SAME PLACE DIFFERENT SEASON
EVERYTHING I THOUGHT I LOVE TURNED TO SHADES OF GRAY
I FINALLY LOOKED TO GOD
AND ALL HE TOLD ME WAS TO SHUT THE **** UP
LEAVE ME TO WASTE CAUSE I'LL NEVER BE WHOLE
UNSATISFACTION HAS BECOME A DAILY EMOTION
NO HEART NO FAMILY
NO LOVE LOST
NO LOVE FOUND

I never wanted to.
I didn't say yes,
In fact you never even asked.
Did you think this would ever affect me?
Did you think that one day I'd be too ****** up for anyone to ever want me again
Did come to mind that one day I wouldn't be able to get out of bed.
That one day, I'd cry broken sobs into my pillow just to feel.
That ever since I've been trying to forget, trying to fill the void
The void that you ripped into my chest.
You made nothing feel good, you broke the last living part of my body
But I think now, I'm finally whole
Whole and alone.
The way you wanted it.

who would want what was once torn by another
stained by its previous owner with late night tears that seemed too hot and heavy to be real,
with pages slipping out,
one by one, ripped apart at the seam
who would want what was marked by another

you’re right,

no one would

There’s something sadistic about cigarettes,
and the way they fondled your hands
like the way you used to ****** me,
hard and rough.
There’s something sadistic about the way they ****,
slow and steady,
like your words and how you purred them into my ears.
Their smell, coats and lingers for what can seem like years.
Just like your Old Spice body and strawberry scented hair,
because 4 years later the scent sticks to my nostrils
like a child clings to their mother.
There’s just something sadistic about the way a cigarette can look so **** good on you.
A fashion accessory, licensed to ****

It's 5:25 pm and I am sitting in class,
Alone.
I am daydreaming of 11:27 pm when I'll be able to hear your low voice, singing me to sleep with your soothing words.
I am longing for yesterdays conversations and last month's visit when you cradled me in your arms.
I am craving the warmth of your skin against mine when I am shaking out in the cold.
I am listening to a lesson about god knows what,
But I am sitting here, unable to shake your firm grasp over me.
I've written a lot about you.
You're the only one I want to be thinking about
At 5:25 pm when I am sitting in class,
Alone.

Seeking love in pain
Vultures prey on emptiness,
Fear no recourse here.

i want to write something people can resonate with.
for most of my life, i spent hours in book that i cried with or laughed to.
but now it is my turn.
i want to write for the ones with swollen hearts that are full of love,
i want to write something for the kids who were never enough,
for those spend hours sitting in the shower because the water frowns out the sounds of their tears,
i want to write something for the ones who have spent nights upon nights dreaming of ways to leave this world,
i want to write something for those finding bliss in baggies and hope in a pill
for the children who have found companionship in literary hero’s,
for the ones who twist words and rhymes,
the ones who for countless hours have manipulated vowel sounds and consonant endings.
i want to write for the ones who still believe in the magic of pixie dust,
for the ones who’s pixie dust only lives in hard bound books and in aisles of forgotten book stores.
i want to write something for those who appreciate the weird and find comfort in the uncommon.
i want to write for those fighting every day for that loaf of bread in the grocery store.
i want to write something people can resonate with.
because i’ve been there
so here it is,
here’s to you.

You can't love a poet.
Even though, you feel flattered by my witty one liners,
And my charming stanzas, you can't love a poet.
I will write the good and the bad and you won't like it.
You won't like my version of the fight
And you'll like my metaphors even less.
It will drive you crazy and you will tell your friends,
"She's obsessed".
I can't help the memories that stick like glue, imprinted on my brain
And I can't stop feeling the words exchanged 3 Sunday's ago that you forgot as soon as they left your mouth.
I will relive and reread until the end of my days and inevitably you will leave,
because you can't love a poet.
You can't love someone who will publish your intimacy and print your passion.

you're an artist, truly you are.
you took my body and made it your canvas,
smoothed my wrinkles and unfolded my ends,
you painted and painted, stroke upon stroke
poured love and tender care into each flick of your wrist.
till one day, you stopped.
artists block, you called it.
no inspiration, my fault.
your smooth strokes turned to angry screams
crumpling and ripping each page of me,
stabbing my canvas, torn with headaches
so yes, you are an artist.
and now I know why I can no longer draw.

