We tap-danced in Target
Skipping up and down with
Doublemint and Milky Ways
Twizzlers and the bittersweet chocolate waltzes.

We crouched in the corner
Not to shoplift, just to talk
Exchanging philosophy with paper towels
And lead the paper plates through secrets.

We walked on cracked sidewalks
Chipped with the dubious glances of fate
How many feet have wandered these streets
And how few have really seen?

We sat in the backseat
As the brownish gray fields rushed by
The setting sun stayed suspended in the sky
Burning up the tired atmosphere.

We drank mixed lemonade in chilled, clinking cups
Front porch step afternoons
Frosted glasses drained of sugary pink
Summer expectations.

When I wished innocently in February on
One cold night saturated in body spray
For friendship to be free
I had no idea how lovely life could be.

If I knew a florist
I would call her Fauna
If vegetables had more emotion
We would call them raw.

If trains of thought ever stopped
They would wait in static stations
If writers fought wars
They would squabble for imagine-nations.

If natural disasters happened
In response to heartbreaks
The cities would be reduced to
Rubble in the earthquakes.

If all the world were glazed
In frosted poetry
All the prose and politics
Would cease to disagree.

If in all the valleys of shuddering woe
I could count one battle fought
I would consider it my greatest boon
To defeat a juggernaut.

But thrown throughout the acrid pines
Are drops of leaking light
And sunburns on the soul are painful
Even in the cooling night.

I think you were
Proud of me
I was always your
Little girl
You forgot I wasn't
Little anymore but even
When you couldn't show it
You still loved me.

Were you proud of me
When I played guitar and
Sang badly or well, depending
Because you loved it?
Even after he told you the
Secret I wanted you to
Die not knowing because
I didn't want to hurt you?

Would you be
Proud of me today if
You'd been dealt a fairer hand?
Would you love to hear
The poetry I write in smeared
Pencil and read aloud to airy rooms?

Would you smile when I
Let loose a sizzling lick
On the guitar I bought with
Money you left me?

Would you hurt when I
Stood in that hallway crying?

Well, tonight I turned sixteen
She sent me money in a sappy card and
A scarf and I called her and you
Weren't there to hear.
Tonight I turned sixteen and
They gave me a beautiful ring
Would you have been in on
The secret?

You weren't there
You weren't there
You weren't there
I wasn't there.

Erase another line keep
On trying to forget but I
Can't ignore these
Graphite graveyards.

Would you love to see me
Stand tall and become
Beautiful, a leader
Myself?

Wherever you are tonight
Do you wish you could
Know the me that losing you
Made into me?

Because I'm proud of me, I
Smile, I hurt, I love, I
Wish, I wish
I wish
I miss
You.

February always makes me feel
Cheated.

Only twenty-eight days
Three less than
It could be.

February always makes me feel
Confused.

On the twenty-eighth you go to bed
When you wake up sometimes
It's March
And other times
It's not.

Are February's feelings
Hurt?

Who picked the second month
When the year is just beginning
Who picked February to be the one
To die young?
Why not another month, why
February?

Did they merely want to
End winter
Faster?

February always makes me feel
Cheated.

I like pretending I'm not alone
Tap my head and ask if I'm home
Ignore you, ignore you until you go
Because always and always, the answer is "no".

I'll turn on the radio, I don't own this station
Start spinning words, build-up burnt-down nations
Uncomfortable thinking, move down a level
Until, underneath, my pen's killed my devils.

I like pretending I'm not alone
I like sending words into empty phones
Pretend you don't see, invent your excuse
Nothing's concrete when you're a recluse.

Lie on this mattress, suppose it's not mine
Tonight I'm done telling myself I'll be fine
Only my lines, a partial illusion
Breathing in deep the confusion of fusion.

Him and I we never were
Never will, never wish until you are sure
All princes are frogs and all males mice
Let's go back to third grade when they all had lice.

I like pretending I'm not alone
So easy to be lost in this cast-iron zone
Maybe one day my walls will fall down
When I find the one who inverts my frown.

Speed bump vendettas
Hit the gas and watch it go
In our winding opinions we're constantly making wrong turns
But to look at the mileage, you'd never know.

I'm walking on the yellow line
Lean to the left and lean to the right
And hope that you don't die tonight
The road to Hell is paved with good intentions
So I guess we're living in a hard-hat zone.

