17 years later I still see her face.
I see her in the glamorous moue of some random starlet,
I see her in the tilt of the nose of the checkout girl.
I see her in the curve of the cheek, the bend of the elbow, the small of some strangers back.

I barely remember her, it was so long ago.
I have been without much longer than with, but she still haunts me.

everyday.

I see her face in the mirror and I understand
why my stepmother hated me.
it's alright,
its all tight its all ok.

What would she think of the woman I have become?
Would we be friends?
Would we be at odds?
Even after all the choices I made,
the hearts and laws I have broken,
would she still love me?

I don’t know where I’m going
but I want to take you with me.

I will pack you in my suitcase,
next to the pants I’ll never wear,
and pull you out on rainy days
when I am missing home.

I will shower you clean with kisses
and iron away your creases
with my finger tips.
When I tuck you into bed
my body will be your blanket.

And while you sleep,
I will cradle my head against your chest,
a pillow I have never slept upon,

and count the number of heartbeats it takes
to realize that this is all just

wishful thinking.

5:01
I've seen it many times.

Once was while running,
over fences,
through yards,
across lots,
I had to be faster,
I was,

Once while I layed there,
my arm was around her,
we shared the warmth,
my lips pressed against her forehead,
my eyes closed,
she pulled me closer,

Once while driving,
my body numb,
I felt invulnerable,
I knew I was,
I survived,

I've noticed it again,
at this moment,
sometimes nothing happens.

I watched you pick the pieces up,
and carefully set them down.
Where no more harm could come to them,
no more in tears they'd drown.

I watched you carefully wipe them dry,
and blow away the dust,
with love and tenderness your tools,
you cleaned away the rust.

And then I watched you take each piece,
and work out where it went.
And soon my heart was whole again,
'cause of the time you spent.

And finally I watched,
as you brought it back to life,
with the words that you would love me,
that you would be my wife.

And now my heart is strong again,
your presence makes it sing.
Now I give to you the rest of me,
together, with this ring.

when he said, "this is
my note, after all, thats
what people do, right?
leave a note?" my heart
completely caved
      >     in.    <

when my teacher said
that a lot of people
commit suicide due to
bullying or because they
feel unaccepted,
i raised my hand to
speak up about the
facts.


the true facts.

how more than half of the
homeless teenage population
are gay. they were kicked out
by their mums and dads.

how its not just the
bullying, how its
them too.

they feel so alone and
we always wonder why
there is a new name in
the paper saying,
"Suicide--Age --"
and yet because of
someone being p    u s h  e       d
to                                                      far

it made them take
their own life.

i wish i could stop
suicides,
i wish for once
i could be the one who
closed the door on
death.

but im no rolemodel,
i always let death
back in.

but that doesnt mean i
wont help you take
him out.

He was a boy with beautiful eyes
and an appreciation for colorful socks and generic tea.

A boy that played the drums and went to festivals.
The kind of festivals that left him longing for a proper shower
and his mother's pork belly stew.

He dyed his hair a fitting shade of black
And though he was underwhelmed by the idea of anything romantic
his use of smiley emoticons was enough to make up for it.

He taught me the importance of learning to appreciate cheap wine
and the power of using compliments sparingly.

He was the kind of boy that would be fun to spoon,
or so I assume
because I've never met him.