"do you believe in God?"
I asked her.
"No. I am not religious."

"I believe in the universe."
I said.

"I believe
in believing."
she replied.

and when she
said this she
looked up to
the sky

but we were inside-
so this would be
the ceiling..

..and waved her
arms about
so beautifully
like a thousand
pieces of fluttering
paper in the air.

"whatever makes you
look up."
"I guess."
"or believe- in your case."
I managed to utter back.

"you have to believe."
she said to me.
"whether it's God, or the universe,
or yourself; believe in something."

"what if you believe
in nothing?"
I asked.

"well that's simple."
"nothing is still
something."

"so that's something
to believe in."

I want to wear myself
inside out
spill out what I feel on the inside
on my inner beliefs and ideations
all the conversations I could have
if I wasn't wearing a t shirt and jeans

if only I wore my
opinions like rings
on my fingers
and sport my values
on the soles of my shoes

my head flowing with
ideas and I could let my hair down,
fluid// flowing// with tendrils of readings and teachings

my wardrobe filled with hangers
of clothing repressing theories and
hypothesis

dress myself in principles and prospects and proofs

we do this instead by expressing ourself through our dress
and underneath brand names
we hide what we're about

instead I want to turn
myself
inside out

I hate to say I told
you so
but I am doing better without
you...

you remember how you once said
you hated me?
remember how you once said I was insane, mentally ill, and crazy.

well I am all those things except they don't define me as a person

you're crazy too and it's likely that
we share that same hate
it's okay, I can relate

except I separate all the good and the bad and it makes me sad
all that we've been through
it's left an impression

a scar set as a reminder
of the endless fights
the drugs
the late nights

I'm sorry.
but I'm just better off without you.
and you're better off without me
the rest?
just let it dissolve
let us rewrite our own history.

I still believe there is good
in everyone.
even the most evil

I think it started
slow where sliding down
the esophagus the hallucinogenic
melds with the pills and meds
melts with the elements
around us

and I know we all
can't help but feel
like we're  sitting on a notion meditating
on a thought

but I refuse to be a
tragic backdrop to your
midnight sky

I think it started
With those deep entrancing eyes.
remember THAT
so when we judge the worst people in the world
remember that they're all bad
for very different reasons

that they all started off slow
I swear.
but somewhere rushed it all
somewhere things went awry
and I still believe there is good in
everyone

Reason 1. We are born equal
Reason 2. We all tried our best
Reason 3. We failed to meet the expectations

maybe because no one believed we could be good enough
maybe because no one cared.
And we rushed through life on auto pilot

no there are no bad seeds
Just beautifully grown trees and
Iridescent waters in which we stare at our reflections
a ripple effect of expectations

and I cast a stone across the surface of the sea
there is good bad
black and white
right and wrong

but I still believe.

I want to be the graduating
class
of we ******* made it

despite the trials and tribulations
I want to scream and throw up my cap
say that was well worth it

that those endless all nighters
the coffee *** on
my walk to class iPod on
blast songs

of inspiration
of that serious dedication
stacks of books and notes
post its and reminders

binders
spiral bound
college ruled

schooled on all
walks of life
on all types of wrong and right

all the mistakes I want to erase
and refunds for the W's and F's
what's left?
but to tell myself it's all ok.

black and blue bics
papers double spaced
**** it I want to be the best I can be

class of the underdogs
the freaks the ones who thought they'd never make it

the class of we *******
we made it.

thanks for being here.
today you are born again.
today you are alive.

struggling through
another day,
another
decade.

-it does get better
I
promise.

and I can't say I love you
because I don't.
but someone out there
does.

even if it's mom, or dad,
or a distant relative.

if you feel like giving up again,
please don't.
if you're thinking about ending it all;

tonight
or possibly tomorrow
hang in there just a little
longer

even with
palms sweaty,
arms aching,
callused skin...

pick yourself up.
no- not a weapon
or a razor
or comfort food- those cookies

sitting on the kitchen counter.

you don't need em'
I
promise.

get up and look at yourself.
yeah. in the mirror.

and repeat aloud, "I love myself."
repeat this until you believe.
promise
me.

if you are happy-
truly happy,
not with all the material *******
but truly happy with yourself-

with your virtues and values,
I applaud you.

but you deserve a standing ovation
either way.
for showing up for life.
you made it-
thank yourself for being alive.