I've been praying for a sign
But I've been pretending not to see
Claiming I can't read
Yet here I am, dumbstruck on the ground
Knocked off my feet
And there is no easy way to piece your life together
All we can do is have hope
And you've always given me hope
You've always been my wistful hope

i'm afraid now
because what if you can't

                                        can't
           ­                             don't
                           ­             won't



you can always think you know someone so well
until you see the parts of them that are ghosts

                                                         ­   ghosts
                                                      ­      vampires
                                               ­             werewolves

          and let's not forget the DEMONS

                   because on the inside
                              i'm always  **Halloween

Pressure every where I turn
Everyone wants something

They want me to do well in school
They want me to excel at work

They want me to be home
They want me to be social

They want me to be an adult
They want me to ask for help

They want me to be strong
They want me to open up

Everything is what they want
When is it going to be what I want?
When can I be me?
When will my voice be heard?

you hear the crash
shattered glass
shards fall like tears
and scatter like ashes
sharp angles glitter
glitter and shine

don't touch
don't help
don't salvage
don't hold

do not touch the glass
you'll smudge the reflection
leave prints
don't leave prints
when you let go they'll be left behind
burning deep into the fibers
like hands holding embers
like scars of war
cuts will leave scars
so

don't touch
don't help
don't salvage
don't hold

the broken glass leaves stains on your hands
on your clothes
on your mind
on your heart
blood pumping
blood pouring out
blood run cold
more than a fracture
jagged edges that will never fit the same

so *don't touch me*.

When you pack and unpack
And move into your dorm
What will you do
With the memories I tucked into your hand
With the hand I gave you to trust
With the smile that you always summon from me
With the words I made sure you heard
With the heart I've given you

Will you bring them with you
Or leave them for your brothers to pick through

My back with a two degree spinal curve is not quite flat against the wall
My tall but not tall enough height puts me just below your six-one chin
My small, pianist hands are easily held to the side by just one of yours
My dancers legs refuse to part but that's not what you're here for
My long neck is the target as you stand amid the congret I long to fade into

What day is today?
I haven't done much sleeping.
          I can't guess that look on your face...
     I pass right through you --
       Or you through me.
                                      ...The feeling is the same,
                                No matter the details.

          "The invisible hand,"
                                They say it guides us all.
            That, in combination
                                                  With your well measured affection,
                                           Is perhaps why I feel
                                                    so small.