sometimes i dream
of stained glass windows and the setting sun, gleaming.
of coffee and shared silence in a kitchen, messy.
of fingers laced and rain pouring steadily, sweetly.
of ***** clothes and dust, books that barely fit on the shelf.

sometimes i imagine
the water running.
your face in the mirror.
steam clouding over.

sometimes i wish
for night to be less lonely,
for morning to be lively,
for the day to feel too short,

sometimes.

shame used to bleed out of me
vulnerability an open wound
i desperately tried to hide

until i found i could stand it no longer
and buried the emotion behind smiles and laughter
acting as though i hide nothing in my heart

sometimes
the point

isn’t that i will be okay.

sometimes
the point

is that right now


im not.

i think i’ve realized i don’t like living alone.

maybe what i was seeking was just a sense of peace. the quiet that comes with it is oppressive most days.

i think what i really want is the feeling of being near someone without it feeling like a battle,
without having to claw my way through anxiety.

where the self doesn’t seek to move it just stays content in the space with another person

to feel complete in my own skin
bare, unafraid.

i am starting to think it won’t ever go away
the foundation has been laid too strong
sunken deep, bricks piled upon years

the feeling of my skin is distant from inside
untethered to my being
returns each night to lay itself across my body, smothering

i wrap myself in it like a cloak
close my eyes, breathe in the familiar weight

I don’t want to just be a respite for other people’s emotions
To only feel worthy when in service
But I don’t know where or how to draw the boundary
Struggling with each stab of guilt
When I ignore my instincts towards another’s pain
Empathy is a skill I built out of necessity to survival
I perhaps think I should not have made it so sharp

The anger must first be acknowledged before it will subside.

A mirror, a duplicate
The image of myself preserved inside
My minds eye, as I wonder
If what I see is what is visible
Not two halves but two forms
The truth, or is it only perceived
As an upheld expectation
Lifted higher than the sun
Brought close to my chest

fragile and out of place

taking a breath and your chest is too big
the air doesn’t reach your lungs

and the world feels infinitely large
but contained within you swelling

it’s quiet inside, underneath
the clamoring shouting voices silent, still

you feel weightless
you feel solid
you feel peaceful

am i being too quiet?
am i responding like i should?
do you find me distracting or frustrating and distant?

did i say that right? or was it too much?
if i stopped saying anything would it be then enough?

is my hair in my face?
my outfit out of place?
does it matter i don’t look the way i feel like i should?

did i get it wrong this time?
did i get it right?
why is the compulsion for judgement so strong

is there meaning in this?
do you even care?
if ended tomorrow would the stars come and see?

have seen how you move?
have you felt why you cry?
do you wish for anything or to just say goodbye?

and the only way i ever felt close to people was the press of my hands in their open wound
stemming the flow of blood
the warmth of their pain giving me a way in
around the ice enveloping me

so i dug my hands in, felt every tear of their heart
held their head as they wept and lent on my shoulder
drinking in the ghost of intimacy in those moments

the blood spilling over my fingers felt like fire to my frozen limbs
burning and alive
i didn’t care, didn’t notice as it scorched my flesh
overjoyed at a sensation other than numbing cold

Seen from a far off field
like a dream fading into distance,
beneath the surface of waking thought.

You do not find this thing
you are looking for,
you must find the place it is built.

For there is where you will make your peace with it,
learn to hold its hand
through the lonely night
when all else has gone to sleep.

I pick out all the pretty colors just for you. Wear them on my sleeve, bright and shining.
I grew a heart just for you. Just for them.
I grew a heart with their help. Watered it, nurtured it, watched it blossom.

I held on to what I could when the storm came through. In the moving, in the chaos, lost what was planted.
I felt nothing but loose strings and empty bottles, rolling through the house. Built up around the wreckage, pulling in the walls, stapling the floorboards.

From afar it still looks like a house. But it’s built on corks and bottle caps that I hide the   number of. In its center sits the space that remind of which I cannot mend.

And this is it
Do you want to know
the way the world turns?
The way the universe spins
past galaxies and stars,
shattering and reforming.
Endlessly.

How should we count
the falling of the stars
in a glass that does not break.

Do you feel the breath
of the imposter
burning down your neck?
Holding over you
like fire and flame.

All this and more
yet you still do not find it’s meaning.

you mourn for the things others have.

a young love, reciprocated.
the feeling of being wanted and wanting.

dinner dates and laying out under the stars.
being able to hold hands.

knowing that you have someone waiting to see you.

romanticized ideals of love, undoubtedly,
yet things you never came close to having.

you mourn for the things you watched others have,
because you know you will not have them.

we talk and laugh and make jokes
and the whole time
it’s like there’s this under current
beneath my feet
threatening to pull me out
pull me down

if i’m not careful
if i stop treading water
if i let down my guard
i get swept out to sea

and have to spend ages
swimming back in
to safety

easier to just keep my guard up
keep treading
don’t look down
don’t let yourself fall

up and down
forever falling

peaks and valleys
never reaching

crests and waves
always breaking

silly blue bird
don’t you know
warmth and laughter
have no end

you cannot divide it
like chocolate
to be carefully parceled out
and unlike chocolate
when you run out

you simply make more

A tragedy of the world and passage of time
of things that disappear from memory,
a pain i can not fathom.

