You are a kind of comfort
I want to wrap myself in
A type of warmth
That I have never quite known
It is christmas in your arms
There are street lights in my stomach
And I am dancing on pavement
Dimly lit yet glowing
I have never been
So content with feeling small
But I want to be folded into the pocket
Of your favorite winter jacket
And found when shuffling hands search for memory
Admist chilly air and temperature
I know
That California
Does not know cold as well as I do
But if it did
I'm sure
Would want to be under your shelter
I'm certain
If California
Knew you
It would envy
Your warmth.

I wonder
How it is possible
That I am able
To miss something
So terribly
That I
Have never had
That
Has never
Been mine.

When you love someone who is not there
Your mind will learn to create
Draw images of how everything should be
Erase ones that depict how it actually is
Eventually you will forget what is real
And what is make believe
You will convince yourself
That you are not forgotten
And that even though you haven't heard from him in days
He still thinks of you
You will tell yourself
That you are still wanted
Regardless of the fact that you barely want anything to do with yourself
You will somehow believe that someone else does
He will not tell you though
You have to remind yourself that he is too busy
Too involved even for a hello
You will have to remember
That his life never intended on having you be part of it
And that you
Will probably never be a part of it
You will constantly be reminded of every time you were promised future
And your wanting for it will become unbearable
You will lay awake at night like you always do
This time tasting of more than just alcohol and regret
You will swallow your own tongue wondering why fate never seems to be on your side
Thinking maybe you were never meant to love in the first place
That meeting him was a mistake
You should have known better anyway
To fall for a guy
With a heart already occupied
You know all too well
That there is not enough room in one for two
And you are the tenant with the most vacant body
Stop trying to fill yourself with things that don't exist
You will need to recall
Every single time you have built yourself up
Your expectations piling above you
Never anticipating the crash
You always seem to be staring blank eyed
When everything around you crumbles into disaster
You learn to pick up the pieces
And glue them into something decent enough to look at
Your mind is still painting pictures
On a canvas that will most likely never be tangible
And you will be reminded of it when you're laying in bed
And your hands grab for someone who is not there
When you love someone who is not there
You will spend every second of the day
Searching for them in crowded rooms
When in reality
You know
They weren't there to begin with
And they probably
Never will be.

I believe in promise more than I should
Grew up thinking that pinkys bent together were the strongest bond there is
I am just now learning how to ease my grip
Learning
How to break the rope I tie with vow
Just before it catches into noose
I have been hung from the rafters of my own vulnerability
Too many times before
And I am learning
How to build back strong
Learning
How to keep my doors locked
Trying
To stop letting people in
Those who lure me with the pledge of future
Who tell me their intentions are golden
And I,
The silver plated woman
Have nothing to worry about
But I've seen platinum turn to rust right before my eyes
And too often does metal twist into deceit
I want to believe
That everyone who gives me oath
Is genuine in their undertaking
I want to believe
That it is impossible
To tell someone you care
And then out of nowhere just pack up and leave
I never understood
How it is anyone is able
To wake up one morning
And just stop loving
How you could swear interest for months
And then one day just lose it
I am done
Holding on to words that never meant anything in the first place
How many times do I have to hit hard until I learn
To stop jumping in head first
I am still believing
And forgetting the lie within it
Forgetting
That pinkys can break too
Bone is not shatterproof
Yet somehow
Still heals much quicker than heart
My hopes
Are so much brighter than my reality
And every time they fail
I still find ways to put blame on something else
On someone else
But never the one who drops me
I still remember your promise
Still fresh from your tongue
I am holding on to it in the palm of my hand
Grasping it between fingers
Morphing it into skin
Trying to convince myself
That you're going to come back for it
That the leave was only temporary
See
I am skilled in the art
Of never letting go
It is a practice
I have mastered
And I do not intend
On stopping
Even if you never return
Even if I
Never come back down to earth
I am perfectly content with this delusion
Wake me up
When there is solace
In something other than falsity
Wake me up
When I finally find someone
Willing
To come back to me.

