I listened to my stubby heels echoing light clicks and clacks

on the ***** pavement,

a sound far better than the the laughter and chatter of the previously escaped classroom.

I mozied along the empty campus, feeling warmed by the bits of fog that clung to the air

and moss trees towering from pine needles in a very still way

that if not for the fog's gentle swaying I would have assumed the world to have stopped.

I liked it that way best.

When things are still and quiet and full of posibility

but you choose not to reign in that possibility because you love the freshly chilled air,

air so fresh it makes you want to fill your lungs with it

and take a To-Go bag as well.

Sometimes I sit and look out,

silently hoping that if I sit there long enough I too,

will become quite still and fresh fog might cling to me

and someone else might admire me as part of a still world,

like a picture in a golden frame.

Tender curiosity
ignited something I never anticipated.

Your mind is a mass of knotted rope that I want to untangle with my tongue while our bodies are pressed against each other,
Yet I crave to hold you and know you in the most innocent of ways.

No, I will never be in love with you,
And dear Lord! I hope you never fall in love with me,
but I long to understand you in a way that no one ever has,
and reassure you that your trust goes unbroken.

Follow me tonight,
to the corner where lust and purity meet.

Strong and silent friend,
I have always seen such beauty in you.
Please, never forget that I am on your side.

I often wonder,
with a feeling of great tragedy
and listlessness,
of what would have happened
should I have scrounged up the money
to pursue my dream.
Overcome by woe,
I can't help but fear
how different things might be
had I flown off
where no one I know has been before,
cringing at the thought
that I might have sacrificed triumph
for comfort,
happiness
for safety,
that I let the mere matter of money
pour cement over everything I've ever wanted.

I take three showers a day
1 in the morning
to wash away the night terrors
1 after I get home
for me to cry
and shake
and let the boiling water scorch my body
to help distract from everything I'm scared of
which is a lot of things
and then when I'm calm
I'll work out all my regret
then take a shower to clean the extra off.
then I'll go to sleep
and wake sweaty and distressed
and repeat repeat repeat
and I can only be happy
because it used to be more showers
then it was 4
and now it is 3
and that means
I'm getting better.

Why does being told to take care of myself
make me cry so?
I always feel like crying,
I'm always on the brink
of letting waterfalls drip down
but I hold them back
which sets them on fire.
You would think with my daily tears
that I would run out,
dry up like my **** skin,
but they keep coming.
I am an everlasting well
of misery and heartache,
I know not what keeps
this well so plentiful,
but I wish it would dry up and crumble.

I have wasted my life
worrying
and cowering
and sleeping
and crying
feeling so scared and alone
acting so ******* fragile
but now
I have a real reason to be afraid
a fear that looms
and cackles
and quakes me with fear--


I have no doubt
that I have wasted my years,
I've had ample time to grow
but remain stunted
a child still shivering in her own bruises and blood
wondering why her family doesn't love her
why no one loves her
I haven't moved on
I haven't changed
I've never lived
more than once--
the best years of my life
the best people
are behind me
ahead is work and bills and disappointment
I ****** up
I ****** up bad
I haven't made a dent in this world
no not even a scratch
I've done nothing
been nobody
and It makes me so scared
and so sad
that I'm not sure what to do
how do I move on
how do I progress
how do I start living my life
                                         a life
                                    any life
I'm desperate to know
how to fix my wrongs
I'm desperate to believe
there's a way I can come back
from this mistake.

I’m not paranoid,
it’s just that every word spoken to me
every compliment given
with that pitched tone
that implies an untruthful pity,
sounds like a lie.

I'll leave a candle lit for you,
I'll crack a window,
if you want,
so you can find your way in,

I'll leave a candle lit for you,
to light your way,
let you know I still burn for you,

I'll leave a candle lit for you,
so long as you promise not to knock it down,
promise not to set flame to what I have built.

I'll leave a candle lit for you,
always.