You were blazing
Burning
Lightning,
Pushing yourself too far,
And it was worth it every time.

I was the stars
In a night
That already had too much light
For me to be seen,
Getting lost in the pull
To recede back into what I was.

But you found me
You found me.

You reach out your hand,
Despite your fear,
Despite your pain,
Despite all the hurt that you know.

I did not extend my arm so that my fingers could graze yours.

Instead, I only stared as my sunset eyes
Took on the color
Of the dark, airless vacuum around me.

But I saw your lightning, as your tears drifted toward me.
As your Earth's gravitational pull ****** you back down into your atmosphere.

But you fought it.

You fought it.

And you brought me home.

I know I would be dead without my medication
a day off and I dream more than I could ever imagine
two days and I'm seizing on the floor
withdrawal so intense I'm dizzy and crying
and shaking, nauseous,
a phantom explosion in my head
I feel off
Three days and I'm hospitalized
I feel like an addict
but I have to tell myself that I am back to square one
back to the chemical imbalance I was before the
prescription healed me to be
This is normal
you are not an addict
you are sane

But that one day off I love
I sleep so deeply I feel dead to the world
comatose with lucid dreams
I dream so vividly I can feel them in my waking self
I know I can't fly yet my dreams say I can
I would spend days in this trance if I could
Last night I dreamed I was in Disney
My medication causing me true terror through amazement
yet this morning I felt off
and tired
and like I would ***** any minute
I wish these symptoms would stop
I wish I just felt normal without it
But the chemistry in my brain never adds up
I want to be trapped in the feeling of constant dreams
It's when I can truly live

My father said believe in nothing
My mother told me everyone will do you wrong
I thought to be taught a wise lesson
Sang along this song for far too long
Wasn't sure I'd know how to forget
or how to move on

My father cried only once
My mother never stopped her tears
Are we just vessels to be filled
with our forerunners' endless fears
Of a life that is begging to be lived
Just to be dead on arrival at the piers

My aunt said do what's asked of you
In the end no one could tell me how it's done
I jumped off the boat of broken ones
and got washed up at distant shores unknown
Though since then I saw many bright suns
never has anything clear been shown

Endless days of wondering
endless ways to go on pretending
always kneedeep in my head, always pondering
and how fiercely I'd like to be defending
the fragile insides of my chest but I let them keep plundering
hearts and hopes are constantly breaking and mending

To this shell I'm bound
for now my heart is cold and my ghost is still
in awe of what I haven't found
sitting on my mind's windowsill
wishing for a wind of change. May it be profound.

lately
I haven't been writing
like I used to
it used to be a flow of words
love or hate didn't matter
I just loved it when
the words
landed on the paper
elegant like butterflies
but now
they turned into rocks
scratching the paper
hurting my mind
they change
every poem I write to

please like me
please like
me please like me
please like me please
like me
please

A girl is *****, but wait for the punchline
Except it is not a joke,
And it is an actual punch
Hitting her left cheek

As I sit in a coffee shop,
Her story is being played
Through the speakers, while playing on the news
Everyone giving their own opinion

A couple of men sit at the table beside me
The bald one states that she asked for it
My eyes roll as a drop of coffee runs down my chin

The one with a large mustache laughs
States, "her mother was a failure."
The third man ignores his ignorant friends
But instead listens to the young girl's story

Bald one says her clothes were too tight
Mustached one states that the skirt was too short
Her knees were showing
Knees that are now bruised and ******

The third man states that it wasn't the
FAULT OF THE GIRL
But instead the FAULT of the man
He states that a woman should be able to wear
WHAT she pleases
WHEN she pleases

The bald and the mustached nod in agreement
One says that her clothes aren't the problem
The other says that women need RESPECT

As a woman, covered head to toe walks past
The men stare, except the third
Because it is not the woman's fault
And he understands that

But it is the FAULT of men
Who "cannot control it."

it's hard to focus on your distant image
with his so clear in front of me,
growing stronger by day
yes, you are still in my mind
but my brain seems to like him more--
playing image after image of his chestnut hair
and sweet smile,
kind words and warm hugs
while your curly hair and crooked teeth
are only played
when your name shows up on my phone.
yes, my brain likes him better
but the real question is
how does my heart feel?