies.

Tattoos are scars
we choose to keep--
words we want to carry,
memories we fear losing;
ink and needle are
the self-inflicted stinging:
the pain we choose to feel.
art on our bodies--
out of our minds--
something
real.

Why is saying goodbye
so easy
when every word
every syllable
every sound
of "hello"
was so
*******
hard?

If someone asked me
how I would describe
color,
I would tell them this:

Yellow
is stepping outside in spring.
It is the welcoming
embrace of sun.

Green
is lying in a field of grass.
It is the rustle of leaves
in the summer breeze.

Blue
is standing in the light rain,
and the sweet birdsong
when the sky opens up.

Red
is the feeling when your hands brush;
her lips on yours, breathing the same air.
It is the fire in two hearts that beat together.

I want to take
the fast train with you
and go far away from here.
~
Wǒ xiǎng gēn nǐ
zuò kuàichē
qù lí zhè'er yuǎn

I feel the feather-light touches
Of imaginary fingers
As they creep across my shoulders.
Longingly,
I pretend that the pressure
Across my chest is the security
Of your arms holding me.
But really, it is the constricting
Bind of loneliness
Gripping me tightly.

I clung to you like a lifeline-
A floating buoy in a violent sea
But when I let go of you
Into the deep, deep
Blue,
I found that I had gills—
And I could breathe.

We built our house
at the base of Vesuvius;
in the shadow of that mountain
we made our home.

When the tremors came
we shook it off and carried on:
it was just the island settling.

When fire rained down,
and smoke and ash filled the sky
we did nothing but watch,
as the air darkened.

We knew- in the back of our minds-
that the end was coming, and yet
we did nothing because what was there to do?

They will come in a hundred years
and see the green grass and
the beautiful, vibrant blossoms
and know nothing of the fire that destroyed us.

The rain descends
like a velvet curtain.

I use that steady
pounding, thrumming
downpour

to cleanse my skin
of your touch.

It fills me up, and I spit you out;
wring you out of my hair.

Thunder crashes
lightning flashes
and I
Let
you
go.

You go out late
at night, and i stay here,
picking up the pieces
of the mess you left behind.

(i am the mess you left behind
and i spend the night
picking up the broken
pieces of myself.)

**** it,
I'm strong,
independent,
and I'm my own
******* person

But ****,
I'm lonely.

I want
a hug? maybe?
the touch of
someone who cares
the comfort of affection

I crave
that warmth.

A cooling breeze
trickling in through the window
on a humid night

the lights outside
muffled by the drizzling rain,
the rustling trees

the comfortable warmth
of my bed, this blanket,
and your arms around me.

To crave affection
Is to crave-
To long for-
The display of love
And care.

To want affection,
One must first want
To be loved
And then want
To be shown that love.

To crave affection
Is to long for the knowledge
that one is loved and as much as
I shame myself for that craving
I can find no fault in it.

You are the center
of your own world.
You look forward and you
turn around and you
are still looking forward.

(Even if someone tells you
you’re facing backward,
to you it is still forward.)

You are your own
pivot point- the axis-
The pin in the paper.
When you stand
you stand still.

(Everything else around you
Will change and
Sometimes you change too
But you’re still you.)

Sometimes,
When you call out my name
And you smile and wave,
I smile because, well,
Why wouldn’t I smile?

But sometimes,
Hours later when I lie
Awake in bed and smile
To myself, I learn to hate
That smile.

Because you always,
always smile at me,
and never for me.
Never in the way
you smile for her.

My soul grows restless
though I grow weary
I wish for a peaceful adventure
to cure this aching want.

Before,
This was a home.
Now,
It is poison.

I want to breathe but
The air is toxic and
Your words- they are harsh-
Cut deep
and they hurt.

I want to sleep but
The monsters keep me awake.
They haunt
Only me.

I want to rest my
Weary, aching feet but
The chair, the sofa, the bed-
This house
is made
of Fire.

Before,
This was a home.
Now,
It is only poison.

All I want from life
is that when I smile
someone always smiles back

My heart pounds.
My lungs stutter,
chest tightens, hands shake.

Words echo
harsh and
loud like two drums off-beat.

I don't want
to listen
but they don't want to stop.

I want to go
where the sun is clear
and the air is fresh-
somewhere I can be at peace

If I could leave my soul behind
I would leave it here-
Where it could dream forever.

