If there's a way out of this thick dead skin, show me.
If there's a way to be alive despite my thick dead skin, I need to know.
If there's a way to slice through this thick dead skin, hand over a thick sharp blade.
If there's a way out of this thick dead skin, I'll find us again.

at fifteen, words hovered wherever i went.
at seventeen, the words appeared only in the darkest places.
at eighteen, it had fizzled out and appeared in a storm.
at twenty, it is all just out of reach.

but that is up to me.

to all the writers i met before,
to the strangers behind the screen,
you nurtured what i had to offer to the world.
at that age, you made my 'hopefully' the reality.

what i hid from everyone, you witnessed.

today, i would grab every word i can until
eventually, they make sense.

I'm glad I was too big for your box of lies.
I'm glad I didn't fit in.
Hopefully I don't shrink so you
don't shove me inside.

Triangles are polygons but you tell me they're round...
and I believe you.

There's more to everything than straight lines.

Beautiful's an adjective but you tell me it's a noun...
and I don't doubt you.

You tell me I make flat words come alive.

The sky is black at night but you tell me day is darker...
and you convinced me.

At day, even the brightest lights don't shine.

Rationality impressed me but now it's so absurd.
You and your false statements, but all truer than true.

A world with people and daily lies,
Rushing people day and night,
but so many truths left behind.

All the evil we try to hide
still reveals itself to the outside.
We hold it and we do try
but lies, like oil on water
Still float to rise.

i reached the peaks of my sadness a few times this week
once because i miss her
twice because im transferring
thrice because i failed
four times because my mom hates me
five times because i want to die
six times because i am alone
seven times because im begging to get
my life back together

just drop the shovel
you are not a dead person
it's not your turn yet

see my angsty pout?
i will never be enough
but i was before

is it my fault you stopped shining
when i took you in my hands?
why you stopped burning so bright
and undeserving of your glance?

I'm not what you want to see
but I won't try to change for you.
What you see is only me
and I am who I want to be.

I won't shed the colors of my skin
for these are my only hues.
We are the same but you are not my twin
and I'm the sole owner of my sins.

The market of lives which doesn't exist
so I can't trade with those I wish
but living this life with no regrets
is the greatest battle I can never resist.

Step in the warm sea,
Sit still in the shallow parts...
You'd never swim deep.

I'm used to myself and not getting help because I'm way up the
shelf and none of you can reach.

I try to talk, I break the walls that build up again so no one can breach.

I set my moods on fire so I can say that I'm not tired,
so I can say that I'm fine and I don't cry sometimes at night.

Funny how I water down the frown forming on my face,
set my lips to a sincere smile and it's the best lie I don't have to say.

People surround me and they laugh too, but they're all corpses designed to look like clowns:

watering down their frowns and putting on a facade of youth and energy.

I know they're tired, too.

I know they too suffer from the same pretense I have to go through when I'm not being me.

the weather's amazing
my wallet's not empty
i have good company
i've never gone hungry
roof above my head
healthy and not dead


but where are you?

The world is something I inconsistently love yet when it's you? There's no time to stop loving you at all.

There's something I'm itching to write
but I bite my lips and grip the pencil tight.

Nothing comes to mind.

I write this sentence but it doesn't sound quite right, it doesn't quite capture the essence of tonight.

I stare at the wall, then back at the paper where no words land. My thoughts make my hair stand and I want people to understand.

But my hand doesn't move.

So I sit back and write about not knowing what to write.

I wish I could write just as easily as my breath flows.

Your heat and mine, in the spaces between our palms and fingers,
in the closeness of our tangled legs on the cold floor,
in the wholeness I feel after a long embrace,
in the light striking your brown eyes,
in the contact of your hand to my face, your thumb stroking my cheek,
and the world melts around us,
beyond the point of your heat and mine.