Alright, I'll confess it.
I would change everything about you.
Your bangs should sweep left to right,
Not right to left like you have them now.
Your cocky half smile quirks too much
So I think you should tone it down.
The way you shrug one shoulder then the other
In some comedic fix of antipathy
Should be more pronounced and firm.
I'd like it better if the shoes you wore
Weren't the same pair day after tired day.
Oh, and I think you're better looking
If you'd try to wear any makeup at all.
Really. Anything would help at this point.
I would change everything about you.
The way you talk, the way you walk,
Your affability towards people,
Your desire to learn and know the world.
I would strip you of everything you are
And have and know and love
And make you into someone new,
Someone different, someone...whole.
Because with all these not so bad qualities
I see in you through your wary eyes,
Are a host of demons lurking
In the black parts of your soul.
And I would rid you of them
For they haunt you and scare you
And turn you into someone I don't know.
If it means all the things I love and cherish,
All the quirks and smirks that make me smile
Must die in bloodshed as well,
Then so be it.
I would change everything about you.
If it meant that the things that drive you mad,
That tear you away from my side
In a fit of chaotic turbulence,
That make you cry uncontrollably in the dead of night,
Would all be expelled from your being,
Then I would gladly give up
The person I love
In exchange for someone else.
For I would rather you be someone totally different
And still holding my hand,
Than to see you drift further and further away
Into the darkness of your mind.

I used to wonder all the time
What people thought of me.
I tried every trick in the book
To make the best first impression.
And I'd refine those tricks
By asking those who became my friends
What their first impressions were of me,
And the favorable things were promoted,
And the non-favorable things promptly culled.

I used to wonder all the time
What people thought of me.
All the hours I spent riding the MUNI
To and from school, crossing paths with strangers,
I'd wonder if they wondered about my story,
What kind of person I am,
What kind of history I have,
What kind of morals I live.

I used to wonder all the time
What people thought of me.
So consumed with making them think
The best of me, my fingers bleed
From receiving all the chewed pent up anxiety
Of "Am I good enough to be their friend?"
Of "Did I just say the wrong thing?"
Of "Did I make the right choice?"
Of "Are they going to hate me now?"
Of "I bet they'll choose to leave me now."
Of "This is all I have; this is all I can be."
Of "Guess it's just me."

I used to wonder all the time
Until I realized people don't really think of me.

Not the "Don't think of me" in a negative way,
But the "Don't think of me" in the exact same way
That I never think about them.

My thinking about them was always in relation to me.
Never "What was my first impression of them?"
Never "What's their story? What's their history?"
Never "What're the morals they're living by today?"
Never "How're they doing with their own anxiety?"
Never "I wonder if they're doing okay."
Never "We should be friends because they're good people."

I used to wonder all the time
What people thought of me.
Now I wonder some of the time
How I should think of them,
And in turn forget a little about me.

You searched for me
But could not find me.
You turned over every stone
And every boulder
In vain attempt to locate me.
But I was not there.
You hiked every mountain,
Swam across lakes and oceans;
But I was not there.
You spent your last dime
On a flight to the ends of the earth,
Trying to bring me home.
But you couldn't bring home
The one you couldn't find.
I was always two steps ahead,
Hiding where I knew you'd eventually look,
But long gone before you actually got there.
You searched for me
But couldn't find me.
And still I ran.
Until I looked behind my shadow
And realized you were not there.
You had given me up to my flight.
Head drawn in weary exhaustion,
You went home,
Sat down as the sun rose—
A new day.
And I waited for you to get up and follow me,
But you were still and quiet
And now immovable.
"Listen," you whispered.
"Do you hear the whippoorwill's call?
"Can you feel the sun's warmth?
"Just sit a moment here, will you?"
Two steps ahead I had been...
Until I sat with you as the sun rose.
And I looked at your face turned toward the light,
How your eyes were closed
And your mouth drawn up at the corners
In the slightest of smiles.
And then your hand was covering mine—
Fingers interlocking.
And I was done running.

You searched for me
But found me when you stopped looking.

Why do I love to
Peel the skin off my sunburn?
Such satisfaction!

Gross it is I know.
But it is like when you start
Healing: chuck the past.

The dead skin itches.
It's annoying and useless.
Peel it off--new skin.

Old wounds--offenses--
Keep us irritated, mad,  
Instead of thriving.

