For a species that I love so much,
they just can't seem to hate enough.
But I won't quit,
I'm not a quitter--
this withered heart
will never bitter.
I'd rather live with love and pain,
than get the chance to say I'm sane.

I couldn't keep my sanity,
while studying humanity.
At least that's the excuse I make
when episodes are hard to take.

I never had, I think,
the chance--
I swear I'd blink and
sounds would swirl inside my ears.
Paranoia induced tears but
I've been watching people lately,
wondering just what is 'crazy'?

Sometimes I think it's not just me,
they too can't find reality.
But even more they waste their lives,
while I sit back and cherish  mine.
Ignore each other and poke at screens--
do they wonder what life means?
I do.
Constantly.
And maybe that is why I'm me,
and me.

do you want to sleep in a sweater with me. . . swim in a comforter with me. . . listen to soft music with me ?

do you want to whisper a while. . . let me kiss your smile. . . make a two - person - kitten - pile ?

do you want a white wall behind us. . . silver glitter and moon dust. . . spread out , compacted , vitamin trust ?

do you want these things that i want ?

do you want me in the way that i want
you ?

in all of the ways that i want you ?

it's okay if you do ,
because me too .

do you want to ?

We're friends, in the light.
You hug me playfully and scruffle my hair.
Maybe a kiss on the cheek.
But then the lights go down in the house,
and we listen to the performers sing.
Our hands touch like they used to.
You poke my nose and blow raspberries on my face.
I breathe playfully into your ear, like a puppy.
And you stroke my hair as I get sleepy.
I'm more awake when we get into the fight:
"I'm gonna pick your nose!"
"No, I'm gonna get yours!"
We giggle and get hushed.
We hoot and holler toward the stage at the end of each song.
I long to touch you, to kiss those lips I kissed for two years.
I know exactly how they'd feel.
Small and smooth, never chapped like mine.
I press your glasses
up the bridge of your nose
because I know you hate that.
We are kids again.
Before our first kiss, first dance.
There are nearly ten
green glowing exit signs around us,
and I just need
to waltz with you
under them
like we used to.
You mention his name a lot,
and I shift uncomfortably
with ***** envy
just like 9th grade, right?
When you told me I didn't need one
after the kids told me about you and that guy.
I cried for days.
When the show ended,
we went to the bathroom together
and you complained about your hair.
We drifted outside, into the twilight,
and sang some songs.
One of them, which we harmonized beautifully on,
was "I can't help falling in love with you..."
and I followed you all around the front of the building,
swaying and letting some notes fly by
into the warm wind.
You do not love me like you used to.

We're us, when we're secluded.
You rode home with me,
so that I could have someone there for me
when I went to that stupid party.
It was my first one.
We got to my house,
and I showed you around,
because before, I had only been to yours.
Your cute, sweet home
with the garden in the back
that we nestled into
while kissing under the sun.
You moved into a different one last year, I guess.
I undressed in front of you,
to put comfier clothes on.
You averted your eyes as if
that night
three years ago
didn't happen.
The one where
we snuck upstairs
away from the birthday party,
and caressed each other
in the blue night.
I hurriedly put the rest of my clothes on
because maybe in that moment
I forgot too.
We headed into the kitchen
where we planned to bake a cake.
You did most of the work
and I watched you
in love all over again
with your concentrated face
as you took this cake
way too seriously,
as if it were one of your drawings.
I said I'd pour that batter right on top of you,
and you objected.
I said then we could save water
(I had planned to shower),
you said:
"are you asking me to take a shower with you?"
with that face that just kills me.
I stuttered, spitted,
"N-no! I just..."
"Because" you said, going back to whisking, "all you'd have to do is ask".
My face, my everything
was hot.
Breathy objections flew out of my mouth,
just nonsense.
"You'd get in trouble,"
you laughed.
"Yeah,"
I said.
We packed up and walked over to the location.
You did not hold my hand.
I did not expect you too.

