Endless whispers make way, layered beneath star-lit skies,
The sounds formed in blissful flirtations, as tiny secrets composed of love…
Like the apex of an overture, encompassed by a standing applause –
An ode to the dedication of a honed craft, melded in artistic perfection,
We are but fireflies dancing in the darkened fields of life…
Illuminating sparks of matter, stretching our wings t’wards the heavens,
Each flutter of our ascension striking a beautiful chord,
A precise note of enchanted color, displayed ‘cross grass covered earth –
It is in this place we understand our magnificence,
Molded by those colors and sounds of feelings…
It is in those moments we found our immortality,
Created by the hearts of hopeless romantics and starving artists –
Defined by the words found beyond omission…
As if casted in series, structured in sentences of diaries and journals,
We are now infinite, our sculpted myth and legend etched in timelessness,
Our love forever told of its immaculate beauty –
We are…

a bright vortex of colors
your eyes are like a kaleidoscope
that can be seen from outer space
a breathtaking view of the beyond

they invite me into your world
the lenses of your glasses do nothing to discourage me from coming in
it may be rude to stare, but it's even worse to do nothing
to pretend as if they do not inspire the wildest of reactions from deep within me

I may be lost inside them, but I don't mind not going home just yet

I lost my mind the other day.
I found it hiding
in the corner of my closet.
I tried to pick it up
it told me
“No more
I’ve been picking up after you for far too long. Give me a break.
I need to empty out the unfinished sentences
and broken scenarios you’ve left graffitied on my inside.”
“I’ll be back when I’ve healed”

It returned yesterday
and told me
"You worry me into a panic
I can't leave every time
you fall asleep
to the sound of your heart
pounding so loud you can hear
nothing else.
People are beautiful
and you know this
because you are one.
You have every reason to
love this world
You have every chance to explore it.
Instead you choose to stay at home
and watch a new movie
Because its much easier to watch excitement
than it is to experience it.
How selfish of you.
You were given this chance
to live
and instead you simply choose
to exist.
Do not sell yourself short.
Do not be afraid of New.
Do not harbor Old.
Release what you know
and replace it with
more.
Give life its chance to prove
that it isn't as scary
as you think
it is.
I won't leave you again
but don't give me
a reason to."

My car is filled to the brim
An iced coffee in my cup holder
And one of Smashmouth’s two well-known songs blares through my radio speakers
As I pass rolling hills, barbed wire fences, and corn stalks taller than my 1998 Ford Explorer
Everything tastes familiar
The flavor of my favorite drink
A nostalgic song from my childhood
And the pathway home

Set before me is the most gorgeous scenery anyone could ask for
The road that takes me to the place I most want to be
Three grain elevators sparkle with all the allure of the emerald city
Beckoning me forward
Taking my heart back to the place I can always return to
Trees wave their branches covered in elaborate displays of amber and green
As if they know I have returned
The boy who used to climb their thick trunks
With a posse of dirt-clad children from the neighborhood
This place is painted with beautiful memories
And nowhere else can be so inviting
I am home.

oh
well what if i said
i just wanna play with your hair all day?
oh
im just saying that?

well what if i said
your laugh gives me life
im lying?

well what if i said
your freckles are like stars in a constellation
and i just want to connect them
im just being nice?

well what if i said
i love you?

looks like you dont have an answer
for that one

"you're the tech guy"
but what if I don't wanna be?
what if I want to transcend my role
be the nice one
or
the caring one
or
the one with too much on his mind to say

what if I want to define myself
instead of letting others make that decision for me?

what if I feel completely alienated from this world?
as if I don't follow the same code everyone else does
I don't go through the same experiences as you do
I lack them
tech guys fix computers and ****
I don't do that
actually, I have no idea what i do or what my purpose is
and somehow I doubt ill ever know

Last Friday I did a very good job
of drinking away
my anxiety.
The sad part was
the only person
there to see it
was my mom.

It took me awhile,
but  five beers
and two
hard ciders later
I was free.

I’m almost 19
and I’ve already
started solving
my problems
with vices.

I had my *** phase.
It treated me no better
than any cigarette I bummed.
In the end
it was all just smoke.

Alcohol made me into something
I believed to be better.
I smile because I mean it.
I don’t shy away
From people.
But I’ve come to realize
that I’m worth more
than two shots of *****
and bottle of Mike’s Hard

It’s so easy to forget
what’s circling
in my brain.

I forgot about
school starting
in 2 weeks.

I forgot about my friends
and why
I’ve been feeling
that there’s a lack there of.

It is no ones fault
but my own.
I have no pity
for myself.

I’ve refused to believe
that taking a pill
would vacuum
away the half finished
poems and the
torn up ideas I have
in my mind.

It’s become very
difficult
to explain
myself.
Most times I wish
I didn’t have too.