Peeling dead skin is
Satisfactory because
Then I get new skin.

Tell me,

When children lay dying
In muddied dusty streets
In a place so far removed
From the world you've hewn
A niche all for yourself
And your loved ones,
Do you pity them?

Tell me,

When bombs fall in the night
Filling children, women, and men with fright
For their meager yet worthy lives
Apt to be cut short before their time,
Do you sympathize?

Tell me,

When the man on the street
With one hand and no feet
Shakes a half empty cup
Begging for your money to sup
On something more than handouts
At the local shelter,
Do you drop your high-held nose and also a few coins?

Tell me,

When the neighbor girl
Walks past your door
On a triple-digit summer day
In long sleeves and heavy pants,
Do you stiffen with concern
That mottled skin might lie beneath
Her carefully constructed facade?

Tell me,

How close to home
Must tragedy strike
Before your eyes
See humanity?

Must it be your best friend on drugs
Or your mother with her whiskey
Or your brother with his guns
Or your daughter with her cuts,
Or even yet all of them dead
Because of their sins and addictions
That kept them
From living instead of merely surviving
Until one day they threw in the towel
And now you can't follow.

Tell me,

What will it take?
For us to see humanity.

I wonder what you'd say if you could see me now.
If we passed on the street, would you recognize me?
Because
I made something of myself, you know?
I hold down a great job.
My coworkers love me.
People respect me because I'm good at what I do.
People respect me because I'm a good friend.
People respect me because I respect them.
I made something of myself, you know?
I pay my rent and bills and insurance
On time with the money I earn by hard work,
And hell, I'm proud of me.
I made something of myself, you know?
Made a few friends along the road
And communication keeps us staying that way.
They know where I stand
And they're proud of me too.
I made something of myself, you know?
I guess you really don't.
It's been years since you've picked up the phone
To ask me how I am,
To see what I've done,
To learn what kind of person I'm become,
To behold the woman I have grown into.
I've made something of myself, you see.
And it just plain *****
That you refuse to be
A mother to me.
I don't need you to coddle,
To hand-hold or problem-solve.
I just need you to be
My mom.
I'm grown, I'm adulting, I'm fine.
But, don't you wish you knew me now
Instead of just the me when I was a kid?
Don't you wish you could see
The person I've grown to be?
Would you ever be proud of me?
I guess I'll never know.
But before I go,
Thanks.
Really.
You may not be the best role model or mom,
But I am who I am today
Because *I chose to be.

Darkness shrouds
The four corners
Of my tiny room
And I don't move
To flick on the lights
Because I like
Sitting in the dark.

Surrounded by people
Who've known me all my life
And yet not labeled "my family",
I can't help but feel alone.
Though we laugh and cavort
In companionable glee
The fact that they don't know
The unmasked me
Saddens my hermit-yet-lonely heart.
I can sit alone in a full room
And feel the same as if it were empty
For the level of empathy,
Understanding, and knowing
Never changes, never grows.
It stays at zero zero point zero.
Like the monotone screech
Of a lifeless heart on the monitor
Never fluctuating up or down,
I sit here unknown, unconnected,
Alone.

After the cold darkness of haunted memories
Has chilled my soul
In a fitful bout of sleep,
A steaming hot cup
Of Irish tea
Makes me feel human again.

The first time you saw
The white streaks of healed tissue
That ran across my arm, you said,
"I'm surprised but proud of you."

You were proud that I wore them
Like a badge of honor not shame,
That I didn't hide them like others
Did with their own.

Later, we talked about them again
And you revealed how you thought
I seemed to be used to them now
And I didn't notice them anymore.

Want to know what I notice?

I notice how strangers hesitate
When they see me or meet me.

I notice how mothers distract
Their kids when I walk past.

I notice the whispers then silence
When I move my arms.

I notice judgement from people
Who don't know the first thing about me.

I notice the looks of sadness or pity
But never acceptance.

I notice how my heart constricts
Because they don't know my story.

I notice how I hate myself more
For the fact that I am so messed up.

I notice the fact that I'm always aware
And completely unused to them.

The death of a loved one:
You don't get over, just used to.

This--these scars on the body and soul:
You don't get used to, just live with.