Baby girl,

When you are born in this world no one tells you that one day you will become sad, depressed, psychotic, or ****** up. They don't tell you that every night before you close your eyes that your life will flash before you and undoubtedly, you will cry. You will cry because it isn't fair that a fire burns inside of you that seems to scorch everyone else. They'll swear you have a heart of ice but it's only because they made you so ******* frigid that your heart will never beat normally again. When you are born, you are pure and untouched. Perfect, beautiful baby they say as they probe your skin with their filthy fingers and ****** themselves inside of your purity. I wish they told me how many times I'd ******* slice my skin just to feel that hot love pour out of useless body. All the while my peers laughed and played out their sick fantasies of torturing my mind. Holding me hostage to the prison of my own head. Nobody will ever tell you, baby girl, that your innocence will be stolen by men who never even deserved it in the first place. They will stalk you in your own mind till one day, you know nothing but him and the way his fists look imprinted in your tired skin. As you age, everyone you love will slowly fade and the hope you had in humanity will be lost. You won't cry this time because the emotion stored inside you will have already left for vacation and soon your mind will join. Listen. The last live bits of your anatomy will slowly wither like the last of the autumn-browned leaves. When you become the fragile bird everyone has always told you you were. You will believe them. You will finally give in to the devil on your shoulder who seems more like friend then foe. He has always been there since the beginning, the only one who ever was. My god, it will ******* hurt but now that you've seen it, baby girl-

Rebuild

-I've been there

i will share my pen only long enough for you to carve the words
“alone”
into my skin, my paper
to remind me that even your own words
can betray you

The only thing I want to remember about my adolescence,
is how good it felt when it had finally ended.

everything you told me
doesnt mean ****
when me and her
coexist

Hark, my aching heart.
'Tis the last of its kind who beats fervently
Pounding at seams too rich and too thick
To expand to the beat of my longing
Stitched tight are the lines that divide,
You from me-
Indefinitely.

Maybe we're growing up and I have yet to realize-
That peanut butter and jelly sandwiches won't be your favorite food forever and that sometimes whiskey tastes better than a lemonade.
But I will still love
As madly and as carelessly
As blowing dandelions into the summer breeze,
while exchanging kisses beneath the hot sun.

1
Dearest blue,
Time cannot replace
Time cannot heal
All I can do now is feel,
Feel the weight of your laugh
At 2 AM
Feel the brush of my cry
And how you held my hand.
Dearest blue,
I cannot forget the way you sound
But I can forget that awful way you were found.

Don't worry.
We all become famous when we die,
Because in death we find
We have something more to lose.
The humanity in which makes us gasp for air,
Suddenly is ripped from our lungs-
We realize.
We realize that one day we'll all be six feet down,
With nothing but thoughts on a page
That we were too scared to show.

I found your bracelet in my underwear drawer.
I put it there because I wanted it to be surrounded by delicate things,
And it reminded me of the way you pushed back that blue hair
With one fell swoop.
It reminded me of the gentle way you'd wrap me
In your arms and whisper in my cold ears,
"You're my best friend."
It reminded me of the way you so softly laid in that tub,
Porcelain skin shining and glassy doll eyes.
You were delicate.
Like the way those soft pin ****** lined your fleshy skin
I wanted what was left of your delicacy,
To be surrounded by beauty.
Because beauty is only found in pictures now
And delicacy is only how you live inside my chest.

