I think I've found,
For the very first time,
It may be my head, not my heart,
Who isn't ready

All of my best poems
Are about you.

How am I supposed to know what to say,
When you're so impossibly hard to read?

I say I'll regret you till the end of time,
But truly I pray for one more minute of yours.

Crack my spine grind my bones
My body has never been my own
Set fire to my skin
Watch how it makes me dance
Whisper in my ear, as if I have a chance
Take what little is left
Use it for your own
I'm already your puppet
My body is not my home.

I'll do this silly dance with you,
Hoping that your promises do come true.

I am not a disposable library,
Of information for you to borrow,
But never return.

Even when I'm tired, and all the memories,
have begun to fade,
My words will bleed you onto the page.
Even when the heartache finally, oh finally,
starts to slip away,
My words will bleed you onto the page.
Even when I can feel your hand in mine,
But cannot picture your sweet face,
My words will bleed you onto the page.

I do not think there shall ever be a time,
In your existence, or in mine,
When my words do not bleed you onto a page.
I'll write you into every history,
Every love story,
Every poem.
So that even when we are all dead and gone,
No one will ever forget you.

I find myself reading more and more
Autobiographies
In a desperate attempt to find
Someone who feels the same pain as I do.

Maybe my poems would be happier,
If I thought our future were brighter

There's an odd temptation in her eye,
Lord, how I wish to catch it

I've spent a year
Loving you
With nothing in return.

I think it's time to stop.

The one nice thing
About being utterly devastated
Is it gives you plenty
To write about.

Never make a person your home because
One night you'll have come home later and
You're tired and it's pouring and
You're cold and shivering but
They have changed the locks.

I'm stumbling
        Stumbling
           Tumbling
               Down a path of no return
You have lead me astray,
   Pushed me down the rabbit hole,
      With no rope to pull myself back up.
                            As I freefall I can't help but
     Let the thoughts consume my mind.
Will this dark tunnel end in Wonderland?
                                                                    Or will it leave me in Neverland?

A house isn't a home when
You're not around it.
A plane isn't a bird when its
Grounded.
You've left my heart confounded
You can't stay but I can't go
What is left I don't know
I know this story
Its sad but true
You'll never choose me but
I'll always choose you.

I would gladly ruin my sleep schedule every night,
To speak with you,
But you would rather just say "good bye."

I splash my face with chilled water,
Hoping the shock will freeze you out of my heart.
I take scalding showers,
To try and burn your touch from my body,
Where I can still feel your hands linger.
I drag the razor along my legs where you once kissed,
Shaving away pieces of you, letting the metal bite into my skin,
Hoping I can bleed you out of my soul.

"So I'll probably **** myself,"
I said to you,
"But not until I'm 21 and can stain my lips red
And drink for real
And get so drunk I'll dance right off a cliff.
The rocks at the bottom will hug me so tight I'll split right open.
And then I'll never be able to hide any of it
It'll all be there for you to see.
Bleeding out."
You looked at me and all you said was
"Okay."

What a strange thing it is,
To be so full of sorrow,
And yet be so painfully empty

I'll spend forever,
Wondering if I could loved you better.

If I had known that would have been goodbye,
Maybe I wouldn't have left so fast,
I would have kissed your cheek,
Squeezed your hand,
Sunk into your hug a little deeper.
But now you're down in Texas,
And I'm here in Minnesota, alone.

You're like a red wine stain
On a white carpet;
You never seem to go away.

She had this beautiful face. The kind of face which should have made her a "Popular Girl." But she wasn't. She didn't "fit in" because she liked rock more than country and wore black skinny jeans instead of blue and because at that party she wouldn't sleep with the quarterback, even though he just got us into the state championship.

Your eyes were a twisted blue, like the ocean,
And just as deep.
I was worried I would drown in them.


Perhaps I did.

The burn marks on my skin,
Left by his prints,
Make me never want to be held again.

My insides are made
Of shattered glass
Held together by pink bubble gum
An irreparable scene
Masked by leather jackets, red lips,
And pastel hair dye.
I wear fake battle scars on the outside
So people don't dare look in.

Your words, yes, are very nice,
But only bringing them to action,
Will suffice.

As you held my hand,
You broke my bones.

She wants to learn to fly,
So that she'll never be afraid in an airplane again,
She wants to learn to write well,
So she will never be afraid of how her thoughts are displayed,
She wants to learn ballet,
So she will never be afraid she isn't beautiful.
Poor little girl,
No one ever told her that you,
Never stop being afraid.

Entering an airplane,
For me,
Is like entering a church,
This sacred place where we sit in pews,
Eyes glued to the incredible,
Action up front,
Yet the view from the window,
As beautiful as the stained glass of the church back home,
Pulls longingly at my attention,
But unlike church,
I truly feel renewed,
When we land and I exit,
The beautiful, sacred plane.

It's raining
And I'm watching planes take off and leave and
I'm sitting on trains that run endless loops
And I could be anywhere and
Instead I am here.

It's still raining and
I'm still watching planes take off and land,
And I'm still sitting on trains that
Run in endless loops
And all I want to be,
Is with you.

You lead me to the door,
I'm not quite ready to go,
We stop and talk again,
For another five minutes,
Perhaps a hug is in order,
But neither of us seem sure.
So you just open the door wide,
For an awkward goodbye.

He says I'm nothing but,
Late night drunk ***,
To you, and thats all.

Yet I turn to another,
And he says,
It isn't just that,
That it's more.

And then I turn to you,
And you say nothing.

But when the zombies come pounding
On the door of my dorm
All I can think is
Who will come save me from the apocalypse now?

