Manchester weeping
inconceivable losses
for a madman's game

my heart goes out to those grieving...such potential lost
such a hard loss....we weep also

the creek meets
the pond
when there
is flood, rising
above the ridge
as the footprint-shaped
little lake
meets it halfway.
they like to come into
the house, spread
silt, little fish, bits
tinged by the green
of the stagnant
rushed by the clear
of the quick,
inch up the walls
of the downstairs
deck to creep
through cracks
onward. time and time
insurance claims
take care of it
and each time, my
renovates in new
colors. this last
time, the downstairs
family room
is cream and blue.
when the creek
its flow
back along the woods,
it leaves
the pond muddy,
its ecosystem bloody,
the remains
from the flood paid for
by time and insured
by the sun and moon
to rebuild.

he waits until his feet
hit his dirt floor before
he thanks the Great One
for allowing the sun
to rise again    

he walks through
well worn weeds to make
water, and again gives thanks
he could pass the water, and saw
no serpent in the grass  

this is a blessed day
for he has yams and fruit
left in his hut; he finds little
mold on these gifts from the
ground, the trees    

he looks to the sky
for omens--it is mauve
with morning, but the clouds
have no foreboding shapes
again, he gives thanks  

before and after his repast,
there are the prayers, then the silence
in which he has learned he will hear the voice
which commands all, its words in cadence
with the slow beating in his chest

My father told me
to kill myself.
Lacking like-mindedness,
thankfully I've never been one
to do as they're told.

Knuckles white,
gripping the steering wheel,
face flush,
my inner monologue tells me
to drive straight through the curve.
A crash a crunch and a click.
This accident had a purpose;
was on purpose.
Upside-down, perspective is vertigo.
Clarity is a crack in the windshield.

Shattered glass lay around me.
Lump in my throat
from a pill too large to swallow.

So I crawl to an antique store
and purchase an urn.
A pull from a cigarette, I tap
the ash into the urn.
When the pack is finished
I place the lid
and hand the contents
to my father.


i am a lot of things
to you
i may read as an
amateur poet
perfecting her art
to my parents i am
their failure
their too much and not enough
their daughter who acts
their "why do you fake everything?"
their "why don't you sing anymore?"
their "how long have you been smoking weed?"
their "i'm disappointed in you"
their "i knew you were going to be a slut"
their "bisexuality is bullshit
why is everything with you for attention?"
their "why can't you be perfect like your brother?"
their "pretend you're happy or cry in your room"
their "cry in your pillow i don't want to hear that"
their "why must you fake every fucking thing?
if you want to act audition for plays
i don't want your bullshit in my house"
but i only fake happy
the joy that lights my face
everywhere but my hollow
and you see, they are only hollow
and dark
because i walk the shadows
with my left foot stretching out
in front of me
i've walked the shadows my whole life
with a cane on my back
and blood etched into my chest
you see i
am a rape victim
there i said it
what i've denied for so long
in hopes that i could be strong
and carry on
and just get over it
like i was told i should
but i cannot trust anyone
or anything
because he always said
my 9 and 10 and 11
year old body
was appeasing
so what do i do now
now that i am a young woman
who's growing into these
"great things" he always said i had
but i never had
not then
and i know you will hurt
me too
i know you will hurt
me too
but maybe this is just a
perhaps i am a butterfly
and my PTSD is just a jar
or could it be that i am
not real was never
because i do not feel
i shrink from my own skin
because your handprints are still there
i am a walking skeleton
afraid of having a body
yet i yearn to have a body
but i only wish
you did not have eyes
god do i hate the fact that men can see me
because i can see the despicable things
that rack their lustful vision
tear my feathers
clip my wings
pour bleach on them
make sure it stings
2 years later
not a second goes by that
i did not eye
every suspicious man
who followed me when i walked
and i started to get over it
it wouldn't happen again
i repeated
single night before my eyes closed
and you stomped through my dreams
cutting all of my seams
i was 13
the day he offered me a drink
and some weed
and of course i obliged
because i know him
i know him
i see him every day
and his flesh is plenty real
he is real
and i wonder
if he stole my real
when he stole everything else
i drank until the bottom of the bottle
looked like a pool of blood
i could sink into
i smoked until my throat
was black and charred
like all of my unworthy pieces
burnt until they are ash
he told me
words i can never scrape out of my ears
out of my head
i want them out of my head
they are pills i digested
that stuck to my kidney
my body never forgave me
"i am only here
to get you drunk and fuck you
but i'm not doing that this time"
and now i live in constant fear
bum you a cigarette and a light
so i don't have to hear
your voice crackle like a fire
that burns too high
it scalds me
i am a lot of things
and i do believe
that weak
is not one of them.