Rough tactile callouses.
Jointed mischief collaborators.
Twisted knuckly punishers.
Wrinkled hills and valleys.
Capability embodied.
Sensuality expressed.
Love experienced.
Life recorded.
Dancing Phalanges.

Curled in a quivering ball,
She holds her lips sealed tight.
Her sole goal is to pass the night
Without utterly losing it all.

Fingers pressed to temples,
Eyes shut with all her might,
She waits for dawn's first light
And begs for it to be gentle.

She begs for Time to have mercy
On her worn and wearied soul.
She pleads, beseeches, and cajoles
For Time to find her worthy.

And when the sun's beams
Breach the womb of dawn,
Her exhausted form looks upon
A new day and a new dream.

When I stooped to pick up the scattered
Pieces of the shattered glass
You so angrily threw in the vicinity
Of my head when I was thirteen years old
All I could think about was
How much I loved you and couldn't leave.

When I bent over to still the throbbing
Pain behind my ribs
You so angrily punched vigorously
As I collapsed at the foot of the stairs,
All I could think about was
How much I loved you and couldn't leave.

When I silently accepted the meted out
Punishment of lash after leather lash
For a crime I might've committed
But certainly didn't fit the excess discipline,
All I could think about was
How much I loved you and couldn't leave.

When I watched over your sleeping form
As you dreamt of a life far away
From the accumulated griefs and offenses
Which eventually incited you to go,
All I could think about was
How much I loved you and couldn't leave.

How much I loved you and couldn't leave.

Loved was always past tense.
Leave was always on my mind.

Eventually, neither of us did the loving,
But you did the leaving.

Yet I find myself stuck in this same
Train of Thought:

*How much I loved you and couldn't leave.

You appear when I least expect
And send my head careening.
All the old fears and inadequacies
Stick to the bile rising in my throat.
And I can't speak
To save myself.

Once again
You smirk at my silence.

You win.

The ground shook yesterday,
And the limb I perched upon
Bowed and threatened to break.
The sky above darkened with clouds
As moisture gathered in the air.
My fingers loosened from their firm grasp
Round the branches to which I clung.
And as the sky lit up with nature's fireworks
Of crisscrossing patchwork lightning
I stood up and spread my arms.
The wind picked up and beat icy droplets
Into my chest and cheeks.
And in the moment before I fell,
I yelled.
As the breath escaped my lungs
In a violent echoing release,
I closed my eyes and steadied myself
And then stepped off and flew.
Oh what a flight it was!
And the ground caught me
Like a frypan catches the tossed up pancake.
And all life was beaten from my body
And all my demons exorcised.

And then my eyes peeled open
To see the white ceiling above
And i felt the starched sheets
Chaffing my sweat-soaked skin
And I realized I have to live the day
All over again.

Your eyes are incredulous,
Unsympathetic, and just a touch doubtful.
But why wouldn't you be?
You never lived through anything
That would bring you to such darkness.
So I don't blame you for not understanding.
And I'll do my best to keep it
From ever touching you,
For I would not even wish this depression
On my most mortal enemy.
It's an unavoidable riptide of despair
That hits like a bullet train at full speed
With absolutely no ****** warning
And takes you out to a black sea
Where you fight with every limb
To keep your head above the waves
That keep crashing down and pressing up
Until every fiber of your body and soul
Are drained of endurance and will,
So you stop kicking and flailing
And find yourself lying on your back
Floating on the top of the water,
And for a second you have peace
Because the waves are crashing
But the fight is over, the struggle is over,
And slowly you let yourself sink
Into the cold arms that have been drawing you closer.
And the last thing you see
As the light above fades into the shimming drink
Is the nothing that has been your constant friend.
So don't ask how I'm doing.
Don't inquire after my health.
For to tell you would be to ask you to risk
Life and limb to jump in after me
To save my broken soul from sinking any further.
And don't you know?
I'm too far gone for you to save.
I'd rather see you standing on solid ground
Than swimming after me.
I'd rather save you and see you keep
Your doubt and disbelief
Than ever truly understand
What my depression is to me.

