I am lost in the pursuit of poetry, every precious line stamped out by the fear of feeling too much.
I am lost in the persecution of myself, constantly battling the struggle within
The lack of a voice where my own should be.
The struggle with silence in my head and the emptiness in my hands where yours should be, or a pen at the least.
I never thought the road to my dreams would be this lonely.
A little wobble here, a stumble there, waiting for a familiar tug to guide me.
The same tug that brought me you… the greatest thing I almost have.
I suppose I will pick myself back up as I’m used too.
I’ll reach inwards instead of out to steady my traitorous feet.
If I trip at least I know my empty hands will catch me.
I’ll save the pen for softer ground and compose symphonies in the silence of my clouded mind.
And I will walk alone until you can be completely free to make the journey with me.

They’ve always told me the truth,
But I have mastered lying to myself
Like memorizing the insides of my
Eyes, I refuse to really see you.

They said you may miss me
But only for my toxicity.
They said I can’t always have what I want.
They said it’s time to move on.

But all I know is that I am sad.
No poetic metaphor to describe
the ache I feel.
I know I miss my best friend
And for some reason the wound won’t heal.

They told me the truth.
They said what I already knew.
That I need to let you go.
That I’m either ridiculously stubborn, a ******
Or probably both.

The truth is, I’ve learned to live without you,
And I know I don’t want to.
But I suppose it’s time I do.

Pretty words are just words, it’s actions that truly hurt.
But then again I was never good at listening.
I want to say I miss you,
But it’s not quite that...
It’s more images if your karma, and plotting my crazy revenge,
But then again I was never very good at pretending.
I want to say I’m surprised...
But it’s not that either.
It’s more accepting that I was just too much for you and that you weren’t enough for me.
But, then again in the scheme of things, we weren’t really much of anything.
You see, pretty words are just pretty words
That you had the bad habit of repeating.
But, then again I was naive enough to believe,
But, since when do words mean much of anything to ME?
I know the truth to my words will dull the dagger.
Eventually, the stab will scab and scar over.
But you will realize that pretty words won’t dull the regret
Of knowing that you will be just another number
On the list of boys who can’t forget.

You said you wouldn’t retrace your steps
but here I am breathless.
You told me I was special,
That you understood,
But sweet nothings mean nothing.
Forget what mamma said.
There is good in everyone,
But only for the right price.
Boy did I pay the price
Of puzzled parts of my soul
Little pieces I gave without knowing,
Like strands of my hair
If you find them give them back,
Give everything back,
Because the space you neglected to ask for
Has filled with fury and disgust
Trust tossed in with all the accounts you blocked.
One moment soul-sharing the next ghosting.
And that’s what’s best?
Grow up. Grow up. Grow up.
Thank you for showing me my worth and insignificance,
But mostly for reminding me who not to love.

When I am weak, I look to Bronte to bring me home.
When I feel empty I look to Plath to make me whole,
Because no man, no degree, no job will fill me with the power and joy words bring.
No physical thing can bring me more to my knees
Than a blank journal providing endless possibilities printed on hand-pressed paper,
or a book written before language was frivolous,
whose pages speak truths I didn’t know existed,
Brimmed with riddles most people can’t decipher
But to me they are the stars that comfort my age old soul
They are the reaching hand that pulls me back
When I am dancing the edge and my tears tip me over
When the bough breaks and the cradle comes crashing down,
When the only person I want to see pulls the wool over my eyes
I will return to the only savior I have seen
The only thing that will never betray, break or bait me.
The only true love I have known.
Poetry

He is the rain on my wings making me feel heavy.
I try to shake him and fly away
But I like the cool cage that surrounds me.
He weighs my heart down.
Slow, like the passing of the moon.
Temperamental as the tides
Busy as afternoon.
I ache for him like an addiction,
A feeling I never thought I needed.
He is the pump in my artificial heart,
He is the brace on my knee,
Always there to steady me.
He is the cast I wish I could take off,
But he and I both know how I break so easily.
How I bend and sway
Constantly tripping over my own feet
Sputtering words I meant to say poetically
Only to find he wasn’t even listening.
But eye rolling isn’t easy to see
half way across the country.
He couldn’t read the signs
Even if I painted them across my naked body.
Now I’m left to shake the drops off,
Missing him like the toy my child’s heart never forgot.

I pour myself into any love that comes along.
Absorbing myself into them like a flower
Stretching up to meet the sun.
Good mornings soak up the dawn
of new beginnings and could be's
I stand in the daylight of so close and approaching almost
Lying in the twilight and finally opening my eyes,
Listening to the cricket’s song, sad and lonely but finding my way to where I belong.
Where do I belong?
Not in bottomless reflections praying for the buzz of your attention
No… no, not playing wars of who can pin whom
but sentences of simply me and you
I'll swallow the words of my youth
Place my hand on that book and speak nothing but the truth
Remember what I loved before I felt desire
Because our fire will always die
You know I can't convince my heart to lie.
Instead of grasping for your thoughts I'll reach for a pen
And remember who is left standing beside me and what this has always been.

