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In the briar patch
Little birds circle and chirp
Even sun confused
Light is more important than the lantern,
The poem more important than the notebook,
And the kiss more important than the lips.
My letters to you
Are greater and more important than both of us.
The are the only documents
Where people will discover
Your beauty
And my madness.
 Apr 2014 AP Beckstead 2014
They say that a person's heart
is the same size as their fist
but when you said I love you it hit
harder than your hand ever did
and I may have two black eyes
but yours are the color of fresh cut grass
and your heart must beat faster
than a hummingbird's wings
because your fist moved like
the needle of a sewing machine on my skin
but I was the one stitching myself back up
and I am covered in bruises
shaped like the hand I used to hold
but they will never hurt as much as
the last time I felt your pulse
Wrote a similar poem a while ago, decided to come at it from a different angle.
An emerald is as green as grass;
  A ruby red as blood;
A sapphire shines as blue as heaven;
  A flint lies in the mud.

A diamond is a brilliant stone,
  To catch the world's desire;
An opal holds a fiery spark;
  But a flint holds fire.
It's crazy how
The phone rings and
I'm disappointed that
The person I thought
I loved the most calls.
Because I realize, I can't
Love them that much
If I'm here
Wishing they were you.
The ocean knows.
Fill the world's largest container with it,
Or a shotglass. A thimble.
It will not care. It cannot care;

Nothing is ever removed

From anything.
 Feb 2014 AP Beckstead 2014
Growing up is making me anxious because
I'm not ready to be an adult when
I still fear like a child with my flashlight
Under the covers

At what age does my blanket in a dark room
No longer protect me from the
Monsters I cannot see?
 Feb 2014 AP Beckstead 2014
This is a really hard pill to swallow
Swallowing ******* my unspoken words
But I let another person yell at me
Just to tell me I am
Worthless, but the other girls
Don't have this problem, so maybe
He's right

I hate the word **** because
Actions don't define me
If you have words you want to say, please
Whisper them, because everyone knows how closely
I will listen and believe what you
Say, but you will continue to yell at me and
Tell me all the worst
Things about myself and
I will continue to change who I am
From the inside, out
old draft
It's just a bite, what harm could it do?
It triggers a domino effect, because one bite invariably turns into two, and three, and four and all of a sudden you're eating.
But you can't do that, because being skinny will make everything better.
You look in the mirror, hoping to see ribs and spine and hip-bones. You stretch your skin farther over your bones, and watch the fat melt away. You are skinny, and you are indestructible.
Nothing fits.
You shop for new clothes
but they sag in all the wrong places.
Nothing pulls over your chest the way it used to, instead it hangs there limply.
There are inches of extra fabric behind your thighs.
Your hips used to be graceful and womanly, but now you look like a pre-pubescent child.
Being skinny just isn't fun anymore.
But you can't go back, because you remember times when you'd stand in front of dressing room mirrors and clothes would s t r e t c h over your stomach and hips and thighs and *******. Everything would be too tight in all the wrong places.
It is either skinny or fat, never an in-between. You can never be "healthy" because that's fat too.
And the food is still on your plate while all of this runs through your mind and it almost kills you, because it's JUST A BITE.
but it isn't 'just' anything. it's a big deal.
So you leave the bite behind and your stomach begs you for something, anything. And then you see the candy.
The chips.
The diet sodas.
The protein bars.
The brownies.
The ice cream.
The milkshakes.
And suddenly you are out of control, eating it all at once and you can't stop. It goes in but it HAS TO COME OUT.
So you lock yourself in the stall.
You tickle the back of your throat with your pointer finger and it comes back.
Unnatural colors that come from processed foods.
And you are empty again,
crying on the bathroom floor
with no one to save you.
Here I am thinking

What have I become?

Is this me, Was it me before?

I'm exhausted by the constant adding up

-multiplying the times I have had to reassess

Where am I in this maze..

I feel the certainty chip away as the people I love wilt and disappear

The knowledge I once held close I lay down next to their once comforting words

Nothing is definite
Fact is a state of Illusion
Am I alright with this?

I once declared..  "I thrive on chaos"
I now search for comfort within it, and hold on tight to my own prospects

Is this really who I have become?
What do I fear? .. Measurement(?)

Those who are adding up their own multiples(?)

As I look myself over in the mirror
judging.. assessing the weight of each insult

Who cares?
Do I? How can I find contentment in all of these flaws
My lack of effort
My lack of effort to conform to ideals .. is this part of me, a rebellion of sort

Will it pay off in the long run or will I fall flat on my face in the abyss of conformity

I am lucky I am loved. I think

oh so lucky .. luck is temporary, it's all temporary
that's the good part(!) We don't have to dwell but(!) might we have to Answer

To Pay.. for all decisions and outcomes.
Is this why(?)

..I know I am not the only one thinking..
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