Seriously??
You're seriously bringing that up now??
After everything you've put us through,
You're going to hold this over my head
Right now??
I can't believe this.
I knew you were childish
But this is reaching new lows
Even for you.
I mean,
Who brings up a mistake I made
Ten years ago when I was legitimately a kid.
I mean,
Who doesn't forgive a child
For not knowing any better
And messing up huge that one time.
But you never were one who fought fair.
You used every ***** trick not in the book
And then some.
You
Lied,  
Manipulated,
Schemed,
Guilted,
Violated,
Demanded,
Demeaned,
Degraded,
Beat,
Beat,
Beat,
Me into the ground
Until I believed that
I was shorter than Thumbelina,
And responsible for all the chaos in your life.
Blinded by childish hero worship,
I trusted you when you told me
I was the reason things weren't working out.
But the child is not responsible
For the failed marriage of her parents.
The child is not responsible
For her parents' lack of communication.
The child is not responsible.
But you're still living like I am.
So I'm not gonna take this anymore.
I'm not gonna sit here, stand here, stay here,
And listen to your convoluted messed up reality.
I've got my own life to live.
My own memories to make.
My own mistakes to learn from.
My own family to find and have and raise.
And I sure as hell don't need
Someone like you coming back in
And telling me I'm less than I really am,
Cause the truth is, Mom,
I'm a lot more than you'll ever be.

When I was ten, I dreamed
Of being in a uniform on a ship,
With a purpose in life.

When I was fourteen, I dreamed
Of being in love at a young age
With my ever-after man.

When I was seventeen, I dreamed
Of going home to the place
I had been sent away from.

When I was twenty, I dreamed
Of a family reunion twenty years away
Where everyone smiled and forgave.

When I was twenty-four, I dreamed
Of happiness I had already lost hope in,
Love I had no faith in.

Now...I dream
Of sleep--
A full night's sleep,
A more-than-just-a-couple-hours sleep,
A physically healing and refreshing sleep...

A sleep where I don't dream.

Left for dead
In a dumpster
But not dead
Still one breath left

A gentle hand
Saved my body
And gentle words
Healed
The hidden wounds

A nameless face
You chose to stay
Never giving in
To my demands
Of "Who the hell are you?"
Until you knew I'd be ok
And left without
Another word

A nameless face
But I will find you
And one day
I will thank you.

Today my eyes are sunken;
They feel like they sit deeply in my skull.
My muscles protest much movement,
And my bones aren't much better than jello.
My scalp radiates pain across the back
Of my head, where a loose ponytail acts
As my one semblance of being "put together."
My breathing is shallow and my lungs tight.
My fingers and toes bloated and sausage-like.
To answer a question takes 35.3 seconds longer
Because my brain and my tongue aren't in sync.
I can't think.
I can't focus.
I can't do anything today.
Yet here I am
Faking my way through work,
Pretending my smile is genuine,
Imagining my interest is sincere,
Acting like I've got enough of it together
To be a part of normal society
Instead of locked up in the ****** bin
Where I'd be more at home
With all the other crazies
Raving about this or that or nothing at all,
Because don't you know I'm one thin thread
Away from completely losing my mind...
But I still want to be part of your world:

Up where you walk on your legs
With your head high in the sky,
No vestige of doubt that you belong
In a happy carefree life.

Up where you sing tunes in major chords
With voices loud and proud,
No hesitation of depression stilting
The vibrato of your bravado.

Up where everyone is put together.
Up where everyone is whole.
Up where everyone smiles and means it.

I want to mean it too
One day...

Sooooo maybe I got
Unreasonably angry.
Maybe I got illogically riled.
And maybe I let my childish emotions
Get the better of me
And I ran with them, rampant and free.

How does one find
The balance in life
Of feeling but not feeling too much?
Of not pendulum swinging
From uncontrollable loathing
To indescribable bliss
Or inexorably blithe?

To feel but only to feel enough!
To be but only to be just right!
Never too little and yet not too much!
Finding the balance is every man's plight.

He took my hand
And my heart skipped a beat.

Skadoosh

My world implode,
Never to be the same.

Kaboom

Now that he's gone,
How do I recover?

Bang

He was my firecracker,
My short-fused flame.

I once stood on a cliff
Ready to let it all go.
The waves crashing below me
Threw coarse icy salt into my face.
Two steps from the edge,
Ready to fly into the cold darkness.
Sudden warmth covers my shoulder.
i should have known.
You always come for me.
Just before i can take the plunge
Your hand pauses my train of thought,
Causes me to take a step back.

What would i do without You?
You take away the cold
That threatens to completely freeze my heart.

What would i do without You?
You're the only One who knows
Just how much i want to be saved.