My eldest sister says you have to go through a lot of frogs till you find your prince and he will be worth the waiting, she knows better than anyone.

My middle sister says protect the little girl inside me and empower the woman I am becoming, she's learned this better than anyone.

My stepmother says take it one day at a time and take whatever comes in stride. Let yourself worry when the time comes to worry, she knows this better than anyone.

My father says I'll meet someone new who will make me forget all about him and that each day it'll hurt a little less. He knows this more than anyone.

My mother shows me God's definition of love and tells me every day is a blessing, to give it to The Lord and love the good things. She knows this better than anyone.

I remember all the advice. I remember all their words.

They will remind me to stop missing who I thought was you and start fighting for me.
They'll remind me who I am and even though you had my mind muddled.
They will guide me to make the decisions I want and they will never blind me.
I will be free and clear with the words of those who love me the way I deserve to be loved,
because they are the ones who showed me how to love through their mistakes and passions.
With a full and kind heart, clear mind and steady soul.
Because love is not selfish or indifferent.
Love is not rude or disrespectful.
Love is not what I can do for you or what you get out of it.
Love is kind and attentive.
Love is passionate and wants to meet your dogs before your parents.
Love is intelligent and understanding.
Love is open minded and trustworthy
Love is honest and love never let's you forget you are beautiful.
When you need it the most and when you hardly expect it love is there always.
Love makes you laugh and occasionally cry.
Love is not perfect but love is a fighter.
Love should and will fight for you.

This I am learning better than anyone.

My brain is on fire with everything.
I sit down to write and end up with blank lines and empty stanzas.
Where words of intense beauty and insight should rest are frustrated scribbles.
My lack of aspiration is disheartening.
I can’t unscramble my mind for one second long enough to write a decent line,
Or anything that’s not…I lost my train of thought.
Want to know where it went?
You.
Straight to you, without consent
Like a fly to honey, I’m stuck in the sticky sweetness of you.
See? Even my similes ****,
Drowning in this sad case of writers block.
My creative flow is barren.
My muse is strangled by thoughts of your silly grin.
I set my pen to paper and waste hours on the sap that is my poetry.
Wondering if there is any hope left for me.

The rabbit quickly ran.
“Run, Cottontail, as fast as you can!”
On his fuzzy heels he sped,
Frightened simply by something he read.
“Must be a lie,” he yelled.
He swore last time he saw the turtle he was fast asleep in his shell.

Yawn… Through the early morning stars.
The glimmer catches my smile as I exhale the night.
I sigh and release the long, dark hours,
And look up to watch the sky ignite.

The warmth ****** the chill on my cheeks,
And dries the dew on my drowsy lips.
I unravel my limbs and flatten my peaks,
Letting the Dawn kindle my flesh with golden drips.

The grass just waking up reaches beneath me.
The leaves whistle sweetly to the trees.
I take a breath of sunshine,
And feel the world around me buzzing.

Finally, I can say
“Good morning.”

Our Love is cold toes wrapped warm in quilts.
Through breaths of frost we share soft memories,
Of vague childhoods woven smug with silk,
Embellishments of our well-worn stories.

Our Love is flushed kisses on chill cheeks,
Heavy eyes spent from the sun in your grin.
Our Love is slapping life into numb feet,
Goosebumps from cold fingers on peeking skin.

Our love is bad timing and words that slip,
They sit in the corner to forget that,
We are tripping head first into the pit,
But, Our Love is not weak and won’t fall flat.

Because Our Love is silly faults and all,
Great battles may rage but we will stand tall.

I sit naked peeling away my skin.
As I shed the sunburn of you, I relent my sins.
My tears sizzle like acid down my blistered  cheeks.
I strip away your lies, flaking and pink.
At first you felt warm and honest on my face, slowly stealing away what's sane.
My faith in myself began to falter, my mind preparing to be a sacrifice on the alter,
Of what used to be self restraint.
You are the master of shame, spreading poison throughout the haze.
I will wash my skin pure and accept no more of your petty lures.
You may again spoil me with ******* or the lack there of,
Until I find myself once more lost in remorse,
But I will not forget the feel of soft skin left in your place and what is true and good in this rabbits race.

She kicks and screams at the solid feeling of longing, of desire.
She struggles against it like the shore against the tide but it just acclimates.
Wrapping itself around her, enclosing about her randomly protruding limbs.
Engulfing her until every drop of air is squeezed from her lungs.
Only then will Life resuscitate her and allow Fate to strangle her once again.