I used to want to be a doctor.
I wanted to save lives and help others,
but now that I am older and have seen how humanity is,
I can't save anyone.
I can barely help myself.
Most mornings,  I struggle to get out of my unmade bed
And sometimes the only way to get dressed is to take those pills.
The ones that are supposed to make me "happy" or some ****.
What is "happy"?
Happiness is becoming a doctor and proving to your parents,
You did it. You made something of yourself.
Happiness is showering at 9 am instead of 3 pm just because you couldn't stop crying.
Happiness is being home alone without the fear of that medicine cabinet.
I am still figuring out what happiness without expectation is,
But there are still days when I want to become a doctor.
Save lives and help others.
But for now, I am saving my own life by helping myself.

i don't know how it happened
it all just sort of did
the first time you burrowed yourself inside my chest
was the last I ever hid.

Foolish fish flop farthest,
But foolish fish fry fastest.

there are flaws in our systems,
perpetual moving parts that do not yield the same results,
there are flaws in all of us
we are jumbled messes created out of flesh and blood.
from heartache to pain,
the only constant is the flaws we face
that is what comprises our identity.

You are a flower
That constantly sways in the wind
Petals scattered from shore to shore
While I,
I am a seed
Buried deep within the cold soil
Who hasn't been watered in days
I am the seed who has not yet began to grow
But instead, fades away

Why do we take the time to build such a strong foundation,
For our roof to leak at the slightest hint of rain?

Remember, my dear,
Even the sunshine will return to its darkness

Brittle teeth
Bite hard
But will always
Bend and break

Love is the greatest myth we tell each other
So that we don't worry about being miserable
Alone.

you are the difference between hell
and home

"But the Lord called to Adam, where are you?"
Adam turned his back,
There is no one holier than me and the life I am.
My Lord, you are a man with complex much too far indulged by the only people who have ever loved you.
You were a peasant, a pauper, a campesino
Left behind family for the God that left you.
To answer you Lord,
I am tending to my cows, my chickens, my pigs
Waiting for the day you wake up and see,
I was born from nature itself, not the fists of a man
Too arrogant to both love and accept all the brothers and sisters,
You left behind, trying to reinvent yourself.

Recovering hope,
Lost in footsteps traveling.
Going no where soon

How ignorant are humans to forgive a lifetime of indiscretion for 12 dollar roses and 5 dollar chocolates?
We demand adoration in the face of the world for 24 solid hours while the rest of the year we accept the misery our concept of love has brought.
Are we so blinded by sweet nothings to realize they are just nothings,
that 12 dollar roses and 5 dollar chocolates do not compare to the screaming match you had last week when you found out he lied.
If we accept so solemnly that our love will not always be happy,
are we closing ourselves off to the possibility that maybe our love doesn't have to be so empty?
Nothing is more empty than 12 dollar roses and 5 dollar chocolates because intensity and passion is not sparked from a single day.
It is grown over time, throughout the days.

How easily we let ourselves believe we can put our faith into anyone, or anything, besides ourselves,
Without fear of falling into the demise we’ve created,
Even though the possibility of opening our hearts is the one thing that can break our walls.
We create barriers to shield ourselves, and our hearts, from crumbling and turning into our mothers, and that sad lady down the street.
The truth is, we are so ******* terrified of the weakness love brings,
That we'd rather suffer alone,
Stay empty, but stay unbroken.
In the solace of our own minds we become a butterfly,
Only we don't know how to fly,
Too scared to take the first leap.
Do we risk shattering everything?
So easily we make excuses and cower instead of fall,
Because our heart is our most guarded possession of all.

We lead such a fragile existence
Between the heartache
And the joy.
We spend so much time,
Trying to walk the fine line
Between bending and breaking
The fragility of existence,
And trying to lie our way through
Our life just to make it
A little easier.
But in reality,
When all is said and done
We hurt ourselves
With all the things unsaid
And all the feelings
That are hidden.
It is the contemplation
Of our existence
That makes us question,
Is this worth it?

I've been breathing in everything I hate
Such as the smoke from fire that bellows beneath my feet,
It burns and it scalds and yet,
I do not learn my lesson.
My lungs have become airbags- deflated, charred
It hurts me to breathe but yet,
I do not learn my lesson.

I have been shown the sweet smells from the valley,
The honeysuckle kisses against my dried lips
But nectar is far more vicious than tar.
For it sticks to you like a bad memory
It will coat you in a sweet sickness,
A birth from a joyous hospital room
Honeysuckle kisses upon dry lips,
While they pump you full of the tar.