What would i do without You?
I don't even want to know,
Because I don't want to imagine
A life that has no You.

I once stood on a cliff
Enjoying the sunrise
With You by my side,
Hand in my hand.

His fingers wrapped tightly
Around the little hand
Of the sleeping child in his arms.
His eyes traced the silhouette
Of pursed lips to fattened cheeks
And he thought to himself,
"How does something so wonderful exist?"

He listened to the gentle rasp of breath
And watched the slight rise and fall of chest.
His eye soaked up the sight
Of the bundle of unconditional love he held.
And soon dreams of future adventures
And tales and fables and stories
And daily life monotony
Played like a movie before him,
Drawing a single tear of hope from his eye.

All too soon the child stirred and woke
And jumped up and shouted with glee.
And he returned from sentiment to reality
And made breakfast with a cup of tea
Wishing for more moments like these
Because he finally understood his father's word:
Time passes too quickly when it comes to love.

And when his hand paused over the kettle
And his eyes glazed over with this vague thought,
A small hand touched his arm with "Papa?"
Little eyes took in the strength of character
That towered as a model for a future life;
Little eyes that never strayed too long from
Watching and learning all the things Papa did;
Little eyes that now began to see
There's always another side to every thing,
For with great abruptness
Papa looked into those little eyes
And said, "Go wash up, your hands are *****."

But the glint in his eyes said,
"I love you, always."

I have good days, stretches of them even,
And stand at the top of my world.
But then a fleeting thought passes
And tips me off the ledge
Into the swallowing abyss
And I berate myself
For thinking I could conquer it.
I keep expecting a magic cure--
One that heals the scars
That never felt their wounds.
I keep thinking one day I will be normal.
And I die a little more when normal stretches
That much further away.

I'm staring up the walls of this abyss
As I tumble down to a depth I've never known.
I close my eyes in surrender,
But my soul, in the midst of its despair, revolts.

I challenge the force of gravity as I fall
With one simple thought:
What is normal?

Gleaming, undented shining armor?
Pristine closets with no skeletons?
A person who is whole and unbroken?

I will never be unbroken again.
The stories I've chosen not to share hide the skeletons that broke me.
I will never be whole as I once was.
The scars that line my arm bear testament to that fact.

And that...
That is normal,
For every human has their own
Definition of normal.

The fall suspends and I'm in the Fifth Dimension.
And suddenly I know I'm in control.
I'm in control because whoever I am is normal.

I open my eyes and I'm back on the top of my world.

Today I sat down to write a note
That turned into a novel
That morphed into a saga
That grew into a multi volume series,
And I finally lifted my pen mid word,
Done with it but
Not done.

Today I sat down to pen a single feeling,
But it metastasized into
A whirling, swirling ball of
Confused and jumbled emotions,
And I stopped mid metaphor,
Done with it but
Not done.

Today I sat down to be simple,
But I soon realized
Nothing is ever simple
Or easy,
Or single faceted,
Or straightforward,
And I halted mid thought,
Done with it but
Not done.

Today I think I'm going to step away,
And not put pen to paper for another day.
For I think, for now, I am done.

You didn't even recognize
Your own ******* daughter.

After
Seven years of absence.
Seven years of change.
Seven years of silence.
Seven years of growing up without you.

And you write a ******* email
To reiterate how good life is
Now that you've abandoned your family
To pursue the life you felt
We kept you from?
Never asking how your daughter is.
Never asking if the child she held in her arms
Was your grandbaby, your ******* flesh and blood.
Never asking a single question
That would focus any shred of attention
On anyone but you.

What. The. Hell?

Sometimes the universe is gracious
And answers our theoretical questions.
Mine had been "What would you say to me?
What would you think of the woman I've become?"

Now I know the answer because
Your dead soulless eyes and selfish letter
Say everything for you:

"Frankly, I don't give a ****."

Well, guess what,
Woman-I-will-no-longer-call-Mom,

I don't give a **** about you either.
You're dead to me--just a ghost.
And we all know the truth about ghosts:
They aren't real.

I caught a glimpse of coal black hair
And my footsteps faltered a moment,
Though before I could stumble both
Over my feet onto the sidewalk
And down the rabbit hole of memories,
I remembered it couldn't be you
But was just some dark tressed visage
Who cares naught for my haunted soul.