Mmm ***** little plastic pink chair
fit my tender tendencies.
Baby worm
fit on my leaf house,
made it just for you my love.
Scratch the stickers
off my shiny, scuffed shoes.
Cry fat tears at pretty things with me?
'M real good at doing it alone.
I-MAG-INE.
I-
MAG-
INE-
like I still do?
That's so fine if you don't do it too.
Fake lipstick I feel you
spreading your fake color on my lips.
And it's so much more real
than the real thing.
M-U-TED
M-
U-
TED-
colors
and me?
Yes, yes and it's good.
Don't cry for me, Outsidee,
when I see my end
I am in the beginning.
Always in me
is a different world
than you live in.
You watch me stare and pet my surroundings,
skipping or sulking.
You do not see the world?
Mhm, that's okay,
it makes me giggle and cry.
Lightly swirl your fingers
around my bellybutton, a little while?
In the fan-cooled night.
In the stick-one-leg-out night.
With taped cartoons in the back
to send me into a dreamland?
As long as you don't bring me back,
and take me away
from my mattress commercials,
I'm so good.
I'm so good.

I can see commercials on a rounded screen
--of beaches and hourglasses.
I look around, but my eyes stop at certain parts
of the dim room.
The sunshine pouring through the window is ***** and beautiful.
It's just like an old photograph,
low quality and burnt orange at the edges.
It smells like cigarette ash and worn furniture and stale cat ***.
It feels like home and all I want to do is eat salt and sleep.
I know there are other rooms, I know where they are.
But this,
this living room is all I need.
Grandpa's chair looks so full even when it's empty.
His salt shaker looks so tempting...
There are holes in it where his cigarette cherry dropped off.
Everything is orange and brown and faded.
Outside that house it was a dangerous world.
But with only an unlocked door separating me from it,
I felt safe.
Let me sleep there once again,
and let him fill the chair, won't you?

The happy worms are where the moist dirt lies.*

The happy worms are where the moist dirt lies, the moist dirt lies where the worms are happy.

The happy worms are where the moist dirt lies, the moist dirt lies where the worms are happy, and the sleepy leaves lie on top.

yes, yes you can look through my heart just
just let me fall asleep first
and make sure
you tiptoe your way through
don't step on
those insults I've kept
don't trip over
those names sticking out like roots
you can walk around the pity if you want
but empathy is what you're walking on
you can't get away from that
neither can I
you can sit in the compassion chairs
everyone says they're so nice
please ignore the band aids on the walls
I'm supposed to get stitches someday
at least that's what mom says
that corner labeled "self love"
please stay away from that
I've worked so ******* it
and when you leave
please keep the door unlocked
I don't have a key

Universe #2: So how've you been? Anything new?
Universe #1: Yeah you know actually one of my pets, Earth, has had this life problem for a while now.
Universe #2: Dang, that always *****. How long?
Universe #1: I dunno like, maybe 3...4 billion years?
Universe #2: Aw, well that's not that long! You could try some pesticides.
Universe #1: That's the thing, I have. Disease, Free Will, Karma--nothing works! And the worst part is, it's too late..
Universe #2: What do you mean?
Universe #1: I let it go on for too long. The life went freaking crazy and started hurting Earth. She's on her last leg...
Universe #2: I'm sorry buddy. That's just how they go sometimes.

I swear I'm not in love with him.
The boy with the super glued heart and lingering smile.
With the feathered name and soft kisses.
I swear I swear I swear I'm not.
But I live, for what he gives...
I live for the moments that bring me back,
the moments that take
the broken springs
from under my back.
And these moments are produced by his presence.
I live for personalities like his,
lacking adjective for the sole fact that he is
the only one that emanates such a state and way of life.
He is the only one to own this armor that is indistinguishable from his skin.
I live for independence and codependence.
Both of which he blesses me with.
He doesn't see the need for harshness and punishment due to flaws. My flaws.
I live for nature.
The same nature as his flesh that melts into the background of the trees, as the shift between his daytime talk and his nighttime swim through my veins.
I live for the yearning of something in the distance.
And he-- he is the most beautiful horizon I've ever reached out to touch. I live for things like him.
And there is nothing like him.
So here's the question. Do I live for nothing...or do I live for him?
I live for him.
But I swear I'm not in love with this boy... (okay, so maybe I am).

Well, little ****** had been caught in a maze
she married Mr. Cat in their honeymoon phase
On their little farm, a dish they would raise
but the cow and the dog, well they bet on days...

