In the seat with the split window,
black cold metal blocked the road ahead,
the sliver of window from the seat infront of me
clouded and beaded with cold rain.
I'm only aware of what's passing me now --
what I've already passed.
None of it feels real, though.
The trees and roadside ditches seem to jump
like an old film
like thousands of pictures flashing in sequence.
The rain streaks making the scene flow not quite right.
A few seats behind me painted nails trace an empty smile
on the condensation.
Thousamds of raindrops rolled behind
two blank eyes and one hollow smile.
Yet,
the image never beaded and melted away,
even as she started to cry.
I watched the wind pet small waves
onto window puddles,
and flinched as pothole vibrations cut it apart.
As we lerch forward --
perhaps for a red light --
the puddle would run to an unseen place,
a place I could not see yet.

I walked out into the woods,
on a clear Autumn morning,
and used Daddy's hunting knife
to cut you out.

As if I were a surgeon,
cutting away with purpose,
no blood was lost as you fell
away from me.

You dropp'd to the forest floors,
drifting away with the wind,
I thought you were gone for good
that I was free.

You're anything but benign,
a creature from the dark woods,
following me as a wolf
out for the ****.

Helpless to spend the Winter,
cold and alone and empty,
waiting for your sure return
back to my heart.

Spring comes as you slither near,
hidden and slowly warming,
crawling and clawing upon
my cold body.

You've made your home by Summer,
nested in my hollow heart,
soaking in passionate love
that will not last.

I walked out into the woods,
on a clear Autumn morning,
and used Daddy's hunting knife
to cut you out.

Walk with me, if you please,
in the graveyard that was once
our Eden.
Every flower seems to perk at your touch,
our rose bursting into crimson bloom.
It was easy letting you walk from Eden,
my heart was ready,
the Goodbyes were prepared --
It was the realization at startled me:
this blossom is nothing more than a ****
through the eyes of the next person I invite.
Never again will I plant another flower like that,
not exactly,
not with your touch and your embrace.
No one will ever see the beauty that we see,
forever will the rose be something only you and I will share.
More and more flowers will be planted,
more and more will shrivel into barren hips,
and maybe one day I'll find someone to stop the infestation.
Until then, I cherish the beautiful roses,
the ones planted in laughter and love,
not the ones thrown to the earth with rage and sorrow.
You will not be forgotten,
the rose will not allow it.
I know you will not want to walk with me,
but know that the flowers will remain
just as your good memory hovers above the roses.

If you don't want me to go,
don't push me away.
If you don't want me to stay,
don't pull me closer.
If you don't want to remember,
don't ask me to explain.
Tell me to leave
only after you've held me close.
Tell me you hate me
only after you've stolen a kiss.
Tell me you're sorry
only after you've left bruises.

Tell me you love me
and I'll stay.

I am a caged bird.
                                                           ­            Sing and sing all day,
                                                            ­       smile and smile all eve.
                                                            ­   If one person in particular --
                                                           you know who you are --
                                                       no longer deserves my attention
                                                    I will choose not to perform to you,
                                                but all I can do is turn my back.
                                            These walls constructed of steeled bars,
                                        do not protect me.
                                    They leave me vulnerable to your ******* --
                                 eyes that I can never truly escape.
                             Stretch my wings and convince myself I'm flying,
                         but I'll only ever be caught in your web --
                      your cage.
                   This battle of wits and accusations has to end.
               Why can't you see that I yearn for flight?
           You're just as caught as me, Cage Keeper,
        it's time to let me go --
    come to terms with the fact:
I am gone.

I walked a long mile
with a Girl long forgotten,
she was loud and personable,
bright red ringlets sitting on the shoulders
of white and pink ruffles
with dark eyes that never cried
yet she tells me
"I'm scared of the dark,"
I could not embrace her,
could not discourage her fears.
instead I looked into those dark eyes --
full of innocence,
brimming with ignorance,
and told her
"I dreamed for your eyes,
and I wished that you might never have mine."

You must think you're funny
parading around with that mask on.
People must think you're smart
convincing them of your deep thoughts.
Epimetheus, dear, you were never one
for prethoughts.
Now look at what you've done.
My love for you is burning.
You dangled it above the flames,
threatening it,
questioning its validity.
But I pushed it in --
held that dilapidated beat in the bluest flame
and listened to you scream as it died.
You have nothing over me now --
I am free.

The clouds above us weep
at the sight of your departing footprints,
but don't fear, love, for
from these relentless tears,
beautiful flowers shall sprout
and the heavy goodbyes
that engraved your lonely footprints
will be replaced with
welcoming embraces
and the light laughter
of a new beginning.