I’ve never been approachable.
I look mean
But I promise
I’ve always tried to give
everything.
I always thought
that if I said yes
then so would others.

I woke up that Saturday
at  five a.m.
Realizing
that the world kept moving
when mine slowed down.
School will still come
and so will tomorrow.

Give me a pack of cigarettes
Because it’s much easier
to wash that smell from my mouth
than it is to get
these thoughts out.

When I was little.
When I was little.
WHEN I was little.
When did that "I am" become a "When I".
I've lived my whole life,
I've never stopped,
I went straight from one to two,
two to three,
three to four,
no pause,
no breaks,
straight on through to the tender age of 19.
I went from
barbie dolls to polly pockets,
bratz dolls to bicycles,
ipods to computers,
computers to cars,
cars to cigarettes,
cigarettes to alcohol.
When did it happen?
When did the little girl become,
a teenager,
a teenager struggling with herself,
with her life,
trying to decide how she wants to spend the rest of it.
I want to go back to first grade,
sitting up in my bunk bed crying because I couldn't read yet,
to classroom parties,
recess,
staying up late the night before 5th grade practicing my long division because I was afraid of my new teacher.
I don't stay up late worrying about my long division anymore.
I stay up late worrying about the state our world is in.
Scared to death that I'm going to give in to society.
I can't bear the thought that the little girl I see in all of my old pictures,
with all the hope in her eyes,
grows into a tired adult,
faking a smile because she forgot how not to.
Going through the same routine.
If I could go back to a younger me,
I would give her ear plugs.
So she wouldn't be able to hear the boy in her class tell everyone Santa Clause isn't real.
So she could block out the insults thrown her way because being 90 pounds in 4th grade was WAY to fat.
So she could muffle out the reality,
and live in her own world for awhile.
I'm living this life not entirely proud of who I am,
or the choices I make,
but I want to make sure of one thing.
If I ever run into my younger self one day in another reality,
I want to make sure I've made her proud.
Because being a kid is hard,
but so is being an adult.
Life is difficult,
and the truth is harsh.
Because when one turns into two,
two turns into 19,
19 turns into 45,
45 turns into 70,
and 70 turns into a headstone.
And at that point,
we've got to hope we did it right.

I like to pretend I don’t have emotions
In my mind I’m better then those weak-kneed, angsty teenage girls who write about true love in their journals but have never worked up the nerve to actually talk to a boy
I enjoy my feeling of superiority
But no human is without their flaws
My flaw happens to be you
When you’re near I seek out the nearest mirror and check my reflection
Fix my hair
Straighten my shirt
I clear my throat as I try to slow down my pulse
I tell myself to breathe, slowly; inhale, then exhale.
And when our encounter is over
And we’ve gotten no closer
To the place I long to be -in your beautiful freaking arms
I walk away and daydream of our lives together
Next thing you know I’ll be scribbling your name all over my notebook.
You turn me into a cliché I never thought I’d be
******* you and your beauty

…and your charming personality

…and your perfect smile

…and your witty remarks

Just ******* you.

I knelt beside my bed last night
looked at the crucifix above it
and pretended it was God.
Truth be told it’s a ceramic cross
that I was taught to believe in.
Stare at it, confess your sins, absolution is yours.
And that’s what prayer is.

I spent 12 years in Catholic schools.

School taught me little about God,
Other than how to recite the Our Father
And why I should remain a ****** til marriage.
As well as how lucky I was
To have my parents pay for my schooling
Just so I could say prayers I didn’t understand out loud.
My parents worked hard
For my sister and I to wear uniforms
and say the rosary 5 times more a year than we would have.
I wasn’t taught faith
Or how to seek kindness.
I was told to accept Catholicism
Or risk damnation.

My family went to church every Sunday.
We said grace before our meals,
And we thanked God for food we bought ourselves.

This sounds atheistic.
But it isn’t.
Because I believe in God.
However I do not believe in ignorance.
I do not believe in hate.
I do not believe in discrimination.
Three things the Catholic Church practices.

I’ve never believed that saying  “****”
Was a one way ticket to hell.
I never believed that missing mass
Would be more suffering I’d endure in purgatory.

I believe in a God
That accepts us
For everything that we are.
A God that will not mind if
We didn’t spend an extra hour
Kneeling in a pew
Listening to another human
Preach to us HIS interpretation
Of a book
None of us will ever
Fully
Understand.

I don’t believe in a tall man
With a long beard.
I believe in a young girl with brown eyes.
I believe in an oak tree that’s branches have
Seen more than I ever will.
I believe in everything.
Because God is everything.

I’ll kneel by my bed tonight
And look at my ceiling.
Because my ceiling is as good as any crucifix.
I’ll say my prayer
For everyone
Who recites their Bible
Fears God
And squeezes their rosary tight
In hopes that it will give them something
They’ve always been lacking.
Faith.