Tick tick tick.
I'm wrapped in the hands of time;
but the only hand that I want to feel,
are yours gently wrapped in mine.

Daddy's kisses, Hershey's kisses,
on the counter taking space.
Counting down to sweeter kisses,
wherever your lips are placed.

Giant bed, sleepless nights,
shrill louder than alarms;
that in a few short weeks,
I'll fall asleep in your arms.

It's strange that you've never set foot in this house;
but I'm surrounded by the ghost of you.
The road maps on my skin are void of your fingertips;
I'm a haunted house too.

Soon the priest will begin the journey,
and the spirits will cease to roam.
The ghost of you will be put to rest,
when you finally come back home.

Best friends for life is a big promise
that we had no business making
when we were too young
to know anything about life.

You were there after the bad things happened.
Like a beacon of friendship that took me away from my brain;
Until the next bad thing happened on uncomfortable sheets on the third Sunday of October.
Then the bad things after that,
which made me unhinge my scalp and pull out my memories in an assembly line of the bad things.
And the tears that ran down my cheeks,
turned to blood running down my wrists,
and you let me cry.
Best friends for life.

I hopped in my car, starting my journey towards my new life,
over a thousand miles away,
to silence the screams of my old life;
But I never expected the silence after the voicemail beep of another unanswered phone call.

You said that you would always have my back,
but how can you see mine when you turned yours?
You have a new best friend now.
You paint your face to match hers,
and wait for her to make up your mind.
Someone walks toward me to hug me,
Oh! Best friend, I didn't recognize you.
You say that you're happy.
I don't point out how different everything is, and I probably wouldn't even if I could squeeze a word into our conversations.

I've silenced my index finger and you show me how yours works just fine,
As you point out how much I've changed,
How rude I am for adding to a joke that new best friend made about you,
But new best friend is never wrong,
No, Brooklyn, you're wrong.
Then you decide that we should stay apart for a while.

Three weeks later, you show up for twenty minutes to catch up;
but catching up to you means catching me up on your life.
Laying out more problems that an algebra class;
and I remember when we finished each other's sentences.
On cue, I start a sentence and you finish it with, "I think I'm going to go, I'm tired. We should do this again."
You were out the door before I could say goodbye.

I don't want to say goodbye,
I want to shake you until your new face falls off.
I want my best friend back.
I don't want to add her to my assembly line of bad things.

Please stop touching me.
When you do, I can feel my skin turn to dust. Like ancient ruins, like the ash being flicked off the end of a cigarette, like anything less than a human being.
Please stop touching me.
I'm as fragile as glass, and my hands are too small to pick up all of the pieces that break from my body when you grab me by the arm.
Please stop touching me.
Your arms around my neck sound like people screaming, "Witch!" and your arm isn't an arm, it's a noose, and I don't know if I want you to hold on, or if I want the floor pulled from beneath me.
Please stop touching me.
I'm not someone that you can rent and return, I'm not yours, and you wouldn't want me to be; because wherever you touch is scarred flesh from the fire hands of the people that made me afraid of being touched.
Please stop touching me.

You don't know my name,
Or how I like my tea;
You've just seen my face,
Now you think you understand me.

I catch you staring through blurred vision
at my body from across the bar.
I remember you from last time,
when you followed me to the car.

At least, I think that was you;
but how could I know?
When you all have different faces,
and all ignore my "no".

No, I will not go home with you.
No, I will not kiss you goodnight.
No, I will not give you my number.
No, I won't give you a sight.

I will not let you hold my hips,
or let you grab my waist.
You say that my lips look delicious,
but you cannot have a taste.

I am so much more than the way I look;
but my personality, to you, is a waste.
I guess that I should just get used to
being nothing more than a pretty face.

***** transitive verb
: to force (someone) to have *** with you by using violence or the threat of violence

It sounds like just a word to me.
But it's so much more than it's meaning.

To me it's red eyes and the smell of ****.

