This was a fishing village
when people were speaking
the king's English, dead
like the fishing industry
Now the tourists have accents

Truth be told
this was a fishing village
long before that
But we don't speak about
what those folks spoke
Something Algonquian
or another dead language

When the tide is out
I walk the shore and look for remnants
Pottery and stone tools, and such
I find a lot of plastic
and bottles, plenty of those
We've been a drinking people
for a long **** time

Once, I found a child's shoe,
sodden and filled with sand
It had a blue lace,
still tied, and a smiley face
as the tide was going out
Kind of sad, really.

r  ~ 8/28/14

I never meant to fall in love with you,
I would take it back if I could.
What I would give to feel nothing,
When I look into your sweet brown eyes.
To stop my heart from speeding up
When you walk into the room
To keep myself from staring
As you sleep, so close to me

We're just friends, I know
But I want to be so much more
I wish I could be all you need
But I can't even figure out what you want.
You're one of my best friends, and I love you
I wouldn't dare ruin that with my feelings
But, after over a year, you deserve to know
I'm just afraid of what you might say

Round of twin *******,
Circle thighs, hips, moon bottoms,
The round of my palms.

I should leave here
but there's a hole needs burying

- a mountain of memories
and a thousand miles of pain -
it still smells like you
even after it rains

At the table by the window
where you used to read -
there's a whiskey bottle
that I'm trying to put away

There - is a hole that needs burying
one of these days.

r ~ 9/1/14

Two decades in and already swamped with memories
And only the desire to make new ones.
Walking to class or coming home
People ask me what I want to do,
What do I want to do with the rest of my life?

I can feel my throat constrict and my heart skid,
Don’t they understand how much of a commitment that is?
The rest of my life.

And what if it’s not something I want to do, but something I want to be?

I’m 20 years old and don’t ever have my head in this atmosphere,
So how can I ever hope to decide the rest of my life?

I want to write with the raindrops that kiss the grass
Or sleep on the waves of the ocean
And hold the stars in my hands.
I want to climb the highest tree or the highest mountain
Just so I can jump and call it flying.
I want to read the faces of others
And put them into stories.
But mostly I want to run,
Not literally,
But running still.
I want to catch time as it passes by
And go to all the places in the pictures
Enjoying adventure upon adventure
Until the end of my days,
Surrounded by the select few that I love.

I want to be nothing short of me,
And who I am isn’t a constant that can be applied to a formula,
It’s constantly changing, growing, fighting, loving.
How dare you ask me to define what I want to be,
When it’s plain that I don’t even know who I am?

I’m 20 years old and what I want to do for the rest of my life
Is nothing sort of a mystery, an adventure,
Like a storyline leading to an epic plot twist,
But it’s wrapped in uncertainty
And the only way to find out where it’s going
Is to keep reading the book.

On the outside I see everything I've ever wanted and need
I can see the hardship and times you've wasted on others
I see through your eyes of pain as you bleed

Your eyes tell a story and your mouth the background music
Creating a symphony of destruction you slowly decrescendo
Telling me I might be better off because you tell me you're SICK

I'm bound to you like misery loving company
Tears of blood rain down your face like bad make-up
Through those eyes of pain can you see me?

Can we self-destruct together I'll never let go
You think crazy is bad then look at me
Sin with me and nobody has to know

Call me foolish shame on me
For seeing something passed your eyes of pain
Just think of how much less it would hurt
Take a chance on me with nothing to lose and everything to gain