My bones ache
Like crumbling stone cliffs
Constantly battered
By a sea of exhaustion.

The bite of the cold
(Outside)
Is nothing compared to this
(your) Suffocating warmth
(I can’t stand it)

Oh.
You... and her.
Oh.
Well...
I'll just
smile and laugh

and keep your
smile
in the back of my
mind.

I'll just
push those
thoughts
away.

I wish I could
draw that smile
from your lips

I want to make you
laugh... and-
Oh, i dunno.

I want to hold
your hand
in mine.

I’m not religious

But sometimes i
see an angel in
the eyes of the little girl down the street.

I’m not religious but
Sometimes I find a bit of faith
In the kindness of others

I’m not religious
But sometimes i pray
To whoever is out there
To help me make it through the day

I’m not religious but sometimes
We all need a little bit of hope
And heaven.

Sometimes i just want
To curl up on
A cold, rainy day
And sink into
The arms of someone
Who loves me.

~
Heroes
They call you,
Heroes.
There's just something-
Something about that
Word.
~
I’ve got this special
Kind of magic,
And wouldn’t it be
Just awesome,
If I could be one-
A Hero-
Too?
~
I did my best.
And I defied you.
Disobeyed you.
I’m sorry
(but it was worth it).
I’m sorry.
~
I don’t want to leave.
I’m not ready to go
I don’t want to go.
Please.
Hold on.
Hold on for me.
Please don’t let me go.
~
I’m sorry.
I’m so sorry.

I tried.
I promise you, I tried.
I loved you and
You told me you loved me
And I knew you did.
And because I loved you
I let you go
And I knew
You were at peace.
At least for a little bit.
You were safe.
And I was hurting
And I wanted to scream.
I wanted to set the world on fire.
But you were not in pain,
And that was all I could ever ask for.

But then he came

And he brought you back.

And it hurt you.
You were in so much pain.
I could see it in your eyes.
Feel it in my soul.
And then you were gone.
Again.
But it was not a peaceful end.
And you were gone.
Gone for good.
And he won.
The monster we made with our loss.

And then I felt myself go.
And it was okay
Because I was with you-
My Love.
You were there,
And he was there,
Waiting for me-
          I could see him.
The other half of me.
And I was gone.
And my family
          My family.
They were hurting,
But I was at peace.

I hope they knew.

She sleeps
In the bright meadow
Under the sunny oaks,
maples, pines.

The darkness closes in.
Still,
She sleeps
And the guardian watches on.

in that dark room
Of shadowed histories

the Snake smiles,
and raises a glass-
the Blood on his hands
dripping onto clean cloth.

the Sparrow watches on;
Caged in her own regret.
her face is a blank Mask.

the Fawn gazes across a
would-be bright future.
trees and grasses Glow
With promise and dreams.

THEY run the World.
the rest of -us- suffer through;
raised by Hope,
cut down by Snakes.

Time passes
in seconds,
minutes,
hours.

People pass by-
day
by day
by day.

She sits, statuesque,
in the glowing light
of Dusk
waiting for the end.

yet...

An angel comes
on wings of red and gold.
He carries with him
a saving Grace.

i sat there for the
longest time.

In the dark-
in that small,
small space and

fabric rustled around me
with every shift and every
movement and change.

I watched, through
the small crack of light,
the shadows
dance and the soles of
shoes pass.

I tried to make sense
of their movements
the sounds that come
out of their mouths.

Their interactions.

After the longest time I
decided to stand up
from the floor
of that small, dark space.

Quietly,
I put my hand on
the ****, and it turned.

I crept out
of that space.
Timid, unsure.

I don't think
anyone noticed.
I'm glad.

I'm still not quite...

there yet.

What is
A soulmate?

is it someone who
knows
everything about you
without needing to be told?

Or is it someone who
completes you?

Are they supposed to be
your other half?

Do you need to be
completely
dependent
on each other?

Can a soulmate be
a friend?

Do you know exactly
who it is
the moment you meet them?

Do you only have one soulmate?
certainly there
(or somewhere).

What if you
aren't in
Love?

She stands,
A hand on his shoulder,
Under green-shadowed
Arches.

His tears flow freely-
Fallen petals on
Stone
Cold
Ground.

Indigo-ivory blossoms
Soak up
Despair.

You were like
that warm spring day in March.
You were my seventy degrees
the tulips poking through the ground
the first crocuses of the season.