Like when I was no older than four
And heard the creak, as my step father opened the door,
And held me down as I screamed
But used his force as he slapped me.

And his eyes were red, as he smelled of ****.

I cried as I experienced hell,
And when he finished, he told me not to tell.

It changed my life.
It made me feel *worthless

So when I was older, and I thought I found the one
That was when the problems re-begun.

I wanted him to love me, and I felt like it was slipping away,
And I felt like having *** was the only was to make him stay.
I was half right

Then he left.

****

It sounds like just a word to me.
But it's so much more than it's meaning.

I got a call from my boss one day,
And he asked me to come over,
But when I got there, I smelt the ****
And it made me shudder.

I smiled, and said,
"You wanted to see me?"
He said, "I heard you were selling something."
And he told me that I looked pretty.

I explained the fundraiser,
But then told him that I should leave,
I was uncomfortable
With my surroundings

He pulled me towards him, and sat on his bed,
And kissed me.
When I tried to stop him, he said,
"You know that he's probably doing the same things with her."
And he was probably right.

Stunned and hurt,
I just sat and stare,
And he kissed me again,
And touched me there

"Please, stop" I said,
"I have to go."
He ripped off my clothes,
As I kept saying, "No"

He pushed inside my as hard as he could,
And I screamed as my body released crimson blood

And he slapped me.

I knew what was happening,
I knew it all too well,
And just like with my step dad,
I cried as I experienced hell.
And he told me not to tell.

RED
Like my stinging cheek, and body.
Like the numbers on the clock.
Like the freshly washed sheets were turning.
Like his eyes.

When he was done, It was 7:35.
I walked to the bathroom, and wiped my burning eyes.

"Stop crying" I whispered to myself,
And I grabbed my pants off the shelf
And put them back on,
Like I've done for so long.

As I walked out, and tried to leave,
He pulled me toward him and kissed me,
I flinched, and I couldn't look at him too,
Then he whispered in my ear, "You're good at what you do."

I ran out of the house and walked for a while,
I walked
      And I walked
              And I walked for miles.

It's been almost a year now,
Since that day,
When he took me back,
To when it was taken away.

****
It sounds like just a word to me.
But it's so much more than it's meaning.

To me it's red eyes and the smell of ****.

We have this life to live
Every moment counts
But I’m barely living
When you aren’t around

They might need you,
But I need you too
Far much more
Than the red, white and blue.

Land of the free
Because of the brave
Still, my love.
I wish you'd have stayed.

I'm staring at walls and hiding away.
Breathing to fast for a normal day
Yet at the same time I can't breathe
As I stare at the test in front of me.

Life can take you in unplanned ways,
And leave you hanging with only a few days.
And here I ask you, who am I?
To choose between death and life?

I'm seventeen, I'm too young to make this choice,
To silence another soul and bury down their voice.
But as the seconds tick on by
And as I feel my eyes dry

I think of how hard it would be
If there was something growing inside of me.
That "Just one time" was probably enough.
And that even protection isn't so tough.

No matter how far I reach
Your tiny hands are too far from me,
And I want to hold you in my arms
And protect you from all world harms.

I want to wipe away your little sorrows
And hold you for every tomorrow
And lift you up above my head so high,
That you could take flight in the sky.

And when I look into your eyes,
The color of midsummer skies,
I'll be looking into his too.
Because love gave his eyes to you.

And our little family would fight along
And we'd have to find a way to be strong.
School would be a dying dream.
More jobs would magnetize me.

And I love you, I love you, I really do.
But it's much too soon for me to have you.
And there's still a minute until the end of the test.
And I can't find where I lost my breath.

Baby, be patient, you'll be here one day.
But if I want what's best for you, I can't let you stay.
And I'm sorry for ever doing wrong,
But my love for you is much too strong.

I'm staring at walls and hiding away.
Breathing to fast for a normal day
Yet at the same time I can't breathe
As the test says "No - " in front of me.