Little ****** knew about the Fiddle and the Cat
and she swore to herself that she would get them back
So, one night she popped up in the middle
and mean old Mr. Cat made a killer out of ******

"Woah! My perfect life!" She cried out with tears in her eyes
"Tell me, what I did wrong!" But a moo and a cackle interrupted her song

On the little farm
the dog and the cow
looked innocent as they lay on the ground
but ****** saw the cow jump to the moon
to see ****** **** the man that had made her swoon

The dog laughed and laughed 'til his face turned red
the cow paid in full as he had won the bet
The sound made ******
itch in the head
so she took a nearby ax and she
killed them dead

"Woah! My perfect life!" She cried out with tears in her eyes
"Tell me, what did I do?"
But she had no clue as to what would happen soon

Well little miss Dish was the talk of the town
Her and the Spoon had been forkin' around
When momma ****** tried to hunt them down
her baby Dish was nowhere to be found

"Woah! My perfect life! Shouldn't have been a mom or a wife"
So a traveler she became, making Goose her name
The towns had no idea of the words that they sang:

"Hey ****** ******, the Cat and the Fiddle
The cow
jumped over the moon
The little dog laughed to see such sport
and the Dish ran away with the Spoon"

I lay sick with fits of tears.
Concussion of the heart.
I walk around to shake it off.
It only makes it worse.
To pretend.
To try to be happy while my brother endures excruciating pain.
Yes, it is my birthday tomorrow.
But I wish it weren't.
Because I don't want to be happy for a long time.
Not until his bones heal.
Not until his mind heals.
Brother, if you can hear me:
I would give anything for you to feel better.
I'm so sorry that I can't be with you.
I gave my birthday money to mom so she could fly down there.
To see you, and thank the man who pulled you out in the nick of time.
I know I always wanted to see you cry.
For all the years you bullied me.
But now I want nothing more than for you to stop crying.
Because you don't get hurt.
Not my big brother.
Not you.
I know I always said I hated you.
But I don't.
I love you.
I love you so, so, so, so much, Clyde.
More than you will ever know, I love you.
Mom told me not too long ago, about when we were little.
She said that no matter what you did, I still defended you.
And when you were punished, my heart broke for you.
I remember crying, when you would sneak out.
When you did drugs.
When you went to jail.
Because you're so amazing.
Your soul is beautiful, to me.
I have always been there for you.
No matter what you put me through.
I will always be there for you.
And I will not let you down tonight, or any other night.
I will fight for you, and make sure you're in good hands.
**** me to Hell if I let Dad so much as look at you again.
You'll be okay soon, I promise.
I love you, goodnight.

we are 1

hate 2 hate
love 2 love

3 words to say
3 is a crowd
3 a.m. date-night

you're what I live 4
you're who I write 4
what are letters 4?
a 4 letter word

Society has people thinking they must,
people find it hard to trust,
teens build sadness until they combust,
and "perfect" is just a few flaws away...
A world so puzzling with nowhere to fit,
narrow minds thinking this is it,
cold souls and fire we spit,
and we find cons in all of our days.
Keeping one eye on the clock,
no patterns yet we hate to be shocked,
to subtle addictions we flock,
and we wonder why we're in dismay...
Adjusting for a fulfilling life,
getting ****** and kissing knives,
but we're always so surprised,
when we come to our leaving day.

Friends are flowers in the garden of life,
In spring bloom as husband or wife.
An addition to family,
Until the very end,
No flaw too great, for a lifelong friend.
The rose she was pretty,
But needed much on her platter.
The tulip, he said, dis'proved of the matter!
And so they wilted, both in different lines,
'Til they finally crossed,
When the sun had to shine.
The rose she realized,
Had enough to carry.
The tulip he said, all beauty varies.
And so they grew on, until their very end.
No flaw too great, for a lifelong friend.

None of the others compare
to the one we shared
last night.

5 am
WAKE UP
I am wasting my life, sleep, health, five days a week
6:45 am
ANXIETY HURTS MY CHEST
crap I'm late
7:30 am
WAS THAT DUE TODAY?
gotta do that after school
w--
2 pm
GOT MY TEST BACK
okay no more laziness, I'm getting stuff done at home
wh--
2:35 pm
WAKE UP IT'S YOUR STOP
so tired, so tired, so tired
3:50 pm
WAKE UP GO GET YOUR SISTER
I wasted an hour...
7 pm
wouldn't you like to write poetry instead? It's okay if you do..
10 pm
STAY AWAKE FINISH YOUR HOMEWORK
I'm going to hate myself in the morning
why--
?