Streetlights can be cruel when they're showing parts of me
Streetlights are heavy when they highlight what you can't see
We keep parking too far from the curb
As we keep overspending our words.

You watch the cars, I'll watch the street
Our thoughts in the headlights, they never meet
Maybe our ideas are all we'll ever be
You keep counting yellow lines, disregarded like me.

We'll take turns backseat driving
Maybe that's the only way we keep surviving.

Heartbreak tastes like
A bitter root, grown from
Lonely nights spent building
Airy sky castles made of
Imitation crystals or golden clouds
Lined with silver.

Dreams, hopes, stacked to
The stars and back
And yet afraid to be felt
Content with staying hidden in atmosphere.

Atmospheric empowerment, it's all
Just one of those subsidiary
Illusions, a lost line of
Endless pushing to be real.
I cannot create something that
Was never meant to exist
Not even the sheets of feeling that try
To choke the wasted, flowered beds.

Watch the fresh spring dirt until
Something happens, maybe it
Grows or moves, perhaps the ground
Talks, just wait, you'll see
Someday the sky and all its
Seemingly hopeless objections of freedom
One of these days, in perseverance
The sky will find a way
To touch the earth, to befriend soil
And reconcile the trees, to forgive, but
Will the heavens ever
Run to the ends of themselves?

I had a dream once
Where I stood in a
Dark city and stared
Up at the tall rectangle of
A skyscraper, watching the
Squares of light reflected
Although there were no
Streetlights, just the vague
Idea that the moon must
Be out there somewhere.

Lost somewhere came a
Muffled sound, the faraway echos
Of a darkened city needing
No light.
And in the dream I had
Deeply poetic thoughts about
The invincible silence contained
In noise and the languid light
Minced in frenetic darkness.
I felt the feelings of the
Tousled screams of loneliness
Trapped in oceans of men
And the panicked skepticism of
Sinking ships, falling into asphalt.

Unfortunately before the thought
Was entirely formed I
Woke up and
Couldn't remember any of it.

I live in an
Enchanted Forest.

If you were to pull up
The shaggy rug and
Peer between the blonde floorboards
You would see the grassy carpet.
Behind the bookcase stands
A grove of old, wise trees.

Scrape away the ceiling to see
A cloudless blue sky
Echoed by the secret pond
Beneath the window, and at nights
The purple lava lamp
Becomes the moon.

Under my zebra sheets
Is a mossy bed of magic
And in my dresser drawers grow
Patches of wildflowers, eagerly
Awaiting the day I wear
The t-shirts covering them.

Hear the echos of the laughter
The elfin mirth hiding in
Country radio, can't you hear
The fairies plucking my
Guitar strings, as the wild
Animals sing along?

I live in an Enchanted Forest
But it doesn't take perfume to smell the magic.

Rules are only boundaries
Set in place to break
People only want to see
The side of you that's fake.

I walk on the wrong side of the street
I live my life toe-tapping to the backbeat.

I can't dance or even clap
Rocking in my own little world
They don't hear the backbeat
And so call me absurd.

Thunk-tap, thunk-tap
***** that bounce, jump ropes turn
All you hear is thunk, the tap
A language you can't learn.

Try to cover me, the shushing falls in sheets
But try as you might, you can't drown out the backbeat.

Think of life with no backbeat
Thunk thunk it's simple song
A perfect and boring example
Of where we all went wrong.

Thunk-TAP, thunk-TAP
The backbeat comes back in, beginning now to swell
Thunk-TAP, thunk-TAP, thunk-TAP, thunk-TAP
Faster, louder, a rhythm you can't quell.

This is who I am, I'm turning up the heat
Rendering you uncomfortable in the echo of my backbeat.

I had no mirror
No mirror that could look into my heart
So I went out and spent ten dollars
Buying one from Walmart.

Mirror, mirror, on the wall
Who is the fairest of them all?

I asked the question and
It sneered in reply
Mocking as it stated the answer --
Anyone but I.

Standing back I was startled
To see my face distorted
So I asked once more
To see what it reported.

Mirror, mirror, on the wall
Who is the fairest of them all?

"The ones in magazines," it told me
"And your friends with perfect luck
But it can be you, too
If you do as I instruct.
Change your eyes, your smile
Change your clothes and hair
Change everything uniquely you
And I will make you fair."

Here's to all prospective mirror buyers
Don't purchase them from Walmart, the ones they sell are liars.

