We're jagged edges,
Some bits of us eroded over time,
We dance around cliff ends and ledges;
Play with fire, love and ice and rhyme,
We are writers,
We give the words their souls because our eyes
Betray our inner fighters,
Take away our pens and realize-
That children of the dawn
Are born into the darkest black of night;
And cynics can be lovers,
And only those who break can prove their might,
Let’s try,
Let’s meet and fall apart
Because you and I
Are like two pieces of a heart.

I want to be on the back of a whale
Surrounded by beaches and palm trees,
The only danger is coconut hail,
The only confinement- a warm breeze.
And if the volcano way back there erupts,
I’ll become a balloon and I’ll float off like dust,
And if the whale goes under a bit,
I’ll hold my breath and go under with it.

I swing from the monkey bars,
From arm to arm, from mind to heart;
Touch base and then let go,
Lose grip and then regain my hold.

Fall down, scrape my knee,
I’m alive because I bleed,
Swinging high scarily, for
I’ll go flying as soon as I let go.

Secrets in the sand,
Things that should be covered, and
Castles blow away,
I can make nothing that stays.

Sometimes on the seesaw
You can’t get off the ground,
But be careful before you start
Throwing your weight around.

Sometimes you have a friend,
Sometimes you play alone,
And the older you are the harder it is
To find your way back home

The advantages of a pseudonym
Are reasons to write under a real name,
For to even those who know me
I am anonymous

The notes caressed.
They opened windows
when I saw no doors.
They beat with my heart
and ran down my face,
wet and stinging and salty.
And even when they were too much
I could stand them when they were loud,
when they were hammers on my soul,
when I couldn't bear them to be gentle.
The notes could laugh,
and if I could see them,
some would look like my smile.
And when panicked they'd all left,
I snatched yet more out of the air
and held them to my chest.
They were sobs that held me
when my body wracked apart,
they were all that was left to love of me.
But now the pain has grown
too sharp to bear within,
now I'm all ache and no song.
All lonely nights of strangers
and dreams of those familiar
with no self of which to speak.
Faces have taken their place,
some for whom I care,
others less.
Now, if I'd let them in,
they'd worm their way into my cracks
and weaken me till shattering.
Now, they all sound like mistakes
and people's voices and things
I wish someone would frighten away.
The notes didn't matter so
when a man could take their place
and I knew who he was.
And they weren't needed
before I knew something was missing
and had at least a name to whisper.
But now the notes just hurt.

Looking for love
Is like waving your hand
Through the stardust above,
Expecting contact.

Walk through it-
It sparkles in your hair;
It sticks to your skin-
You think it's really there.

It's a life of chasing vapor
Whose existence you can't prove.
The realization will settle
And eventually, so will you.

And you will always yearn.
Your heart will always burn
With a flame you haven't found,
And you've not the sense to be earthbound.

Your hand and your eyes
Will remain in the sky
And there they'll remain,
While your heart plummets again.

If it shames you,
If it shocks you,
If no one ever cared enough
To brave it through for you,
If that's not how it was done-
                                  Then run.
Shirk responsibilities,
Hold on to old hostilities,
Ensure a future
For your daughter
Full of mistakes you've already made.
             Do not grace her with faith,
Do not bestow your care upon her-
Let her think it was never there.
Cigarettes, alcohol,
                   Heartache, adolescence
Just ******* and
                  Regular flirtations and relationships-
Don't tell her to say no.
Just make sure she knows
                  They're unforgivable, all of them;
(Make sure she knows both shades that life can offer,
Raise her awareness of the wonderful choice
Between white and black.)
                 Fabricate the pretense that in this 21st century
                 She'll never come across them, not once.
Tell her that safe *** is not
Something she should know about
Because she will just not do it
                               Ever, period
And experimentation with substances and heck,
Even with people, are crimes
That only criminals commit.

And she will learn despite you.
And she will do things to spite you,
And one day, she'll grow old enough to hate you
And she won't care or feel the need
To explain her side of things
Because she will find happiness in her way
And she will have survived long enough
To have learned how to cut you from her heart.
And she won't even have to see you,
And the day will come
When you've become
Just a subject of her art.