The ones that die raging in the night,
that are unspoken for
or unheard.

The language of a people,
no longer spoken.

The traditions of a nation,
no longer practiced.

The culture of a family,
erased by time.

Things that have been eradicated
beyond life
and can never be reborn.
Things once so precious
that are almost entirely gone from the world.

How do you reconcile the genocide of a culture?

i walk around and i feel like a caricature of myself
playing at someone i’m supposed to be

ask a stranger on the street “who do you see me as”
and i’ll perform magnificently

you ask how i am
and the first thought through my head is how should i feel in this moment

not how do i feel
how should i feel

this is the lens through which my life is screened
acting as the world wants me to be
trying to make everyone happy
and somehow never for myself

Ticking, ticking, endless clicking
Time goes on, nothing sticking
Clunking, thunking, the wheel keeps spinning
Motion forward, circles beginning

Step step drip drip
Flowing falling catching calling
Leaving seeing, end of meaning

the silence at night,
when the house is quiet
and i have not spoken in hours,
overwhelms my mind

and i have to fight to convince myself i exist
when there is no one to acknowledge my existence
no voice to break the silence
no laughter to fill the empty space

It is as if I had been swimming along a river all my life, guided by the banks
when I was suddenly thrown into the ocean without a shore to lead me.
And the vast unknown is unsettling, wide, and deep.

I forget that I can swim.
Or perhaps I am tossed by currents I did not know existed.

And on days, I even forget that it is in fact the water that keeps me alive,
and I feel that I am drowning, searching for air.

i want to fall apart in someone’s arms,
breaking. shattering. crying. safe.
i want to know what is it like to fully give my weight to another,
without worrying about the impact.

hope is a double edged sword
it keeps you alive
as you bleed out
from a thousand cuts

how do you dream
when failure crowds your vision

i can’t find what i’m looking for
i want this loneliness to go away

i can’t find who i am looking for
please make this loneliness disappear

the white flower
perfection dancing in the wind
peel back the petals
it’s rotting underneath

beg
beg for it to disappear
a hollow cry no one will hear

tear at the roots
dig into the molding leaves and sunken earth
to grasp at the core

your hands pull up something
they pull up nothing

you will not find what you are looking for here

If there is one thing
I know with any certainty,
It is that I will find my way.

Predictions tell me that the road
will be entangled with thorns,
scratches along the skin.
Some cut deeper than others
piercing, aching
impossible to remove.

I will find my way.

Along the path
the air will be heavy at times.
Smoke, thick and dark
covering, obscuring.
Breathe carefully,
it can be fatal.

I will find my way.

Rivers winding
among the trees,
faint lines of water.
Thundering bodies, overpowering.
Wait for them to die down,
or beg for a lifeline to grasp unto.

I will find my way.

There may be fields
of open grass,
green, bright and joyful,
golden, gentle and peaceful.
Sit a moment, enjoy.
Stay not too long.

I will find my way.

Night will creep in
from time to time
Long, dark, suffocating.
I pray the moon will guide me,
quietly, consistently.

Day will burst in
moving too quickly
Blinding, chaotic, relentless.
I pray the sun will be merciful,
lightly, comforting.

If there is one thing
I know with any certainty
through the long and rapid years,
I will find my way.

Mirrors and islands
Mirrors and islands
are all that I see

And the static fills my mind
eats it up like silence

It hums a constant note
glaring in and out
audible, barely
deafening.

The static fills my mind
and devours everything beneath it

I read once about an ancient practice
to repair broken things

They would take the shattered pieces
of bowls, jars, glasses, pottery,
and fill the sharp cracks with liquid gold

Translucent, shimmering lines
along jagged edges.
Highlighting the imperfections.

Showing that in life,
that which has been broken,
may be made beautiful all the same.

deepest fears hide
behind veils and stone.
gruesome horrors
that only certain eyes can see

the shape that stares back
illuminates the ragged edges
of inner terror

we search for those whose eyes
have stared into the same darkness,
those who understand.
who bleed with the same knowledge
born from self made truths.