Buzz Zippy Buzz Buzz!
Sunshine orange blossom nectar...
Sweet summer honey!

Summer turns to fall.
A part of my soul is gone.
I've misplaced my smile.

Dark twilight's embrace
Welcomes the slap of rubber
Worn shoes on pavement.

Nothing makes sense
When heat gives way to coldness,
The heart is missing.

Death's fingers creep
Like lovers' hands over stilled
Blankets. Quick! Slap away!

Safety net beside
Now; awhile I’ve been longing.
You contain my soul.


Cold nights make me warm.
Cold nights remind me of you.
Now I am alone.

There's this place
I love to visit
When the world
Has tuckered
Me out.
It's a place
Not known to many,
Which works
Just fine for me.
It can be quiet
When I want to be.
Or raucous when I party.
It's a place
That comes to me
To wrap me up
And take me home
When the fringes
Of my soul
Become so frayed
And tattered,
Ragged and threadbare,
When the depths
Of my heart
Have lost all but one drop of hope.
This place is my haven.
And though I wish for you
To find the peace here
That I do,
This place is mine
And I just can't share it with you.

For awhile now i’ve been trying to find some sense of solace
or some place of serenity in a haven that only i know of.
I’ve filled countless pages with the ideas and notions
that would shape and build those walls of my haven
to keep all the things that would render me broken
and hurt away from my world and sliver of sunshine.
It’s gone now. That haven i claimed.
pushed aside like an unwanted fly,
someone else claimed my haven.
My haven of words, of language, of prose and poetry.
The only escape i knew i not only loved but was good at.
The only thing i ever felt a sense of pride in doing.
The only place i ever felt i belonged. My haven.
it’s gone.
she took it. just like she’s taken so many other things from me.
my strength, my joy, my self-worth, my childhood, my soul.
without my haven, i’m an armadillo continuously rolled up
so as not to feel the sticks and stones raining down on me.
the armor thickens and the bones stiffen in place.
It’s not so easy for me to be gentle now.
It’s not so easy for me to unroll my armor.
All i know now is this life without the walls of my haven.
no sense of joy in words, in language, in prose or poetry.
outside the sunshine, outside the haven, there is only numbness…

Pulsing beneath
My skin
Is a heartbeat
That pendulums
From anxious to placid
And more often than not
Doesn't know the meaning
Of steady.

He knew.
That's all she could think about.

He knew.
And she had no clue how.

He knew.
And that a mystery profound.

He knew.
But didn't give her the runaround.

HE KNEW.
And stayed to be her wolfhound.

He knew.
This is love, no doubt.

She knew
His promise is his vow.

What words are there
That can adequately describe
The reasons why I hide
Behind
A mask of congeniality
And blissful frivolity
With just a dash of innocent naivety
Due to my blatant apathy
Towards
Everything?

I'm a turtle withdrawn in my shell.
And I like it here!

There.
I think those words are adequately perfect!

A body lies broken
On the freeway ramp curb.
A man once stood there
Asking for help
With his cardboard cutout
Plea for societal mercy.
Then a car sped too fast,  
Swerving to make the green light
It was never going to catch
In this dimension or any other.

Just a moment was all it took.

Did you know he was a soldier
Who was haunted at night
By the enclosed confines of his house
Because it too closely resembled
The urban landscape he fought in,
Faced death in, lost friends in,
Got caught in until the web of his mind
Couldn't ever forget it
Especially when he tried to sleep at night?

Did you know he came back
And tried to fit in to the community
He had been born and raised in
But found that the stares and glances
Of wonder and horror laced
With misunderstanding and pity
He didn't need but couldn't escape
Were too much for him to bear
Because though he could
Look the enemy in the eye
It hurt too much to see
His own father couldn't meet his,
And a community takes its cues
On how to treat its people
From those closest to them,
So, soon no one would look him in the eye?

Did you know all that when you passed
Where he stood every day on the curb
Asking for your pity and spare change,
Having become the uttermost disgrace
In his own eyes,
Because don't you know
He used to be somebody?

Did you know that today,
When you made a split second
Choice to speed up the turn,
He'll be buried in the National Cemetery
With an honor guard
And a three rifle volley salute,
But the chairs will be empty
And no one will speak kind words for him,
Because he's already been forgotten?

How else could you run over him,
And drive off with not a glance back??