Loosing all sense of equilibrium, her mind scatters.
She starts to panic, to dread. She looses composure and self-awareness.
All she can think of is the sweet taste of air, of the comfort every breath offers.
The thought that she may never savor it again is the terror trembling in her gut.

Spring.
The Trees.
Green, with everlasting beauty.
They hold the very life we breath.
The sound of their rustling leaves, apaisant.
They stretch up to the sky, reaching high.
The most free of all their kind, éclatant.
They leave behind the most peaceful state of mind.

Winter.
The Snow.
It arrives from thin air, blocking out the blue of the sky, étouffer.
Lightly landing on the leaves of our Trees.
Softly singing what seems to be a lullaby, vouloir amadouer.
In truth they **** away the soul.
Frozen and dry, it takes its toll.
Bearing the weight of their sworn enemy, the Trees pray for an extremity.
Another year ends with agony, the Snow glittering with all its glory.

Vaincu

You keep me waiting like cookies cooling on a tray.
How can I make you see that you're the one for me?
Don't you know how exhausting confusion can be?
I beg you to either come to shore or sail away.
Just don't keep the ship another moment at bay.

I can understand the cooling breeze through leaves of threes
But you are my one unsolved mystery
The one person who continues to baffle me

I can understand my darkest of dreams
and all the colored threads holding together my seems.
But no matter the guesses and questions I head
I will always have this need

For answers to the paradox that continues to increase with uncertainty
I'm busting with wonder and doomed curiosity.
Honey, stop leaving me hanging,
Take me by the hand and tell me where we stand.
Help me solve the mystery that keeps on going.

I go where the road takes me
Every twist and turn hopefully less traveled by
Each corner a new surprise.

I am how the wind has carved me
Eroded well beyond weary
Corroded, yet to be discovered, simply a theory

I am how God has made me
Internal and un-telling, amicable and compelling
Deranged and day dreaming, troubled yet never dwelling

I will let life turn me
Into the the woman I'm yet to be
Into a person my future can admire,
Someone those I've left behind can aspire
to remember with a smile
I want to always be worthwhile.

I am so many things I never dreamed I would be.
I see in ways I didn't know I could see.
Reforming the old into the new to keep from rusting.
Decomposing, yet regenerating, constantly readjusting.

There is no telling what's next
For I am the product of "Cause and Effect"
Honestly, describing me in a phrase
Isn't the easiest of ways,
But to say at the least,

I am simply Becoming.

Silly you.
You walk around without a clue.
Or maybe this is your game,
your never ending play by play, day after day.
There aren't enough words that do you justice,
Egotistical. Ignorant. Unrighteous.
You cry and you beg, you don't know why your life's mess.
You feel betrayed, used, second best.
You don't want help, you want pity.
But you made your bed, honey, prepare to lie in it
You push away those who care, you push away those that make you scared
to be yourself or the person you might find deep within
I see right through you, this you've come to know,
So now you've pushed to far, I hope you know, how to go it alone.

Through thick and thin, through loss and sin
You held my hand and encouraged me to look within
You're the one that knows me as I've always been
You've kept me together throughout every weather, acting as my safety pin

We've had out ups and definitely our downs
Needed more than books as pick me ups to turn around our frowns

When I pilled high molehills into mountains
You helped me knock them down to size again

You're the smile behind this ongoing uphill mile
You're the laugh that revives my hang on for a while
You're the encouraging words behind every verse
You're my compass for every course.

You are most importantly my mom
Who is approaching an age where the years are not as long
You're turning an unspeakable age
Finishing an ancient chapter, turning a desolate page

There is one last thing to say
An obvious, over used cliche,
So here, without anymore delay, is your...

Happy Birthday

Slimy sea feet.
Sandy salt tongues.
Gabby gulls and cautious *****.
Boardwalk smiles and sticky ice cream fingers.
Ripened hearts and eager tide eyes.
Tears in my ears from the satisfied sun seeking silence.

This is where I belong.
This is where I know God.

I don’t belong in a town that can offer me nothing.
I don’t belong in a massive city that’ll swallow me up.
I don’t belong at silly soirees or late night parties.
I don’t belong at the top tier or down with the underdogs.

I belong on the shores.
I belong arm in arm with my confidantes, walking through downtown streets of some sweet town.
I belong hand in hand with my true companion with our toes in the sand.
I belong sipping soda with my sisters giggling endlessly as we watch some cheesy chick flick.
I belong hugging my mama who I will never stop loving for an instant.
I belong sitting with my father drinking tea in the purest, sweetest silence, for that is how we were made to be.