There is something romantic
about
           light
                     snowfall
                                      on an early spring morning.
I just can't put my gloved finger on it...
It has something to do with
the final goodbye of Father Winter,
the last kiss
                    from
                            falling
                      flakes.
Perhaps it's the way
the birds still chase each other
despite the cold whip of the snow.
Maybe it's the way the daffodils look,
                  yellow     dresses
                         powered
                              in
                        sparking
                       diamonds,
           swaying
      slowly to
            Father's
      lulling tune.
It has something to do with the way
the waking sun
                          pours
                                    pink
                                            light
onto the dreary eyed school children

Yes, there is something romantic
about a
             light
                     snowfall
                                   on an early spring morning.
But it's heartbreaking to
crumble
                the fresh blanket,
or to watch it
             melt
                             away.
Seeing the sun
                 beating
                    heat
onto frozen grass,
until the snow
sinks or
hides in shadows.
Soon all that is left of the morning snowfall
                                                        ­                 is the crisp breeze
and the odd sense of mourning
among the spring daffodils.

Six AM and it's time for the medication,
the parade of pills and liquids to start.
One for the cyst in your shoulder,
it won't make it better --
it just dulls the pain until it tears.
Two for the muscles eroding in your knees,
you said they were feeling better --
but you just felt guilty for wasting dad's earned money.
One drop in each eye for the inflammation,
the late nights in worn contacts
have caused some disease in your eyes.

Noon and the parade continues.
One drop in each eye for the inflammation,
slipping into the bathroom during school.
Two pills for the migraines,
they've become constant now.

Six PM and the parade still marches.
One pill for the cyst in your shoulder,
hopefully the popping sound will go away,
and you can put the sling away.
Two pills for the muscles eroding in your knees,
up and down and up and down the stairs all day,
wishing for a real relief from the pain.
One drop in each eye for the inflammation,
now they begin to sting,
the steroids doing something -- just not their job.

Ten PM and the parade begins to shut down.
One drop in each eye for the inflammation,
praying tomorrow the pain will be gone --
for a natural sleep with natural dreams.
Fifteen mL of liquid sleep aid,
it battles the steroids and the insomnia,
but doesn't stop the nightmares.

Six AM comes too soon,
the parade starts again.

I've gotten quite good at swallowing large amounts of pills...

I met him at a party
The late night buzz and low lights
The blaring music and loose dancing
All shrouded in a fog of assorted drugs.
I met him at a party,
And he wrote his 10 numbers
On the back of my small hand.
I remember his smirk and
the way he said Call me.
He disappeared into the fog,
and is still awaiting a call
from that girl he met at a party.

It was late when I stumbled home,
Pepermint gum trying to hide
the harsh alcohol in my breath.
I came home and saw his number,
and for some reason,
thought it was yours.
I crawled through the haze of my house,
trying to find my room, my bed.
I snaked under the blankets,
and for some reason,
thought you were laying beside me.
I've never slept so soundly in my life.

By morning, my parents are asking questions,
but all I can see is his number on my hand.
I thought to myself
Now's my chance to start over,
to love someone new,
to forget the past.
I cried --
for joy or sadness, I'll never know.
Those tears fell onto his number,
and with a flick of my thumb,
it was gone.

Head up, stay strong, fake a smile, move on,
they always said,
No one will see a broken spirit.

They were wrong.

Your eyes saw past it all.

The way your eyes loved my soul
wasn't in vain or vanity.
They didn't see the complex masks
or the pounds of makeup --
Your eyes saw me in all my simplicity.
You dove into the darkness of my eyes
and found this small broken light --
some strange thing you called a *soul.
Your eyes loved that shattered light --
they held it with kind words and soothing embraces.

I felt like The Golden Girl turned inside out:
a face comprised of dullness and imperfection,
a soul of great beauty and grace.
With words, smiles, and touch,
you convinced me to stay in my skin,
but for once in my insipid life,
my soul felt alive and bright.
No longer would I battle the darkness,
no longer would I be afraid of the monsters inside.
Your eyes struck the match that ignited my soul again.

Someone was wearing your cologne today
So many memories in one breath --
I exhale and find myself gasping for you again,
Breath after shallow breath until I am hollow with you.
It was light enough for the wind to carry it
but it made me feel like Atlas under the Earth.

It was nothing but empty hopes
wishes left ungranted.
As night falls,
and the darkness comes for me,
I find myself gasping for you

Clutching crumpled Tootsie Pop wrappers
And cradling torn Four Leaf Clovers.
Wishing you are far away
The more distance I can place between us,
The safer you are.

Wishing I was in your arms
Craving your lullaby, your steady heart beat,
For selfish reasons.
Take my Tootsie Pop wrappers and Four Leaf Clovers.