gallows humor is only funny
to those who have the same eyes as you

i left that place,
called home and haven
and a piece of me broke off.
lost, in the disarray of moving

leaving untethered threads
in the empty space
of that safety

i feel the ghost of its presence
moving through the halls.
fading laughter, greetings,
remnants of the warmth that used to envelope me when i crossed the threshold

blindly, grasping at air
i search for the piece
i once had, in silent wishes
and hopeless longing

it’s unfair really
that every spare thought in my head
is still of you

you’ve long since moved on.
i often feel i meant nothing
but my heart remains
wishing

idiot girl.
stop dreaming.
the past is done
it is what it is

but still

i cannot **** that last bit of hope
that part i do not want to die
i fear if i do
a part of me will die as well

and yet

i cannot shake the belief
that i am just another name
while you
are the only person i’ve ever loved

unfair really
leaving me like that

shouldn’t have surprised me though
you can’t change who someone is
and at my core
i’m nothing special

dreaming

in quiet moments
i find myself wishing.
for a future,
i feel i will never own.

a garden
green things growing.
the scent of dirt,
heavy in the air.
and bright spots of color
resting everywhere.

a kitchen
carefully labeled jars.
spices we’ve tested.
the favorites dwindle,
showing our collective tastes.

a wall
covered with paintings.
blues, yellows.
bright and dark.
all showing pieces,
of parts that make us whole.

a morning
slow, unhurried.
a feeling of contentment.
brought with the sun,
and a love shared.

in the quiet moments
before the dream,
wisps away.
i find myself wishing.

there are night where i cling to nothing
hoping it will bring comfort
to the absence in my chest

there are days where i smile robotically
hoping no one will notice
i’m convincing myself to be happy

there are nights that i lie awake
hoping the dim light of my phone
will exhaust me enough to sleep

there are days that i wander aimlessly
hoping i find a purpose
in the passing activities of time

good food
laughter
the witty banter between close friends who know you well

music playing
smiles
drinks passed around as conversation flows

fire flickering
smoke
chocolate and marshmallow leaving smears on hands and mouths

cool air
embers
long talks about everything and nothing that go well into the night

i can ask for nothing more
and if i were to have only this for the rest of my life
i would be satisfied

It’s a creeping sensation
in the back of my mind,
clinging, whispering.
A soft unending doubt that I can never fully drown out.

It rises and falls in strength,
moving like waves on the water,
ever constant.
Gently rocking, some days
Roaring, for hours
In minutes, overpowering.

The sun and the moon
smile kindly at me in turn,
easing the burden as they come and go.
Neither can stay for long, however.

The relentless, endless waves
that pull at my feet return,
dragging whispers in with the tide
on an island surrounded by ocean.

the sun
bees, flowers
love, happiness
shining, brilliant, dazzling spotlight


bright, startling, overpowering
it does not grace me
it burns, a mockery of emotion

empty
stone
ice
a mirror with the center smashed out
broken glass lying around, dim and glittering

veil
shadow
lights out
this curtain call means the play has just begun

misdirection
smile
laughter
keep the bright lights spinning, eyes focused away, look away

iron
steel
strength
appearances are really all that matter, apply another layer of paint to that wall

stop
falter
doesn’t matter
in the end, people only see what they want to

Hold your smile, don’t let it slip
You’re perfect aren’t you?
How could you be sad.

Keep the appearance
You always go to class
You always do your homework
You never fail

Careful now, your mask is slipping
You’re perfect aren’t you?
Bad days aren’t for you

Don’t fall behind now
You’re always kind to people
You’re always there to help
You never feel alone

Why are you crying,
You’re perfect
Aren’t you?

I am going to die.
I am going to die.
I am going to die.

I            am                going                 to             die

Iamgoingtodie

I
am
going
to
die

I. am. going. to. die.

I. am. going. to. die.

I'm going to die

im going to die


im going to die



i will die

on the edge of a cliff
the wind blowing steadily at my back
the path ahead precariously thin

another step, and the ground shall disappear
into a tightrope pulled taut
across the empty space beneath

tilting, breathing;
i am a moment away from losing my balance

at the end, fog.
shapes form but everything blurs
moving indiscriminately with the wind

behind me, the way is shut
forever.

before me, i search for courage to go forward

Alone in the open sky
condemned to an endless circle.
You can only rise and fall,
watching the Earth grow and bloom without you.

It-- He-- She-- They need you, the Earth.
Need your steady motion like a heart beat
that pulls the waves in, and out,
in, and out,
in, and out.

It is nice to be needed.
You find a sense of purpose in it, a calling.
An assurance of your existence.

And yet, need cannot fill the space between you;
empty, yawning space,
invisible, impenetrable.

You cannot break from your path around the Earth.
You can only watch as it-- he-- she-- they
bloom, flower, and fade,
bloom, flower, and fade.

“don’t wish too far, don’t lose sight of who you are”

turn your thoughts away from love
shove all sense of hope you might have down

don’t feel, smile and pretend you don’t wish

keep your head up as you move on
forget what it felt like and come back to reality

don’t think, laugh and pretend you don’t dream

put your heart away,
back in the box where it lives
on a shelf that you don’t open and pretend doesn’t exist

See me, please see me
the cracks in my shell are small
and I try with all my might
to cover them, erase them

but please

See me
from what little light they give

Too perfect to be human
but
too human to be perfect