Everything about you was melting sticky sweet.

May stands alone in itself
Existing to spit in time’s face,
Exposing its lies of even passage,
Foreshadowing the season to come,
As linear progression is lost in self-realization

The first a whirlwind of night
With prom dresses discarded,
Replaced by a third of the material,
In the passenger seat of my best friend’s car,
For nights of blacklight and nostalgia

The rest of the month was spent in Colorado Daylight
Buying trinkets of my forgotten family roots,
Letting a man stain my hand,
As we traded stories about art and light,
sipping spiced drinks I still miss

June was nonexistent
As it is just filled with violet blurs
Of “congradulationsIbetyourmomishappy”s
As winter feelings
Crept into summer stability

In July the pastel smeared into sickening saturation
As fears were fostered under the sparkle of fireworks
Tears spilled in broad daylight
Scabs were destroyed by loud voices and darting eyes
And regrown in passenger seats, forcing longheld confessions

By August little was left but the natural light
Hidden Canadian coves were experienced with an empty mind
Glittering plots climaxed in quiet nights
Sunsets illuminated a reset button
Letting go of this endless summer afternoon

I have these little vases I keep trying to mount on my wall.
Most I've convinced to stay, but one remains stubborn. '
Maybe it's the humidity,
or maybe it's a sign to lay off on the decorating for now.

Maybe it inspired me, or maybe pushed me to my limits,
as I push my own stubborn heels in,
because for the first time this year, I see a chance to get what I want,
and I owe it to myself.

But now my friends think I hate them,
or maybe they hate me
I think on the third weekend of plans falling through.

Maybe we aren't supposed to be here,
I wonder fearfully,
because I know that even if I'm not supposed to be,
I simply must.

So I will continue to restick my lights
every night to lite my home
In search of some stability.

Sweaty palms
Long distance calls
Looming nervous presence

Bouncing mania
Preemptive dreams
Persuasion

Inadequacy
Salty tounges
Squealing

Subtle disproval
Financial discorse
Flamboyant pandering

Off-balance pulls
Compromised callings
Charismatic turmoil

Past the symphonic build,
My eyes are glazed back to dark evenings,
Texting I love you in the dark,
Looking towards the future,
End of an era.

And as they built today,
As I pass the crest of the hill,
And am met with the speckled cotton candy sky
I bite down on the ginger in my mouth,
Letting the sticky warm burn,
spread across my tongue and down my spine,
As I reflect on the worst feelings I felt,
And the best year of my life.

And as the swell dies down,
I feel a drop in my heart,
And I recognize the end of an era.
Goodbye and goodnight.

Who would have thought
That as my childhood came to a close,
My only concerns,
Would be subtle jealousy for a steady observer,
And planning for a hypothetical conversation four years down the road.

The rest is just sunlight melting my honey hair.

Somewhere along the line, I decided
that losing hours of rest was better
then lying in silence and thinking of you.
So I lie here drifting in and out of consciousness,
as spinning images confuse my tired eye,
and gunshots are punctuated by familiar laughter.

Yet even in the pauses,
your essence comes creeping in.

“Velocity is squared in centrifugal force”
You yelled, as you grabbed my knee,
Your goofy face begging me to laugh.

If you were mine,
I’d grab your hand,
Hold your head,
Look into your eyes,
And ask you to breath.

If you were mine,
I’d tell you how you are ok,
And remind you that it’s healthy to heal.
I’d beg you to sit and rest.

But you chose to shut me out,
so now I watch as you spiral into oblivion,
As everyone laughs and cheers in glee,
I hear your scream rise above the rest.
I cringe at your violent moments,
And silently beg fans to stop calling your mania joy.

And as the crowd flocks around you,
I see the energy in your brain,
charge the wild in your eyes,
And I desperately pray that you are not as alone
as you were when you were mine.

I wish I had the ability
To speak words that haunt you
In the way that yours
hang in the front of my mind.

I spilled neon orange paint
all over my favorite black jeans
while mixing your dumb color.
(because I'm dramatic like that)

I couldn't help but think,
there's an analogy somewhere in there,
and in how preoccupied I am getting it out before it sets,
even though I  know the damage is already done.


But instead of wasting my time on understanding it,
I just covered it with black and called it a day.
Knowing I'm still going to paint in these pants again.

I once said your voice was ramen and computer keys,
and I've decided that it's fitting,
as it punctuates in your rushed excitement,
and drips with words of inspiration.

And tonight, as I spill out my heart to you
over the binary code as my eyes slowly wilt,
I long for the day when we can do it in whispers across a dark room.

Or back in the bright night,
with the energy of sharing secret writings still flowing in our veins,
Or shared excitement over the one,
whose voice was rich like black coffee,
Or the day we shared chicken nuggets and a headline,
and I decided that I liked you.

Thank you for your words,
dragonfly girl,
for they bring my heart to peace,
and I feel known.

Silent night
snow falling gently
Whispering familiar screams
quietly to not give away how much I really do care,
as I think of what tonight was supposed to be

Bright afternoons
Planned Poses
Quiet diners
Fluorescent lights
Slow partings
Intimate aspirations.

But they are figments of my imagination,
Sculpted from the few moments we had,
based on long term ideas.

And as I study the stars,
I pray that you find your peace,
And wonder if you will do the same.

Reeling through the midnight streets,
Studying you,
As you ponder me,
One hand round my waist the other on my spine,
as I cradle your head and you cradle me,
and I can feel your smile as I catch your eyes.

I know you feel my heart racing.

Voices are always
much more vivid
after a period of absence from them in my ear.

Nevertheless,
your burnt orange nature was so shocking,
that it was almost painful

And as I grappled with
how I had lived next to it for so long,
I realized that all the shades were wrong,

For when it was just us,
you'd stoop down to my level,
as your rough tones would break into melting amber.

But today was not the case,
as the energy coursing through your throat,
was a bright, blinding tangerine

My name in your mouth seared me,
my ears burned as I listened to you sing,
The pulsating light left me squinting in surprise

Suddenly I've found the motivation to remove myself from you.
For you no longer are the answer to the relaxation I seek,
As I accept that your makeup no longer consists of my cool tones.

Everything was always
In reverse with you
as you took all reason
and threw it away

I regret my ignorance every day.

But despite it all
here I am
listening to what memories of your presance tells me rather than my intuition
And even as I write this
Your hypnotic charm blurs my regret from miles away

And suddenly who I am is not as important as you.

I'm well acquainted with the danger of repressing feelings,
So I've learned how to process by spilling my colors onto a page.

However I am desperate to just move on,
and last time I wrote like this everything came to fruition.

Yet my fingers are itching and I can't kick whispers out of my head.

Lately
I've had so many more
hours in my day
but they are worthless.
They are just a reminder
of how quiet I am
when left alone in my world.

She's high fashion on a budget,
capturing the world from her own angles.
Watercolor stains on anything she touches,
but vibrancy is not for her.

Her voice is the texture of heavy-duty paper,
and something about her seems littered in floral,
But she is too industrial for that to make sense,
as the city breaths her in and out.

I'm tired of
dewy rosie golden me
for she was pretty
but she is not the same
as when those shades were the change she needed

As I look
towards my future
I see all of the order
expectations
assumed color
and I know I will not be with my own.

I hope that I can find a place,
before it eats me alive.