i am a rectangle
because i too have dark, dusty corners
and sharp edges

and you can fold me 1000 times
but i will still be the same
i will never change for you

I will always be the strongest
and biggest
among my family

because i come from generations of
tiny waists and dainty wrists,
of little feet and fragile frames

of empty rectangles with soft corners
and simple lines and ribs and
what you might call petite

but i am a different being
and therefore i do not fit
in any of my grandmother's dresses

i could blame my bones
or my health or my happiness
but i see only distortion and mutation

and i should have been tinier
and i should have been skinnier
but i am me and that is that

and when i see my mother
and my two beautiful sisters
i tower and glower and envy

for i am alone in my body
while even my twin stays smaller
while i grow and glow and glare

I exist as a mirror
Wild lights have glazed over your skin
My whispers are tarnished
Our bodies a shield
Against the coming chills of a brittle wind

I linger with a breeze-like touch,
It comes out hoarse and swollen.
Thoughts  uttered with a breath of regret
Or a sigh of relief.

Your face turns foreign, a mesh of dark warmth
A light without the sun.
We’re all a wounded red
on the inside.

my hands are made of natural things
maybe i am only blood and bones
made to last only shortly
quickly slowly dying

all the colours of the world won't fill me
I long for emotions of gold
for an ice cold ocean
raindrops to break the cycle

searching for your earrings on his earlobes
memories embroidered everywhere
on my walls are pictures and meanings
I try to nurture flowers from my flesh

maybe I should stop writing poetry for you anyway
you don't get my symbols
no matter how obvious the metaphors
your ears will not listen.

You're my moon.

here i sit and memories swarm out in front of me
unwinding moments which come undone
they have been tucked away tightly
until now

i pick up scents of have-beens
i close my eyelids and i remember
i dance with you again in yesterdays of the past
reminiscing is sweet

sometimes i dream of the past
i try and tell you all the yearnings of my heart
with my eyes
try to warn of the tragedy that is inevitable

at the end of these wandering golden dreams
which only last for seconds
you look at me one last time,
i try to hold your beautiful hand,
try to keep you with me longer,
you tell me with your eyes
and i hear you
i can hear you leaving me
all over again

I think I want to believe in people
And the magic that our bones hold,
We are brittle but we breathe
I have taken breath day in and day out
I don’t know how.

I think I want to believe in humanity
And the togetherness of bonding over our most obvious shared physicality
We are human.

I have a friend
Who is beautiful
And kind
But I am losing her
To the dark side
No not to anything life threatening
Yet
It is this thing called
Popularity
And she wants it
And I'm pretty sure she would do anything
Not to feel invisible
That is a long list
I am worried
Every time I see her
She is more and more distant
She is crazy
Like before
But in a way that is different
How you act with your new friends
Conflicts with some of my morals
You can't seem to think
About academics
Or family
Only your social circle
I am worried
Someone is going to take advantage of your desperateness
To be Seen
And you are going to get hurt
Honestly the only thing that keeps me
From hiding in bushes outside of the houses
You go to parties in
With a chainsaw
Ready to rush to your rescue
Is that you don't tell me when they are
And also I don't currently have a chainsaw in my possession
I am worried
That I am going to lose you

I have a disease.
It's called Ugly.
It isn't fatal though.
What a shame. :(

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