She hikes as a way
To escape.
She’s outspoken,
But internally broken.
She cries
Most the time.
Because she's learning to cope.
Loathing loneliness.

But more importantly,
She does her best
Each and everyday
To be forgiving
And allow herself the grace
To know
That perfect is impossible
Mistakes aren't her fault,
But a backwards way of freedom.

She's rigid
But only to herself
Believes people are inherently good
If only she could be included.
She speaks her mind
And sometimes her words
Are misunderstood.
She picks on herself for being different
Though people admit
Her presence is like a beacon of light;
Pure sunshine.

She has blue eyes
That see beyond the surface
In more ways than one
She is like the sea;
Vast, deep, filled with mystery.
Never shallow or transparent
Very powerful and her current
Depends on her mood
Some would say the moon.
But ironically
She fears the ocean,
Scared of depth and unknown
Doesn't like monsters or the cold.
She fears herself
And all her potential.
If only she could remember
She deserves something better.

It's hard to tell she suffers;
She's guarded, and hides pain beneath her smile.
But it's not a lie.
She adores the world
And prays one day
It may find peace.
Which is why she's still trying,
Getting up each morning,
Attempting to reclaim her body
Without disappointment or shame.

Give her patience
She will come around
Even the ocean has moments
When the current is down.
Wait until the moon is at its fullest phase
Watch the waves begin to raise.
Moods aren't meant to stay the same
They ebb and flow
transform and change.
She could complain,
but she knows each feeling has a place
bad exists to appreciate good days.

Now the first leaves, golden,
Falling, fluttering tranquilly.
Breeze becomes wind,
A slight chill present.

Summer ending,
Fall in the air,
You can smell it, see it,
Touch it, even taste it.

Saturday, Freeway fills with cars,
Flags flying, team colors displaying,
Car Horns honking, people waving.

Mighty Ducks are beating their wings,
Getting ready, who could have known?
That Ducks having no teeth,
Could be so very ferocious,
Tenacious, combative, thrilling.

Tailgating celebrating,
Throngs of laughing people, moving
Pennants showing, blowing in the wind,
Through the gates into the huge arena.
Filling the stands, waiting spectacle’s beginning.
Band blares spirited tunes, people and
Students cheering, Ear splitting, the grandstands
Vibrating, spines a tingling, tension mounting.

Among great fan fare, the Gladiators emerge,
Regaled in colorful Costumes for combat,
Helmets gleaming in the sun,
Muscles bulging young men strut and pose,
In spirited pent up raw anticipation,
Soldier-players moving now as one,
As a well practiced oiled machine,
Each part supporting the other.  
Each knowing its own function,
Resulting in precise synchronization.
A time and place where boys become men.

Beautiful young women, under dressed,
Bosoms bouncing, pompoms waving
Add to the Circus flavor of spectacle rising.

Only a game? None in the bowl knows that.
No one cares to think so, it is more than that,
It is war, it is life, it‘s aggression without death,
It is pride without regret; it is a melding of hearts,
And expectations, of loyalties to a common goal,
It is a Saturday in the sun and fall air, a chance to
Yell and cheer for youth in flower, to feel and fear
An inevitable outcome not yet predetermined.
To ebb and flow all human emotions,
To hopefully all, end the day a winner,
Or perhaps display compassion for the looser.  
To feel alive, to participate in life’s cycle of living.

Football, just a game? Don’t you believe it.

Kiss me deep,
Like the ocean.
I want to feel the waves
Crashing down.

Hug me tight,
Like a sweater.
It's yours I wear
That fits like a gown.

Whisper so soft,
Like the crystal snowflakes
Gently falling
From colder realms.

Touch me tenderly,
Like a newborn baby.
Enhance my senses,
I want to experience the sights and the smells.

Tug at me desirably,
Like the guiding wind.
I feel my garments getting looser
And my desire even stronger.

Make me yours completely,
Like lovers often do.
I want every part of you.
I can't stand it any longer.

I'm tired of being used
I am a person too
You cannot take me, distort me
Then leave
You cannot use me for your own selfish needs
You cannot use me for company
I am more than a tool to fix yourself with
I am more than an object
I was there for you, who's here for me?
Help me
I can't do this on my own
I'm alone, so
alone

you can't choose when you want me
you don't need me
you're the one who broke me,
why do I go out of my way to make sure you're okay?
you're happy, I don't know how to be
you have people that you can rely on
I'm alone
I always have to reach out
I don't like to talk about my feelings

"I think we should break up"
Please; not over over the phone
10 months, 5 of love, 5 of hate
I hate you
You tore me into pieces and you left
You picked at my insecurities, my hurt, and left
you were my happy
I don't know how to let go
You said if it's meant to be, it'll happen
You don't hurt someone you love then return
I want love not lust
You have the nerve
Is a ****** object what I've been degraded too?

what now...
"toughen up and live my life"
we don't need each other anymore
but
how do I let go
I have so much rage inside
and some love
I can't let go,
Not yet

You should hear Her speak of the time
When love had struck Her, left Her blind;
The intuition in Her breast
Was left ignored with just one request:
“Please, love with care (with no hate);
This may prepare you for your fate.”

Then, a One-Eyed-Monster dared to peep
At this starry-eyed Girl with a soul still asleep.
The Monster's nature, as it strove with pleasure,
Pleased Its infinite fervor, which nothing could measure,
As It Schemed, and found, and mostly destroyed
Her love-struck spirit that It yearned to employ.
These reckless hits made by this Daring Dart,
Un-mended the Girl from Rosebud to Heart.

Not believing all the Monster said,
The Girl sought the truth, but found it with dread.
Upon seeing this Monster's very bright colors,
She drowned in sorrow, but refused another
Hit by this Dart, as It still carelessly slaughters
Other Hearts, like Its future Daughter’s.  

And then came a time, much later in life,
When the Girl understood love’s unending strife.
Many One-Eyed-Monsters, She now bears in mind,
Aspire to love, but still cannot find
The passion They hunt for and ache to sway,
Because they zip Themselves up when love comes Their way.
Confusion They feel, and this does not die;
But, what can They see with only one eye?

These perilous passings on love’s sojourn
The Girl does not dwell on, nor does She mourn.
Instead, She has found new ways to see
Love’s ultimate beauty, unexpectedly:
A journey enGENDERED with Ladies of taste,
Where only Her own *** can love back without hate.