The odds of being struck by lightning
Are one in 3,000
I watched from a window
As 13 people that were not me
Got struck by it
Just a few feet away
From where I was standing
And I am left thinking
About how that could have so easily
Been me
Out of curiosity
I looked up odds in a lifetime
I wanted to know
How often things happen
What came up
Consisted only of odds of dying
And I laughed
Thinking
About all of the other odds
That were more important than death
That were more interesting
Than freak accidents
And demise
How about the odds of meeting someone
With the same exact name
Or the odds
Of loving someone who loves the same stuff
As you do
The odds
Of throwing a perfect game in baseball
Are one in 18,192
The odds of finding your soulmate
Are one in 10,000
And more people are concerned
Of getting bit by a shark than finding love
The chances of that happening
Are one in 11.5 million
Sharks are not the enemy
We are
If you ask me
I would say
I'd much rather focus
On the rare positives
There are good things that happen daily
That happen unexpectedly
It is better to hope for those
Than worry about ones unlikely
You can measure the past
All you want
Give it numbers
And try predict future
But one thing you cannot do
Is measure life.

There is so much blue
In my life
It is the color
That I cannot stop seeing
It is in my eyes
It is everywhere
Blue
When you left
It was out of it
Blue
I panic, forget to breathe
And almost turn it
Blue
My veins scream it
But I still bleed red
Blue
My skin from his hands
I cannot shake them off of me
Blue
There is so much
I want to drown in it
The ocean
Looks especially blue today
And so does my heart
I did not know
That color could be felt
But I feel it
All over
It is blue
All over
And nobody can see it
But me.

This city
Has so many bright lights
And 3.8 million people
That live in it
Some nights
I go out
Frequent bars that are too loud
Drink whiskey that is too strong
Try to drown out the noise in my head with greetings
And meaningless conversation
Some nights
I go out
Always secretly hoping
In the back of my mind
That maybe
I'll run into you
I can almost swear
That I see you
Every single time
And I do
I see you
In faces of strangers
In smiles unfamiliar
In shoulders that accidentally brush my own
I mistake each one of them for you
Maybe it's because everyone has the same stupid haircut as you do
Or dresses in that vintage way that you like to
Whatever it is
I cannot stop seeing you
I cannot stop seeing the ghost of what never was
The fact that our vessel had been abandoned long before setting sail
How your promises always read false
Your intentions never true
The reality that you
Are never going to be mine
And I
Am never going to be
Yours
You have already forgotten me
And I
Am trying so hard to forget you
But in this city
There are so many bright lights
And neon signs
That I am often blinded by hope
My imagination
Makes you reappear suddenly
And I start to see things
That aren't there
Put you in spaces
Where I know you don't belong
In this city
Filled with millions
All of them wandering aimlessly
I can only wonder
If your heart jumps out of your chest
When you see blonde hair and red lipstick
I have always been lost
And I can only wonder
If you ever find me
If maybe you stopped looking
A long time ago
Or if you never even searched
In the first place
Regardless
I still manage to see you
Everywhere
I can only wonder
Where you are
Tonight
And if you see me
Too.

It is 3am
And I lay in bed
The rain is singing me to sleep once again
Thunder rolling against the summer heat
Lightning blinking against the pale purple walls of my childhood bedroom
I came home yesterday
And tonight
I lay in bed
Listening to the rain
For a moment it stops
And I sense myself restless
I have always found comfort in storm
The sudden halt of it stirs me
The clouds have cleared into empty
And I sit, longing
I want the rain to come back to me like a forgotten lover
Want it to soothe me to sleep like it always does
But I know
That the sky
Isn't going to cry
Because I want it to
I know
That the sky will not be angry
Just because I am
I cannot expect nature
To take on the responsibility of lullaby
Cannot expect the weather
To try and match emotion
I want nothing more
Than to watch the downpour caress my windowsill
Watch the drops race against glass
I want
To hear the music that is torrent
But it is 3am
And I lay in bed
Knowing that the sky isn't going to cry
Because I want it to
Knowing
That things do not occur
Because I want them to
Life just happens
Ignorant of want
And the sky will only cry
When it feels like it.