This is the story of the lover who felt everything, and the lover who felt nothing.
In the beginning, it was just she and he,
And she felt the flutter of butterflies, and new beginnings,
While he felt nothing.
And then it all became tangible, and they were together,
For a short while,
And she felt excitement, nerves, and promise,
While he felt nothing.
And while the laughed and made love,
She began to fall while he felt nothing,
And when she fell all the way,
Deeply, completely, ridiculously,
He felt nothing.
And when everything crashed and burned,
And she felt shattered, empty, and cursed,
He felt nothing.
And when there were small bubbles of hope,
She felt smiles,
While he felt nothing.
And when they started to drift yet again,
She felt longing, and sadness, and missed her friend, her love,
And he felt nothing.
And in the end, even through the lowest of lows, the lover who felt everything was better off.
Because even as she is on her own,
And growing again,
He still feels nothing at all.

Riding in an airplane,
Is one of the most terrifying,
Yet most beautiful things,
I have ever experienced.
There is something about the
Rumble beneath my legs,
Of the engine's purr.
Something about the lurch into the air,
That moment when you're
Neither on the ground
Nor truly flying.
Beautifying and petrifying.
And when turbulence is hit,
In the tiny Beech1900D,
The continuous jump, jump, jump,
Of my stomach,
Like an unending roller coaster
Only going down hill,
Lets me dance with death,
If only for a moment,
Before our wheels screech,
Against hot, angry tar,
And I can kiss the ground,
Once more

Boys say really sweet things like,
"We will get married some day,"
And "I will love you till the day I die,"
Just so you will spread your legs,
And they can get between your thighs,
When truthfully each tender word,
Is nothing but a clever lie,
Disguised as loving truth,
Sweet enough to make you cry,
So please remember next time he says,
"You make me so happy, I dont know why,"
To just say "thanks" and cross your legs,
Because when he leaves you'll want to die.

They tell me I'm such a brave girl,
For walking where I've walked.
They tell me I'm a brave girl,
For still breathing.
They tell me how proud of me they are,
For standing tall in front of him
And acting as if I'm okay.
They tell me I'm a brave girl,
But truthfully, I'm afraid.

As Hozier says,
"Take me to church,"
Oh God, please do,
Place me inside that beautiful metal tube,
Gliding through blue skies,
Put me in an airplane,
So I can be renewed,
Please, don't leave me stranded here on the ground,
All I crave it to touch the clouds,
I'll sacrifice my entire being,
If I'm only allowed to fly.

These words spun,
Like silk,
And occasionally poorly fashioned,
Spider-webs,
From my mouth,
Could all fit so nicely together.
Wouldn't that be the dream?
If these poems could form a book;
A collection?

I have never seen such a love,
As that of the mountains and the sky,
Every day sharing wet kisses,
Of mist, snow, rain, clouds,
The sky combing gently,
Through the mountain's pine tree hair,
And the mountains forever outstretched,
Reaching up,
Waiting for the moment when the two,
Lost lovers finally collide.

He was the star crossed, passion filled, love of my life. It was an unfortunately cruel truth that i wasnt his. That's just the sickening way that fate shakes things out sometimes.

Dear Future Lover of His,
Please listen to my words,
I want him to be safe,
In only a way which I know.

Dear Future Lover of His,
Please lay your heart on his chest,
Every day, twice a day,
And listen to his heart beat,
Make sure it is normal, on pace,
For if it isn't,
Something is wrong.

Dear Future Lover of His,
Buy blue Monster for him,
Before every soccer game,
For the pain and fear of seeing him,
Panting and passed out,
Delirious, is not worth any pain,
On Earth.

Dear Future Lover of His,
Don't pressure him to play guitar,
He will play for you when he truly wants,
And when his memories finally let him.

Dear Future Lover of His,
When he is drunk and sobbing,
Saying it is his fault,
Lay his head on your lap,
Pet his hair gently,
And remind him simply,
It is not.

Dear Future Lover of His,
When his anxiety hits,
Pull his hair for him,
And rub his neck,
Whisper sweet things in his ears,
And do not get upset,
When he doesn't want to be in,
Every one of your photos.

Dear Future Lover of His,
When he asks you what to draw,
Give him an endless list of suggestions,
So that his hands may never rest.

Dear Future Lover of His,
On June 15th,
Take him away from home,
Remind him endlessly how you love him so,
Then take him to the nearest parkour park,
And watch him run for hours.

Dear Future Lover of His,
Let him teach you soccer,
Because watching him play,
And go easy on you,
Is the sweetest thing you'll ever taste.

Dear Future Lover of His,
Never hold the past against him,
And please don't worry,
He hates your worrying the most.

Dear Future Lover of His,
Understand he needs alonetime,
Even if you need his time,
All the time.

Dear Future Lover of His,
Please be gentle, and kind,
Please let him love you for as long as he can,
And maybe you're place will replace mine,
The one where I am supposed to be,
For he needs someone to be there,
A rock, a constant,
And all I want is for him to be,
Happy.

I'm trying to listen,
I really am,
I just don't think,
You understand,
My eyes are heavy,
Your voice is slow,
There are many places,
I'd rather go,
So if I look,
As if I couldn't care less,
You're right,
I'm sorry,
I'm a mess.

Last night I had this dream
That you were here and
You were taking care of me
And then I realized
That maybe
It was a nightmare.

You can ask me as many times as you want
Why I did it
But my answer will always be
"I don't know."
And maybe it was simply because
I was falling apart
And he was there
While you weren't.

I'll carve your name
In to my skin
In hopes that you'll say mine
Again.