This is a really personal piece and I'm absolutely insane to post this but I think my story needs shared because I have hidden from it for too damn long.

she wonders why
she goes for the type of guy
who is too far from her
too far out of her reach
she: actually loves the thrill

she thinks that
it's just bad luck that all the guys
she likes rarely reply
take way too long
she: loves the suspense

she waits patiently
for the day that some guy, anyone
will want her as much
as she wants them
she: scares them

she's passionate
she dives in deep
and she needs someone
a thrill-seeker just like her

If our eyes
Should latch
Whilst pretending
To gaze unconcerned,
On some inconsequential street
Into days with sun and rainbows,
Dandy as lions on fields of praise,
Magical in bluish skies, mysterious
As eyes grasping without guile nor plan
Nor pains, then we might love as birds low,
Sing above, then we might truly be, become
Alive in the light of another lone, pining star
Under the infinite, shining, unruly heavens.

Of all the things you want to discover in this lifetime, dont forget to include yourself. Find yourself and once you do, introduce him to all of your doubts, to all the person you thought you were, to all of the world. Find yourself, so well, that when death comes rushing through your door, it shall wonder why even in your deathbed you are more incredibly alive and radically whole than the day you were born.


When I was young
I didn't have any doctor bills
now I get statements
special delivery, envelopes
full of X-rays I hold up
to the moon, that rock
sinking deep in my gut
looking like all of those cold
feelings I've swallowed
the many curses held inside
wooden matches chewed twice
and not spat out, a cancer
like a two-headed speckled trout
swimming around
trying to find its way out
when in fact it's just a feeling
I get trying to swallow regrets
one rusty old fish hook at a time.


i could never ever  forget the night i met nari. it was like magic, like the powers that be wanted our destinies to collide, to crash, to blend.

it was the night a meteor shower was to come to my small town. people came from neighbouring cities just to see them, these bright lights, these shooting stars. everyone was camping out, the high school's football field covered with trucks and blankets and tents. There were even people cuddling with blankets wrapped around them in the bleachers, their words filling the air as they prepared to stare at the sky, prepared to see something more beautiful than anything they'd ever seen.

i was doing the same, sitting in the back of my dad's truck with a blanket over my shoulders, but i was beginning to doze off. i was feeling a sensation much like falling, when i heard a someone speaking in my direction.

"need help staying awake?"

it turns out, i didn't need to stare at the sky and see a meteor shower to see something more beautiful than anything i'd ever seen. i just needed to open my eyes and look at her. she was smiling, and god, she had a smile that grow flowers, birth stars, and mend butterfly wings. and she was smiling. at. me.


an excerpt from chapter one of my cute short story ft. mira and nari

(irl mira don't be mad that i used ur name i just love the name and used it, but i can change it if you have beef)

careless fingers,
they will
always take.
they never
will learn that...
fragile hearts
don't just break.

so brittle they crack
under pressure.
then into
a million shards,



I should have known that they were right,
But I wanted so desperately to believe,
That maybe you could actually care,
Its only myself that I have deceived.

I was blinded with hope and happiness,
My dreams were starting to come true,
But I wasnt worth any sacrifice,
Guess I didn't mean that much to you.

My heart feels lost, but still intact,
While hurting you don't feel,
This emptiness inside of me,
Just doesnt seem to be real.

I shouldve known from the beginning,
You would end up making me cry,
I just wish you would have told me:
That our last kiss was a kiss goodbye.

 May 16
Leslie Jade

if you ever ask me
how great my day went by
do not dare to listen
for it will all be lies

if you ever ask me
when was the last time I laughed
make me smile then
it has been ages since I had it

if you ever ask me
how extraordinary my life is
turn your back and find someone else
my life has never been as exetraordinary as theirs

if you ever ask me
where did my old self go
dont come find her
she has already been lost

It has been months since i last posted so here you go
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