I belong listening to my dad’s tall tales and my mothers soothing words.
I belong holding my stomach with my face streaked with tear drops from some joke that is only funny if you were there.
I belong forever in the future with that one, the one whom was made for me; the Tilney to my Catherine.
I belong holding the gazes of my friends as we try to hold back our cackles, tears, and even our own words.

I belong in the waves of the sea.
I only belong in the happiest of salty tears.

I can’t belong where I’m too afraid to face my fears.
I won’t belong in broken gears.
I’ll not for a moment belong in heartbroken wares.  

I’ve never belonged in them, but they live inside me.
They have and always will be
My demons and my skeletons
Yet you will always see them on my sleeves
So everyone can see they do not devour me.

You remind me of summer rays
Fall's forever changing shades
Winter's great gloomy days
Spring time's growing emerald blades

You remind me of warm sunny rain
Golden glowing wheat plains
Infinite ivory glossy glades
Begonias rising from breezy serenades

You are to me as sweet as iced tea
As moody as the salty sea
As far way as the eye can see
As wise as an ancient willow tree
As nosey as a buzzing bee
As trouble free as middle C

You are as kind as your eyes
And as reliable as the sunrise

You are nothing and everything I could think to ask for
Yet you are so much more.

Come. Come into my arms again.

Don’t let me be alone with myself.

The whispers are all I hear in the silence

Screaming truth through my blinded eyes.

No! Stop! Let my own reality deceive me.

Take me back to “your making mountains out of mole hills”.

Rewind to the time where all I knew was laughter.

Take me away to where only the little things mattered.

The place where a smile could set you free and you could be

anything you, anyone you wanted to be.

The times when Daddy’s shoulders felt like the top of the world.

I need to go back to being just a little girl.

You know my faded legacies.
You know my long forgotten glories.
You know all my tall tales and never ending stories.
You know me and the air I breath
The I's from which eye see.
The warm heart from which I bleed.

But you see only the image I let you see.
You can't see that the air is choking me.
That my stories lack a silver lining.
You've forgotten that my eyes are no longer shining.

You don't know that this heart is the reason that I'm always denying.
You recognize my voice but you don't hear the words I'm saying.
You won't hear the words I'm praying, the words that keep me lying.

You see my smile but not how broken it's become.
You'll never see the seems threatening to come undone.

I'm bursting, bursting with secrets,
Secrets screaming my truths with all the proof of my weakness.
I'm pilled high with tears I refuse to cry,
All I've ever done is turn a blind eye.

I've traded in my miseries for the things i'm meant to be,
For the things I want to see.
I've gathered my abstract dreams and stifled screams,
And thrown them over the cliff of insanity.

I swallow hard and refuse the urge to join them,
Because my heart longs for a new place to begin.
My bones are tired, my mind is weak,
Sometimes I even lack the strength to speak.

My ears want to block out the lies,
My heart can't handle anymore goodbyes.
People whisper, people ask "What's wrong with her?", "Do you know what to do?"
They don't understand me when I say "i'm ok just working it through. Trust me I wouldn't keep Anything from you. "

It doesn't matter for they've all betrayed me.
I'll start new and prove I can do anything,
Be anyone I want to be.
No more aching heart, no more slow tears in the dark.
I am who i've always been, nothing will tear me apart.

I read so much poetry i've started to think in rhymes,
then I start to wonder if i'm good enough to write a few lines.

Always thinking in words that'll get me some kind of verse.
Something that sounds not too predictable and hopefully not rehearsed.

I wonder if it in my head is as good as it is written down.
And if out loud it doesn't sound too profound.

I want to create something that has a hook.
Something that makes you take a second look.

It'll be simple but deep from the heart.
Some one will read it and say "that's fine art".

You can call me Ella because i'm enchanted by you.
The way you are and the things that you do.
You never see anything you don't want to.
I wonder if you're enchanted too.

You can call me Ella because i'm cursed.
But the magic here is a spell that can't be reversed.
I'd like to ask my fairy god mother if she knows she gave me the worst.
I wonder if she knew with her gift my life would burst.

You can call me Ella because I live in a fairytale.
Waiting for my prince to come and love to prevail.
I wonder when my fairytale will fall.
Because there's no such thing after all.

He calls himself Peter Pan and he's looking for a new Neverland.
I feel him watching me thinking that I can't see.
But the shadow that he can never quite catch always winks at me when he leaves.

I turn to sneak a peak but I always find he's already looking at me.
I wonder how one can be young for eternity.
Wouldn't it get rather lonely?

I saw him again and he finally said "hello."
It was timid and shy but on the inside he's wild.
I couldn't help myself from my toothy smile.
There was nothing to say but "It took you a while."

We are going strong Peter and I.
In my ear he'll whisper sweet nothings and desire.
I'll just smile and kiss his pink lips.
Because what's left to be desired when you live eternally fighting pirate ships.