I awoke today soaking wet

last night in my dream I drowned

from tears and sweat.

Swimming in life

avoiding the deep end

the waters were ***** too,

I guess from sin.

Thankfully, I found the edge

now I can breathe again.

A B C D F...what defines us?
Stupid letters staring at me screen, I never knew a letter could scare me.
Why am I so strung out?
The little letter gives me anxiety
migraines, back aches, sleep deprivation.

A is for Acceptable
B is for Barely okay
C is for Cannot believe how stupid you are!
D is for don't bother coming home
F is for Failed out of this life.

I can do it.
I can do it.
I can do it.
Can I do it?
Can I do it?
Can I do it?
I cannot do it.
I cannot do it.
I cannot do it.

Tell me one more time why it is worth it?
College? Intellectual? Brilliant?
Can I still have that without the perfect little letter?

One more night writing this paper.
One more Algebra problem.
One more History report.

My will is breaking.
I stay up day and night crying.
I forgot how to relax.

Thank you to my little letters
for forever defining who I am.

brace yourself for the new day as

it twists
you around and

  breaks
your
   bones.



Life can nearly **** a man

  but

so far we’ve survived.




                             - j. lauren

Before air became gas
And water waste;
Before light became lasers
And fireworks cannons;
Before cars got wings
And trucks got tracks;
Before rafts were raiding ships
And we breathed underwater;
Before sticks were arrows and spears
And we exalted ourselves;
Before Empires rose and fell
And rose and fell,
A femur crushed Cro magnon's skull.
It's a marvel
How any of us
Are here
At all.

i don't understand how people think
cigarettes can fill the void, or how
alcohol can **** the anxiety
"buy art not *******"
i'll buy art and *******
if it means
time was a childhood myth and
mona lisa was in love with leornado da Vinci
you need to know
how much the carousel
misses the children
how the lights still flicker
how the music still cracks
just in case
i don't know where i'm going with this
i just thought
home is where you are
at the ****** house
or under the northern lights
home is where you are
home is where you are

The older I get 
the less the word terminal bothers me.
I put my worries in a box called god 
and when my faith is weak 
I dump them out and burn them 
on the altar of my ego,
scraps of worded paper 
up in flames, 
legal words, ugly words, 
kindling of the heart words, 
words that wreak havoc 
on the innocent.

I burn them all 
but never learn

I put my worries in a box called god

within me and through me
around above and below me
I no longer wish to escape
to a life of non-existence
To run and hide in the
city or suburbia
where you would find me out
and lead me back to the desert

and late at night
when i'm half out of my mind
with clouds dancing in my head and the
sweet taste of wine on my lips
fumbling through my purse
looking for a cig to burn away the feelings.

through the fog and the clouds
i still only think of one thing
and one thing alone
its you
it's always you
no matter what

i called you in the middle of the night only to hear your voice
before hanging up
why does it have to be like this
i miss you i miss you i miss
i really miss you

I sit and stare at a photograph
Or two or three
Or every picture that he saw fit to gift to me
And my gaze lingers in those hazel eyes
Losing myself in half-awake dreams at 4 a.m.
What if, and then
So let's say we are fated
Pulled and connected like the strongest of magnets
Mind to mind and heart to heart
Knowing that there is a freedom in that kind of unity
Believing, without choice, that we own the best pieces of each other
Still, what if isn't what is
What is isn't what could be
What could be is just another
What. if.
So I stare into those hazel eyes at 4:22 a.m.
And I wonder, if for him, I could overlook the cigarettes and stale coffee
Remnants of a history that has been unkind
Leave it to me to love a man
Who smells like the first one to **** me
But here at 4:30 a.m. I can believe
I can believe he smells like the earth after a winter rain
And I can believe, that to him, I smell like heaven
Lost in that sweetness
Captured on a phone
A thousand miles away
I can feel his skin on mine
His breath in my ear
Saying nothing and everything all at once
Here in the dark at 4:38 a.m., I can know beyond doubt
That he is where my heart is
With no rhyme or reason
I know, that should I ask
He would give me all of him
And I know this
As I sit here
Staring at a picture
Or two, or three
Or every picture that he saw fit to gift to me
As I stare into those hazel eyes
Losing myself in half-awake dreams
at 4:43 a.m.