The hardest battle of all
Is the one you fight with yourself
The hardest battle to overcome
Is the one that nobody can see
But you
The worst enemy
Is the dull ache dwelling underneath a bright smile
One that has the capacity
To make millions laugh
One that succeeds
In doing so
But happiness is not always gained
In knowing the number of lives impacted by yours
Happiness is not defined
By the amount of people who love you
Crowded rooms are not saviour from drowning
And opens arms cannot always catch the falling
There is no guide
On how to wrestle your demons
And there is no clear solution
On how to win
Often times you will end up pinned to the ground
And finding the strength to pull yourself up
Can be more than just a challenge
Depression
Is the cold war
That nobody talks about
The one they forget to mention in school
We skip over it in text books and discussions
Assuming that if we forget its existence
It will vanish completely
But the only outcome of a closed mouth and stigma
Is our own disappearance
And it will never be romantic
To watch our loved ones fade
Because they couldn't figure out
How to love themselves
Enough to stay
It will never be desirable
To turn to dust under bright lights
While the whole world watches in awe
Depression
Is not something that can just be cured
With chemicals and someone to listen
It is a constant struggle
Of living in an empty mansion
Filled with hallways of locked doors
And spending every day of your life trying to find a way out
Depression
Is living in your body
But feeling like your wearing someone elses skin
Is watching excitement happen
But being unable to touch it
To taste it
Depression
Tastes of kerosene and ethanol
And every missed step
Every small conflict
Is a lit match
Thrown into the pit of your stomach
Depression
Is unapologetic
It will take everyone you love
And turn them into monster
Will take your reflection
And turn it into ugly
Depression
Will chew with sharp teeth
Then spit you out to an unforgiving world
In crooked pieces
There is no easy way
To put yourself back together
There is no easy way
To tell who is coming apart at the seams
And even the softest of souls
Can fall victim to their sadness
Some will relent to belt and door frame
To knot and heavy wrists
But the battle does not have to end ******
The battle does not have to end in regret
In what should have been done
In what could have been prevented
This battle
Is not going to cease
Without a fair fight
And although the one you take on with yourself
May be the hardest one ever fought
Do not give in
Do not give up
Even when your bones are purple from bruise
And your skin is ripped from sharpness
Do not yield to disaster
Do not succumb to darkness
Do not surrender
There is someone
Who will miss you
Do not forfeit
For this battle
Is not through
And your story
Is not over
Yet.

Pablo Neruda wrote too many love poems
Almost all about how someone compares to the ocean
But he forgot
The often times both human
And nature
Are more storm than calm
The sea is reckless and unforgiving
And already there are too many writings
About softness and sweet
Too many sonnets about gentle
Love
Is not gentle
Love grabs from the roots and pulls with savage hands
Demands to be more than just flower
More than white petal admiration
Love is thorn and finger-pricking
Bleeding palms and heavy skin
Love
Is often ugly
And I am wondering how
Neruda found it possible
To find so much beauty in it
How it is possible
To write so much beauty
I can only guess
That he must have had a love
Greater than most
A love that molded his heart into convection oven
Spitting his words into saccharin and sweet
Candy for the world to savor in their mouths
Maybe he always wrapped his language in gold
Or maybe it's just that he saw what others couldn't
Found spark in the ordinary
Somehow managed
To string together letters in crochet
Sew them into masterpiece
I want a love
That can make me do the same
I still think Neruda
Wrote too many love poems
But it makes sense
When you are told to write what you know
And all you know
Is love.

Some nights
I stand on stage
And read lines I have written
Lend my soul to strangers
And hope they enjoy it for the hour
I look out from blackness
To a crowd of many faces
But none of them
Are for me
Afterwards
I step out to greeting hands on shoulders
Smiling patrons with admiring words
But none of them
Are familiar
None of them
Are for me
I do not invite
Those I love
And the ones I do invite
Never come
Because they don't really love me at all
I do not invite
Those who do
To come watch me dissolve
Underneath these bright lights
I do not spill myself out
To those who already know what lays inside
My poetry is a blanket for everything ugly
And there is no need
To place it on those who have already seen what is underneath
Some nights
I am saddened by this
By entertaining a crowd that knows nothing more
Than my name and writing
Yes they have seen me bleed
And to them,
It is nothing more
Than an act
But there is no clotting after the show
No army of white blood cells to end the spillage
It is just me
Along with the remnants of what I've poured out that day
What people often forget
Is that my words follow me home
Some nights
I share them with others
But most nights
I keep them to myself
And every night
They stay with me
Sleep in my bed
The only good is in the reassurance
Of knowing they will be there
In the morning
Unlike every other
Who has left after the ******
Everyone
Always leaves
And I am afraid
That if I wring myself empty
To those who already love me
They will do the same
I do not know
How to clean up my mess with pride
I only know
How to sweep it aside
So for now
I will continue
To stand on stage
And read lines I have written
Lend my soul to strangers
And hope they enjoy it for the hour
I know they will
My performance
Is their escape.

You weren't as great
As I painted you out to be
Maybe I'm just a good artist.

I am homesick
For a place
I have not yet found.