I belong in these pages
Of the books on my shelf.
I try to find the answers in the words printed on the paper.
I try to prepare myself.

I belong behind the words that I write,
The stories and characters they transform into.
I search for the answers through art.

I belong at family dinners.
With my mom, my brother and dog.
Together as one.

They are my compass.
Guiding me on.

Now,
I travel across the waters alone.

I try to navigate through the fog.

My parents warnings and lessons sing as lullabies,
That play softly in the whistling wind.

They aren't my map,
They can't guide me anymore.

I have this boat around me.
But the choppy waves never stop.
They batter the hull.
As salty sea crashes over.
I take in gulps of ocean as I try

To navigate my way back to shore.

Please don't ask me if I'm from Tennessee.
I don't want to hear its because I'm the only ten you see.

But if like my friend, and you were creative with them.
Maybe they would work.
"If you were a ski trail you would be a green circle because you're easy."
Or
"I'm wasted. But this ****** in my pocket doesn't have to be. "

Okay so probably not, but maybe she would laugh and maybe if he complemented her after,
she would shed layers and they could crawl under sheets together.

But no girl has so Travis I'm sorry to say,
Pick up lines don't work, that's why you're still a ******.

I'm not your little girl.
I will not tremble as you raise your voice.
I can see rage as it
runs through your veins.
They show in your neck as
you scream in my ear,
that I need to respect you
because you are my father.

I feel no fear,
I know who you are.

You take providing for your family as control.
Am I  supposed to respect you because you own my soul?
You are the teacher of disappointment.
To get respect you must earn it.

So *******, No.
I'm not going to change my attitude.

How is it possible,

to be afraid of a monster when there is nothing there?


But it is real,

It is the pain that I feel and the uncertainty for a future near.

They dig their ***** claws into my flesh when I'm doing my best.

Maybe it helps to fall from the pedestal of life and not become hubris.

But now I'm stressed.



You tell me not to worry, that my fears are nothing when I'm with you.

You can't save me, and I can't save you.

But some how your fragile white lies are comfort to hear.

They drown out the gnawing of their claws in my ears.

I'm so scared to lose you but I can see the end coming.

We both have separate paths to follow when the summer sun sets.

But right now, you can have me, at least for a few more minuets.