I am the very last person who deserves a wish.
Take them and know I never wanted to hurt you.
Wish for a thread and needle

Or a plane ticket to Neverland
Just please,

Don't wish for me.

How do you tell a heart to stop aching?
Command a warrior never to fight again?
A singer to never so much as hum another note?

Two long years, and all I've done is fight
sword raised high some days,
and others--
it's a miracle I'm standing.

How do you tell a bird to stop flying?
Persuade a flower never to bloom again?
A leaf never to fall?

Too many long days, and all I've done is sleep
dreaming of a world with escape,
and others--
a nightmare that leaves me weeping.

How do you tell the sun not to rise?
Punish a star for shining too bright?
Stop the moon from changing shapes?

Too many short seconds, and you're slipping away,
through my fingers like sands,
and others--
sitting on my shoulder with everything else.

Looking at the crack under my door and seeing the light go out.
At that moment, I know you are all asleep and dreaming,
and I can’t even close my eyes.
I can't enjoy the most simple of silences
because my body and mind won't let me.
Fill me with pills and formulas,
sing me lullabies and read me stories,
tuck me in and kiss my forehead...
it doesn't change a thing.
I'm still watching the light under my door go black and
the house fall silent, crying soft tears into a useless pillow,
fearing I'll never dream again.
Go home and get some rest they say...
ha, if only their words made it so.
Make me Ella and command me to sleep... please.
All I want... is a dream.
A series of images that make no sense,
a nightmare that makes me wake up screaming,
because you know what that means?
I was sleeping... I was dreaming!

That small sliver of light under my door keeps me sane,
without it I am alone
a room of light in this world of darkness,
and I want nothing more than to join it.
When the sun goes down, the clock slows its march.
The seconds feel like minutes
The minutes feel like hours
The hours... feel like they never come.
But when the sun finally does rise, it is a sad and happy moment.
It's an escape from the darkness but
it's another battle to fight.

This black ribbon that laces my door
fills me with dread and sounds the gun to make
the seconds feel like minutes
the minutes feel like hours
and the hours never come.

we see eachother in our reflections
but we're just looking at broken mirrors
thinking we're a perfect match.

we're two fools dancing around eachother like
we own the grandest castle
thinking that nothing can touch us.

we flash images at eachother like
broken television boxes
thinking we know eachother's story.

we burn holes in eachother like
cigarettes on old parchment
thinking that we're helping.

we sit and cry under the covers
like two children with broken toys
hoping we still love eathother.

we dream of eachother like
the living mourning over the dead
thinking that the other is gone.

we're connected to eachother like
two sewn pieces of cloth
thinking we're a million miles apart.

we want to forget eachother like
a bad dream
thinking we were nothing but evil.

we make eachother bleed like
fresh purple hearted war veterans
thinking that we can rip the thread of the past.

we're distant to each other like
two strangers on a crowded street
hoping the scars don't show.

12:00 to 12:01 may just be a fleeting moment,
but it is the longest moment of my life.
For 60 seconds, I want nothing more than
to be with you again.
At the same time, I know by 12:02,
I won't feel this way.
I can hear the clock tower ringing out:

1 - Seeing you again.
2 - How are you doing?
3 - Thinking about how good you look.
4 - "Why did I let you go?"
5 - Feeling your touch in my head.
6 - Are you happy?
7 - Imagining your hands on my waist.
8 - "Why did I let you go?"
9 - Wanting to be able to fall asleep with you again.
10 - Do you think about me?
11 - The pain of never speaking to you again.
12 - "Why did I let you go?"

I don't know why my heart tortures me so.
Why it craves for the one thing my mind rejects.
Is this what it feels like to fall "head over heels?"
Is love supposed to be thoughtless?

I fear I will never truly love
Never truly let someone in for fear they will hurt me.
I've grown up with people telling me
You need to break up before you end up broken
I say that I don't love you,
but perhaps it's the fear talking?
Or maybe it's just the 60 seconds?

It's about that time again
to lock up all the
Love
Anger
and Greif
and just wait for them to die.
But they never truly die,
do they?
They rally in the
locked box I call a heart
becoming stronger and stronger
until I am overcome with
Love
Anger
and Grief.
They never truly die.
No.
They never cease to come back
just as the winter comes
to destroy summer.
It's about that time again,
hopefully their rally is lifeless
so that I may see another day.

I've been tapping my pen on my spiral
trying to put words to emotion --
trying to explain a sensation so serene.
I wanted to tell you, in clever woven words
that when you touch my waist, my heart stops
that I'm not ticklish, I just want you to hold me
that your cold green eyes make me feel so warm.
What I'm trying to say -- what I want to tell you is
that I'll never be able to be sad with you around --
you wouldn't let me;
that I can't think straight with you near
and that's why I practice talking in my room.
I want to be able to tell you these things
in sophisticated metaphors and similes,
but the only thing that comes to mind
is you.

