Writing is my voice for years I've ben wanting to speak my mind
Tired of being oppressed being silent for idiots who dk
I've stepped up done well but out of respect I kept my mouth shut
But I'm not getting treated fair or getting the respect they demand
I admire my elders but sometimes they bs and are wrong
My superiors talk down on me but  they are not perfect among their superiors
Be an example not make an example of others

I am a pool of unfathomable depths;
dive in with caution or I may just
swallow you whole.

I wanna be the drug in your syringe
Inject me into your skin
I'll patch up those holes in your veins
From the inside out
I wanna be the vase you pick flowers for
and leave on your night stand
I'll bleed lavender into your dreams
while you sleep
I wanna be the water that flows through
the stream behind your house
Swim with me
I'll cradle you peacefully
I wanna be the pillow you rest your head on
Cry over me
I'll absorb your tears deep into me
I wanna be the CD you play on your way to work
Sing along to me
I'll take you there safely
I wanna be the broken glass
window at your mom's house
I wanna show you
I wanna be the rear view mirror
on your dad's wrecked pick up truck
I wanna show you
I wanna be the notebook
you filled with angry words in high school
I wanna know you
I wanna be the guitar
you first found yourself with
I wanna know you
I wanna taste the stutter in your voice
The brink of your vulnerability
I wanna breathe in your pain
Over a cigarette
On your back porch
I wanna breathe you in
*I want to be in your bed
I swear everything you
say goes straight to my head
I want to be in your bed

tell me what keeps you awake at 2 am
whether it’s the girl who took the knife of her absence and stabbed it into your sternum
or the loneliness that swallows your skin

play the one song which releases the floodgates in your eyes
and let me listen to it over and over again
until i find which line makes your heart drop to your stomach

describe the story of your body to me
tell me of the invisible scars too
and with each detail you describe
i will make a map
so i know which road bumps to avoid
or which holy sites to fall to my knees and kiss the ground of

remember that
i wear a mask brimming with self confidence and an armor of words that are both easy to tear for they were thin like tissue to begin with
i am sensitive
taking to hurt the way a sponge absorbs water

do not hide me behind closed doors or keep me entrapped in bed sheets
when you walk past me, do not pull your hood over your head and avert your gaze
i need you to look at my eyes as if they illuminated the entire world
and kiss my lips as if they are what allow you to breathe

open the door.
bring me flowers.
because the only boy who did either was my 5th grade boyfriend

be willing to meet my family and friends
for they were the ones who created the marble statue whom you marvel at today

take note of how my heart is a reflection of myself
how she is too kind and will kiss the same man who tore her in two
so please do not say words which will make her wings flutter
if you are not ready to be the nest she flies to

let me know that me, as myself, i am enough
that i do not need to be a chameleon
dipping myself in new colors each day to please you

remember the little things about me
like how my first phrase i uttered was shut up to a man in an elevator or the delight i take in handwritten letters and mix CDs, or the significance of my first tattoo
because everything about you is being etched into the walls of mind
so that i can never forget

trace your fingers with a loving tenderness over my scars from the times i transformed my body into a crucifix
pinning my hands and feet onto a cross out of habit
thinking love was a word synoymous with self sacrifice

you must learn my language
know what zips my lips into silence
know the difference between when i want to give up versus when i will actually do so
and be there to hold me when the seams start to unravel

if you want me to love you
know that many have tried and failed
that people like me are not meant to be soft
if you want me to love you
know that to me
love is not a word you spit out of your mouth and juggle in your hands
you need to promise that our love won’t be like an hourglass
for my body has been disfgured enough from the times my chest turned inside out from the pang of abadonment
if you want me to love you
reaffirm my body is a kindgom, my heart is the treasure, and that i am your queen
paint pictures for me in what you do and say
telling me i am worthy to be loved, worthy to be kept, and worthy to stay

but if you really want me to fall in love with you
tell me what you see right before you close your eyes at night to fall asleep
and if you tell me it’s me
i will fall unfathomably further for you than i already have

Lip stick stains all over my notebook
from every night I stumble in,
with my organs drowning
and my fingers shaking
I spill over the edges of my skull
and splash onto the pages
Your best friend brushes
your hair when you're anxious?
Isn't that sweet
My best friend has a satin binding
Blue lines and red margins
I was perpetually anxious
until I found him
lying lifelessly
behind a little sign that read
"Two for $5"
at my local library
when I was thirteen

The rain left random splatters on my bedroom window like water colors on a thick canvas;
7:45, a humid Monday in the summer
Mother Nature with her paint brush,
she pulled back and released the bristles
to leave a spotty dripping splash of rather abstract art all over
every boring building in this tired city.
I considered it a small treat to be peering through the spontaneous drops,
as they distorted the mundane view of my front yard.
With a slight intrusion of my leftover child's imagination,
it appeared as though the pavement that slept beneath this old town house
was melting & all of the houses in this neighborhood were floating with the clouds,
silently through this aquatic universe... had I opened the window,
I thought, "it'd be sink or swim" so I thanked the green of Earth
that I was safe & dry at the edge of my bed.
As a kid the most painful of hours were eased
with a fictional story that made my situation seem safer than all of
its alternatives, although that was rarely the case...
My grandfather would stand in my door way & whispering through the chaos
of just an other tragedy, he'd say "If you can't find anything to be grateful for, pretend."
Well I know most of the time I was grateful enough just for him.

The maximum ******* capacity
for this universe has been exceeded