Wet, fuzzy skins
Slipping over the
Cool metal, the
Sticky black handle.

Juicy sweet slices of
Pure summer, slipping through
My lips, perfect, more
Exquisite than any candy could be.

Like light that drips
Through the open kitchen window
With the sweat that drips
Down my neck, salty hot.

A sunset, pooling on the horizon
Cool descending, fluttering
A night bird to the earth
Softly covering the sugary happiness.

A thunderstorm, exploding
Releasing floodgates of
Delight, pounding on the
Roof, puddling in the yard.

Sprinkle, just a pinch, cinnamon
Mix it up with brown sugar
And sweet skies, afternoon tunes
Pour it in a crust of
Evening cool, cover in a doughy blanket
Put it in that deep heat of
July, leave for awhile and take out
Your perfect peach pie, summer in a pan.

Coffee stains and exploding pens
Rumpled paper pages and combusting lipgloss
Love, hate, joy, anger, confusion
Running, skipping
Falling, tripping
Dashing down the sidewalk
Late running, running late?
Never mind my frazzled mind.

Sweater sleeves and spinning spirals
Starry eyes, broken melodies
Like glass that shatters when
You break a string, popping
Like popcorn, nestled in
The river's glaring
Night reflections of fate
The perfect metaphor.

Birds fly, headphones break
Words read, hearts ache
Rhymes never last longer than
A line or two before
They're lost to me forevermore
That scarf of captured rainbows
I miss like an old friend
Spots of glitter, blots of paint.

Blue jeans, ballgames, autumnal skies
Chipped china, it's on days
Like this I wish I simply
Had a lint roller for my brain.

I live in an
Enchanted Forest.

Where woodland animals appear
In misty twilight from behind
The mineral-stained shower curtain
And dewdrops sparkle on
The toothpaste-spattered
Mascara-blotted mirror.

Tiny little elves
Rumple my sheets and
Throw my clothing on the floor
Magic fairies dance over
The dresser top and eyeliner-strewn vanity
To the mystical, elusive strains of Owl City.

Mushroom jewels spring up
In my closet while I sleep
Dreaming of princes and turning sixteen
Ruling a kingdom and graduating highschool
Christmas lights twinkle like the
Multicolored stars of a fantasy night.

I spend my days in
This little woodland cottage
My loyal mutt snoring on her rug
Notebooks lined up on
A shelf with drying herbs
Chattering mice and potions of tired hopes.

I live in an Enchanted Forest
Or maybe I just sprayed too much perfume again.

Do walls listen
Do chairs
Call up their friends at night
To tell them all my secrets?

Do couch cushions ever
Groan with the weight
Of people
And their feelings?

Do rugs spy?
Do pillows fear?
Do end tables lie?
Do bookshelves hear?

Do stuffed frogs comprehend
That they're hearing all my thoughts?
Or are they merely upset
That I squish them too hard?

Do lamps remember
What I said last week?
Do potted plants and decorations
Gossip among themselves?

Do floors ache
When they hear the truth
Finally spoken from my lips
Do walls listen?

Nose pressed against the cold glass
Blinking at the streetlights
That are trying to outshine the stars
That retreated behind their clouds.

Watching the orange bulbs
Glaring relentlessly at me
Marching in straight lines
Along the street.

Because at some point
The lights started to think
That in their overwhelming number
They outnumbered the stars.
And that in their sophistication
They were better than the fireflies
And the stars and fireflies left
Leaving the streetlights to rule.

But there is none of that
Familiar choking in my throat
And the weirdest calm
In my head.
And that is stranger than
The streetlights governing
But not as gnawing as
The empty space in me.

If I could give you
A thousand smiles
I would bottle them up
For you to take out on a rainy day.

If I could give you
A million hugs
I would put them in a box
And write your name on the lid.

If I could give you
Ten thousand perfect days
I'd put them in a saltshaker
And sprinkle them out on you one by one.

Some nights
I pick up my pencil
Open up my book
And the words flow
Like water, calm, cool
Smoothly winding, bitter wine
Sweet golden honey emotions.

Some nights
I can't quite
Gather up my thoughts
Churning out slowly
Stilted memories
Like a faraway, distantly sparkling party.

Some nights
I sharpen said pencil to a needle-point
Flip through the book
Reread old thoughts
Stare at the last page
Glaring, sad, blank
And have no thoughts to fill it with.