"I wonder if a
watermelon would explode
in the camp fire?"

The watermelon
was placed in the fire. There
was no explosion

just some very warm
watermelon. No one died
Surprisingly.

A small and gratuitous thank you
to every single one of you
who read my absent minded emotions
that I plaster among the fields of great poetry.
A gracious acknowledgement
to the best friends
who listen to me say the same things
over and over
about the same boy
and his beautiful hands
and his leaving for Germany.  
A sincere recognition to the new friends
who tolerate my abnormality
and hang with me through the spontaneity
of midnight conversations through
binary code of chat functions.
A sincerest gratitude
to the mother who carried me through
the hard winter
when anxiety made me heavy
with the weight of my worries.
Who now shares happy afternoons
garden beds
and chai tea on the front porch.
To everyone in my life
who witnessed my darkest hours
and sunniest peaks.
To every single person who has trekked the terrain
of my unpredictable personality
and sarcastic biting words
my cruelty and arrogance
my sleep deprived, half assed attitude
my unpredictable pickiness
and my constantly changing tastes.
You have seen me at my worst
and stayed strong by my side
so now I am proud to share with you my best.
To everyone who helps me get through the day
Thank you.

Once upon a past time
I hated the way I looked.
Every ounce of fat that clung to me
like a needy child
was more than just weight to bare.
Once, I walked past every mirror I saw
not daring to face
what I might find in the reflection.
Once, I glared at every curve and fold
that I found in the canvas of my skin
wishing for the synonymous
thin
beautiful.
Once, I hated myself
simply because.

I stand taller now
I hold my shoulders back
I flaunt every curve and fold
I am proud of every ounce of my body
simply because.

Imagine a world
Where words are not a facet
Of communication
Where language
Is no longer a barrier
Where people speak in music.
Not in lyrics that are poetically
Formed by the hand
Of a well penned composer.
Free flowing lyric less melodies
Communication with a
Chromatic scale.
No stumbling over words
Just the emotion flows from your mouth in a song.
The happiness of light and flowering
Classical music
Mozart.
The bubbly energy of
Jazz, Swing
The peppy beats of
Pop without lyrics
To tie it to one culture exclusively
The sadness of
Alternative
The intensity of
Metal
Every emotion conveyed
In the purest form of music
No words to express meaningless
And arbitrary concepts
That were created by words themselves.
Imagine a world
Where the hindrance of words is replaced by the simplistic beauty
Of music.

Health teacher
blindly reading off the slides
of a powerpoint.
"Don't Have *** Kids!"
"Pregnancy"
"STD's"
"Abstinence"
Perhaps if they took a break
from the negativity.
Perhaps if they stood back
and realized that
gasp
preaching abstinence isn't the solution.
The only reason for the
"Pregnancy"
"STD's"
is that they don't teach us
how to practice *** safely.
They make no mention of
Condoms
Diaphragms
Pills
They tell you over and over again
that if you have ***
there will be children
there will be ***
there will be ******.
They make no mention of anything
other than the cis straight white vanilla ***
they leave the *******
off of all the diagrams of vaginas
out of fear that maybe a woman could
gasp
******!
Preposterous!
They preach victim blaming.
They tell the girls
to stay sober
to never put your drink down
long pants
turtlenecks
Instead of teaching the boys
to keep their erections in their pants.
to treat women like humans
that no means no
she is not an object
she did not "deserve it"
she didn't owe you anything.
Ignorance isn't bliss
and Abstinence isn't safety.

This is an apology
to all the friends I made
under false pretenses
in the third grade.
I beg forgiveness for the lies that I told
because I was an ignorant nine year old
who had no friends
and wanted to be important
more than anything.
I spun lies
and fed them
to unsuspecting children
on the playground.
I told myself that they were stories.
I forgave myself
every **** time.
With every word that slid off my tongue
I imagined the countless hours I spent
alone
and deemed my stories
an acceptable alternative
to loneliness.
This is an apology
for all the lies I told
to try and convince myself
more than anyone else
that I was interesting.
And for the friends who stayed with me
who waded through an ocean
of dishonest answers
to innocent questions.
Thank you.
You found the real me under a cocoon
I wove for my fragile ego.
This is a promise
for a future devoid of lies.

There are flowers in my garden.
Hyacinth
Tulip
Verbena
Daffodils.
Not enough
to make a bouquet
but there will be soon.

When you are angry
do not slit your wrists
Slit something that deserves it
like rotten pumpkins
tomatoes that refuse to turn red
burnt toast
ungrateful pieces of blank paper
clay embodiments of your enemies.

When you are happy
bottle it up.
Spread your love
but don't spread yourself too thin.
Save some for yourself
for when you feel like
a pile of petrified dog **** on a sidewalk.
And smile
because you're beautiful.

When you feel empty
scream
cry
punch
run
put out everything you've got.
Listen to music that's full of passion
splatter canvasses with color
scream words that
would make your parents angry
and sailors proud.
Make yourself feel alive.

When you feel sad
read a happy book
listen to happy music
watch a happy movie.
Keep moving forward
because you're mistakes are arbitrary
and anyone who hurt you
is a pile of petrified dog **** on a sidewalk
and you are walking away.

When you feel anxious
control your breathing.
lie down
close your eyes
listen to calming noises
wash your hands in warm water
with soap that smells just right
until you feel better.
Please feel better.

When you feel in love
let them know.
Waste no time trying to be chased
trying to be coy.
Tell them you love them
because life is too **** short
to have regrets.

When you feel
rejoyce.
because
the world is more beautiful
when it is tainted
with your feelings.

Life is frail and futile.
Life is an accessory
To a universe
Independant of our actions
A human life is but a second.
That ends before you reach the end
Of a sentence.
And is over when you least expec-

Six
Seven
Eight
High schoolers.
A cloudy sky above them
Confined into a corner
Painted on pavement.
A playground ball
Bouncing between them
As the joke and laugh
And yearn
For the days
When we still had recess.