I close my eyes when the stars rise
but the sweet darkness does not cradle me.
No -- it is the past that thrashes me about.
The echoing of laughter and pointed fingers
and hiding in the corner as names pierce my heart.
Stupid --
a gun shot for not knowing the right answer.
Slow --
a backstab for not reading fast enough.
Ugly --
a grenade explosion for looking different.
You want to know why I am so chary?
Why I no longer speak out?
It is because she did not stop --
even as my defense crumbled before her.

When the stars rise and I sleep,
She is there-
laughing at my failures and shouting
**"I told y'all she Stupid."

I am the snowflake that hovers
caught between two winds.
Unsure where to go -
I go up.
Higher and higher
until I am above the clouds.
And it is only then
that I fall without wind's grace
and am buried in the cold grave below.

One road splits two trees
The leaves will forever reach -
Cursed with desire

Walk beside me as
Snowflakes fall like memories
And melt the Wicked

Trapped in your green eyes
I'm so lonely yet so loved
Knowing I'll be yours

Love is a creature
That sits along side my God
And plays my ballad

I'm not the one, there's nothing you could do
Love's so strong, I didn't know what to do
My shallow heart was no match for you
I'm not the one, there's nothing you could do

And I find I'm not so strong
Your love crushed me so small
Not sure where I belong

And I am saying goodbye
I was stupid and lied
Just sat and watched you die

I'm not the one, there's nothing you could do
I'm sorry that I couldn't love you
My shallow heart was no match for you
I'm not the one, there's nothing you could do

And I am coming untied
I can't handle your tears
Or to know that you've cried

I'm not the one, there's nothing you could do
I'm sorry that I couldn't love you
My shallow heart was no match for you
I'm not the one, there's nothing you could do

I'm not the one, there's nothing you could do

Every other girl dons her heels
but me.
I come in my dancing shoes.

Every other girl holds her skirts
but me.
I'll cartwheel in my jeans, please.

Every other girl accepts his hand
but me.
I reached for his first.

Every other girl follows a step behind
but me.
I lead the parade.

Every other girl lives to become beautiful
but me.
I know beauty lives to be me.

Every other girl displays skin
but me.
I'm all pearly whites.

Every other girl chokes in a corset
but me.
I'd rather sing of freedom.

No matter tree strong
Or branch withered and shakey
Leaves must fall alone

He never knew he held my heart.
Never aware, even as he gave his away
and she gave hers to him.
It's cramped in here -
her heart beating next to mine
in the warmth of where his heart once was.
I want to leave,
to escape so her heart can flourish.
I never held his heart -
Why pretend like I did? -
He's not mine to fight for, never mine to keep.
Trying to leave quickly is like
trying to rip a snake,
whose venom fangs are plunged deep,
off your arm in one swift movement.
With tears in my eyes and a strained smile for her,
I take the snake from flesh,
but the venom chokes my heart
to a shade of blacken green.

The dullest life lived
is one lived never fully
aware of the world

It's time to fight for your freedom.

Do you see yourself,
Silhouette against the setting sun -
Reds as deep as the monster's eyes,
Draped in cold silver?
A breast plate hides the heart,
Shin guards perverse agility,
Chain-mail protects strength,
A helmet retains sanity,
A trusty steed will hurry the process,
This cloth to ease the pain of battle,
A torch to ensure you won't get lost;
A sword to vanquish the creature that controls your heart.

Silhouette, with arm raised high,
Begins to charge just as stars dot the sky.

You have all you need,
now fight
until the only thing left you have to give
is a single breath
in which the dying words
I love you
are carried far away to the next champion
to fall at this beast's hands.

The words of a Goodbye weave together to bind this chapter,
the characters disappearing – just ghosts to walk beside me.
But I’m nothing but the wicked queen with a poisoned apple –
piercing the heart of a character so sweet and so kind.

Words intended for tea sit in my stomach like poison –
excuses that seemed pure now form a mask,
the Why wraps me tight and lies me in a cushioned room.

Actions meant to heal put me to sleep on nails –
the smallest of leaves is engraved with your name,
your essence echoes in the chaos of my mind.

Trying to replace you – Longing for another –
Doesn't heal that heart that fills the sink with blood so black.
Doesn't heal the silent limp.
Doesn't stop the smile that covers a screaming heart.
Doesn't stop the heart from ripping until only a beat remains –
a hollow beat that reverberates in a hollow chasm –
a beat that no longer sounds for me, but for the very person I killed.