My conclusion: you're a ******!

Home is where the heart is.

Home is where Taiwanese people
Hock their wares at the top of their lungs
As you're pressed on every side
By the crush of people filling the lanes
Of the night market.

Home is where crazy San Franciscians
Roam the hills in shorts with jackets in hand
In case the fickle Weather changes his mind
Or they wander too far west
Into the land of perpetual fog and mist.

Home is wherever you are.
Or at least that's what home used to be.
But since you've gone away,
My heart is a thousand pieces.

Home needs a whole heart.
And mine isn't anymore.
So every day I'm homesick
For a place that will never be.

Home is now just in my memories.

Woke up this morning to the sound of rain
Wondered where you'd gone.
Woke up this morning to the sound of pain
Ringing in my ears.

You never saw the face
Of this lonely little girl.
All you saw was your tragedy,
Oh the calamity of your life!
What a sacrifice!

How many years do I have to wait
For you to apologize?
How many times does my heart have to break
While waiting here for you?

You never saw my tears
As I cried myself to sleep.
All you saw were your memories,
All the adversities in your life
That you gave me to bear.

How many years do I have to wait
For you to apologize?
How many times does my heart have to break
While waiting here for you?

I never knew what it'd take
For me to hear you say,
"Good job!" and "I'm proud of you!"
And "I love you too!"
Instead you just left me behind.

How many years do I have to wait
For you to apologize?
How many times does my heart have to break
While waiting here for you?

Woke up this morning to the sound of rain,
Knowing you had gone.
Woke up this morning to the sound of pain
Ripping out my heart.

But I'm not gonna wait here anymore
For you to apologize!
I'm gonna pick my heart up and move on
From waiting here for you!

Woke up this morning to the warmth of sun,
Shining down on me.
Woke up this morning to the sense of peace
Spreading through my veins.

I.  
A word that defines
Only one thing
And yet covers a universe.

I
Is me,
And yet is you.

I
Is strong, stubborn, iron-willed
And yet supple, compliant, meek.

I
Is fair beauty
And yet homely.

I
Is man
And yet woman.

I
Is small
And yet...not.

I
Is me
With you.

If I could
I would pack up my life
And drive across the Continent
To settle someplace new
And colder because I hate heat.

If I could
I would write poetry all day
And watch movies all night
Until I'm ready
To brave the world again.

If I could
I would join a dance class
And learn the basic
Foxtrot, waltz, and cha cha
Until I could twirl around
A ballroom
From sunrise to sunset.

If I could
I would "catch them all!"
And find the joy
In all the missed days
Of my childhood.

If I could
I would give back
All the years I took
From you.
The advice you gave
Both willingly and not.
The love we shared
Both unconditional and not.
The future I prevented
You from achieving or not.
And I'd give back
Whatever else you want.

If I could
I would...

At 10:32 at night
There isn't much I can do,
Except say to you
Goodnight.

Or maybe even,
Goodbye.

On the days when I don't think I'll make it,
When the burden of life refuses to lessen
Its interminable persecution of my soul,
I pull out a rubber band and slip it over my wrist.
A snap for the driver who cut me off.
A snap for the girl who wouldn't stop jabbering
In the movie theater on her ridiculously large mobile phone.
A snap for the man who abandoned his kids.
A snap for the woman who punched them.
A snap. A snap. A snap.
Until my wrist is raw and red.
It should be tended to, but I just ignore it.
Life doesn't care so why should I?
I crawl into bed and shut out the noise
Until all that's left is the emptiness in my head.
Then I sleep.
But when I wake, something is different.
Something small has changed.
And my fingers travel of their own volition
To snap, snap, snap, snap, snap away.
But it's gone.
The band that held my anger in check,
The band that kept my mask in place,
The band that made me feel whole,
The band is gone.
And in it's place is a bandage--
My wound now wrapped and dressed
As it should have been.
I don't know who did it,
But someone was kind to me...
That little change slips over me
Like a new coat,
Makes me hold my head a little higher,
Slips into my soul
Like a good hot meal,
Makes me willing to smile a little easier,
And now I see a small respite
From the interminable persecution.


To those who do not have depression:
Your small acts of unasked for kindness towards us affected by any degree of depression can make a huge difference.

To those who suffer this along with me:
*There is always hope. We just need to learn to lift our heads up and look for it.