So while my lungs cannot heave anymore,
And my organs coated with depression
The nectar does nothing but upset my stomach
It causes it to wretch like a screaming baby
Lack of honeysuckle kisses fuels the fire.
I will continue to burn and scald my feet-
But I will not succumb to the iridescence
That will one day leave you sick,
And sticky sweet.

there is a deadened look in the eyes of all the men i’ve ever cared for,
is it from me?
i only want to plant life inside of you,
grow with you,
blossom with you.
but instead i am brushing off ashes
from something i once knew as home
house fires **** and the plants inside die with them

hungry, i breathe into the veins of your neck
and with my tongue, i taste your flesh.
hot breath stains your skin,
as i run my hands over your porcelain body.
hungry, i tear into you.
as you moan for more,
i know that i have won.
you will be begging
and i will be leaving.

I remember when I was 10,
And I saw my father cry.
I asked him "Daddy, what makes people sad?"
He told me people get sad because the warriors
Go to sleep
He said, people get sad because the sun will eventually fall
Even though it just began to rise.
People get sad because one day someone can wake up and say
"I don't care about you anymore."
I think I understand why people get sad,
I am sad too.
The warriors have gone to sleep,
The sun has fallen into an endless horizon,
And even my father has told me,
"I don't care about you anymore."

"What are you afraid of?" I ask,
Is the thought of me and you tangled together
Limb by limb, so repulsive to you
That you'd rather be sitting
Out in the cold, snow covered streets
Haunted by the thought,
"What could have been"
"We're wasting time," I breathe
Into your collarbone that is usually heaving with a sigh.
You shake your head and respond,
No.
Is it me that you are afraid of?
Does my intensity for love and even for you, keep you awake?
Tell me, my darling, is it me?
I know I burn houses with these hands
And break windows with my screams.
I am intense, and passionate, and ******* crazy.
But I am not scared.
I am not scared to grip your cheeks
And plunge myself into your lips, into your body.
I am not afraid of the moment before we ****
That your body convulses with passion and your extremities stretch toward my very being.
You are a wildfire I never want to be put out.
You burn me, time and time again
But I am the oxygen that keeps your flames thriving
And you are the fire that keeps my heart warm.
"What are you afraid of?" I ask,
He looks at me with the stars in his eyes and looks down,
"Us".
His body creases with pain
And in that moment I know,
I know that even though we are the fire,
Maybe, just maybe, I am engulfing him in my flames.

Rolling over to see your eyelashes batting your cheekbones
Is how I want to wake up forever.
Watching the ends of your lips curve into that sweet and sultry smile,
I could stare at you forever.
You are magnificent, a beauty of the mysterious
Because under everything,
I'm still trying to figure out how your brain
Could see me,
And see beauty.

I'm kind of drunk again.
But I can still hear you laughing
That same thoughtful laugh.
I can still hear you playing music way too loud
As you curse our neighbors for being those old boring people we swore we'd never be,
I'm kind of drunk again,
The kind of drunk we used to get when we were way to young
And to proud to drink anything besides *****
That same old, cheap ***** that I still drink
From time to time
To remember the way we danced atop my bed
And cursed the morning sunrise
I may be kind of drunk again.
But it will never fully bring back
The people that we were
Or what we thought we were
It will never bring back the feeling
Of being drunk at 2 am
Ringing the doorbells of the men we loved.
I'm just kind of drunk again,
Thinking about you always.

you are immortal
inside my words
living and breathing within every line

i torment myself for my inability to love,
my inability to sense the light after the storm.
i spend my days wondering when,
when will i give myself to another
when will the world be ready?

You were laying in a bathtub
And all they did was wash you.
You were alone.
Bruised toes hanging of out the white porcelain.
Your hair, damp and thick with mildew, dripped off my fingers.
And you were alone.
All they did was wash you.
Blue lips, puckered as if to say your final speech
That everyone around you left you alone,
Entirely alone.
Until the only one left to find you,
Was me.