You were the warm breeze
the shining sun.
You were my warmth
at the end of the winter.

but you were also a lie.

Because you became that snow
after snow
after snow
You were the less-than-thirty

The flowers froze
and crumbled.
The sun was still there
but it was a cold, harsh light.

You were kind and beautiful,
warm and bright,
but you were a lie.
You were my snowstorm in March.

They say when you hit
Rock
Bottom,
The only way left to go
Is up.
But what happens
When I reach
the top
of the mountain?
What happens
when there is no way
to reach higher?
is that my Limit?
When you reach the bottom,
the only way left to go
is up.
When you reach the top
Can you go no further?

I think
I’m crashing down.

You can pretend
That the black gloss
On my lashes
Will glue my eyes shut-
Make me blind to truth;
To ‘true knowledge.’
Go ahead.
Tell yourself
That my red-painted lips
Only spout nonsense.
It will only make it sweeter
When my wing-lined eyes
Give you whiplash
as I walk past you
To get my degree;
My award;
My paycheck.
Maybe if you’re ‘nice’
I’ll buy you an ice pack.

She had galaxies
In her eyes
And her tears
Were falling stars.

Be the ocean
Wild and free
Everchanging
And unrelenting

Be the storm
Calm at the center
A whirlwind
All around

Be the sun
Burning bright
Shining down
A source of Life

Be the night
Brilliant as the stars
But also the darkness
Helping them shine

Be the leaves
Flying away
At the whim of the breeze
Colors of the wind

Be brave
Be humble
Have courage
And Be kind

Be the changemaker
Be the change
You want
The world to be

Be whoever-
Whatever-
You want
To be

I was in the old sector of a city
one day
and I thought
of this boy
whom I might've
            liked
                to love
                      in another life.
I remember he told me
one day
he'd want to live
in the old part
of a big city.

I asked him why,
and in all honesty,
            I wouldn't be able to tell you his answer.
Walking through that neighborhood,
I think
I might've known why.

Modern cities
are full of culture
and people
and noise,
but the historic districts-
the original apartments
and bricks
and stones-
they have souls
and thousands
of memories.
Those buildings have witnessed
        history
in the making.

I tell people that I'm not 'nice'
and they immediately assume
I'm telling them
I'm mean.

What I meant to say is-
I'm not soft
or fluffy
or flowery.

But I like to think
I'm good
and that I do
good things.

I'm honest
and I'll always tell you
what I think you need to hear
whether you want to
or not.

and I'll always be there
whether you're looking for me
or not,

but I won't whisper
fake, meaningless, sweet
nothings
into your ear.

I won't pretend I like
the way you
insult people's love
or appearance
or culture.

And I won't pretend
to be who I'm not.
Just to make you think
I'm a 'Nice' Girl.

bold?
/italics/?
"Normal"
bold* /italics/?
Someone
please
explain

I’d like to think
That as a person,
I am good;
That I do good things.

But sometimes,
As I lie awake at night,
I count my blessings
And I count
My sins.

I’ll never be the ‘nice’ girl
Clean and pure like fallen snow,
But I will burn away the hate
And any demons you may know.

I promise that I’ll be here
When the darkness hurts your heart
I will glow, burn, and light the way
Because ‘pretty’ can’t match art.

I’ll burn with the rage of fire
But I won’t be your glowing moon,
I do not love nor give trust freely,
But it’s strongest when I do.

You might only see my shielded heart
And my ever-guarded soul,
But find the crack and then
I’ll be yours- eternal, broken, whole.

I’ll never be the nice girl
Because I’m ‘better’ than just nice-
Because my fire burns the brightest
And I’ll be willing to pay their price.

Paint me a picture
Show me the world
Through Color and beauty
It never grows old.

Draw me as I am
Freeze me in time
Capture the moment
Leave the Past behind.

Sculpt and carve
Build up and chip away
Make something that will stay here
Stand Tall and never sway

Create something, anything
A picture or a memory
Remember forever
Keep it safe for me.

Look into my broken eyes
And thus wholly truthful be:
Did you love “us” truly?
Or only the idea of “me”?

L i s t e n   f o r   t h e   s o u n d   o f   a   b r o k e n   h e a r t ,

C a l l i n g   f o r   a   s i g n   o f   l o v e .

G a z e   i n t o   t h e   e y e s   o f   a   s h a t t e r e d   s o u l ,

S e e k i n g   h e l p   f r o m   u p   a b o v e