I really don't like
feeling like I'm about to throw up
when people are mad at me.
And I really don't like
feeling like I'm going to die
when I think for a split second that
someone will leave me.
I am so codependent,
that every dream I have,
I am with someone or in a crowd.
And my worst fear is
waking up
to an otherwise empty world.
I live for others.
Helping, loving, appreciating them.
And that is not okay for me.
Because nobody
can love as much as I do.
I was 7 years old when my mother told me that
loving everyone is a blessing and a curse,
and said that it's best I didn't
tell that girl I loved her
when she scraped her knee.
I have been feeling the affects
of this blessing/curse
my whole life.
And still,
all I want
is for someone to
at least
let me love them
like they should be loved
like I should be loved.

I used to like scene guys
then I had mean guys
I just want nice guys
but they're hard to come by
          .
I used to like crazy girls
found a few nice girls
made them my whole world
but always said goodbye
          .
And there were others
so sweet and
so kind
           .
We somehow knew each other
their pronouns like mine
           .
But of course
I don't deserve
such a beautiful treat
            .
I don't get kind
and I don't get sweet
            .
I get the crazy
I get the mean
I love everybody
and give what they need

I guess I love you so
More than you'll ever know,
Because you never knew
The years I hid it from you.
There is a fresh faced me,
And a said "broken" you.
Though your heart is unscathed
And mine is glued.
This I mean
In the most romantic of terms,
I know that many loved ones
Have laid down their burns.
But here we are,
Defying pessimism
With our naked hearts
And undying optimism.
Where shreds of doubt and fear should be,
Instead I give you all of me.
"Take my hand,
take my whole life too"
Because no one on this earth
Will ever amount to you.

That night filled with
stomach dropping
heart stopping
reality shattering fear
is no more.

Mmm, tell them
tell them he's coming home.

That boy covered by
man features,
rap-music preachers,
and anger induced tears--
is no more...

Mmm! Tell them he's coming home...

I saw that man today
climb some steps while I stood shocked.
He gave his hand a raise
and put his key in the lock.
Throughout all my days,
I never even thought
that I'd see the one where he
finally fled the flock.

So I tell them.
Tell them he's coming home.

I tell them.
Tell them he's coming home.

I saw that man today,
that's all I can say.
Just that fact alone
makes me thank God every day.
In all my heavy years!
I never thought I'd say
that I almost lost my brother,
and I wanted him to stay.

So I'll tell them.
Yes, yes, I'll always tell them.
I will tell them...

I'll tell them he's coming home.

What's your favorite thing to do on a rainy day?
We could laugh and talk about the things you'd never say
You could tell me all your secrets baby girl
You know I can keep them from the world
You say we ain't got nothing to do
I say we ain't got nothing to lose
Just say the word and we could do anything
What's your favorite thing to do on a rainy day?

What's your favorite thing to do on a stormy night?
We could have ourselves a nice little pillow fight
Dripping cocoa as I carry you down the stairs
Oh baby I'll let you cut my hair
You say we ain't got nothing to do
I say we ain't got nothing to lose
Just say the word and we could turn on the lights
What's your favorite thing to do on a stormy night?

What's your favorite thing to do on a sunny day?
We could stay here and relax in an orange haze
I could tell you I love you in every way
Or I could stare into your loving gaze
You say we ain't got nothing to do
I say we ain't got nothing to lose
Just say the word and I will feel okay
What's your favorite thing to do on a sunny day?

In a giant, scary world full of wonder and chaos,
I am little.
I am tiny and I have known it since I was young.
I would have thoughts about waking up and coming to the realization that I was really a grain of sand.
I grew up with no voice, no muscles, no anger.
I only had my imagination,
and the passionate love that I felt for all things living.
In recent years,
I have found more of a voice,
I have gained a thin layer of muscle,
a spark of anger.
I have grown into the person that I want to be.
All I need is someone who I can give all of my massive amounts of love to.
Someone who is deserving of the person that I have strived to become,
and someone who will stick by my side and make the world seem a little less scary.
A partner, a friend, a true love.
And I have found him.

We would all be better dancers,
  if we tried not to step on ants.

    We would all be better singers,
      if we spoke about what matters.

        We would all be better painters,
          if we held hands with a gentle grip.

            We would all be better poets,
              if we put our souls on paper.