It is another one of those early mornings when hatred spews out of my body and aims for itself, I never miss. I have always been good at reaching targets, even better when I myself am bullseye.
I shoot directly for the mirror. Into my thighs, my chest, this mountain range of a body. I send my angry in a direct path towards my folds, my stomach, my skin, in all that is human. I launch bombs on my own territory like it's what I've been sent to do, like I was made to destroy what I have spent my whole life building.
I ask why it so easy to rip apart the things I've put together myself. I ask why it feels so normal to want to break down the rafters of the only shelter I will ever be able to use for protection.
I blame everything else before I blame me. I blame the girls with bodies like sunsets, that contrast my mid-day average sky of a figure. I blame the dresses that I cannot fit into, the way they **** the life out of me every time I can't stretch them past my hips. I blame genetics with absolutely no knowledge of science behind me.
I want to blame society for the hate that has been multiplying inside of me but at the end of the day I am still the one who does the math. It is still me who pours self-deprecation over my head to shower in all of the things I cannot wash out. It is still me who incites hurricane upon every part of myself that is impossible to change by nature. I am the one who detonates my disappointments like the explosion will somehow change the way I look, like the aftermath of destruction will leave me with anything but empty and wreckage.
I often forget that it is me who spoon feeds myself memories of failure at every meal. It is me who hands over guilt every time I reach for the snooze button to fall back asleep. I even shove myself in fault to depression, cover myself in darkness and then wonder why there is no light to be seen. I am the culprit in it all.
In the mornings when my mind is still circling to figure out where it left off, I point it in the direction of negative. I take all of the crooked and pile it up to remind myself of the mismatch. When I take aim at my reflection, I never miss.
I direct the ****** of my mistakes, vulnerability and insecurity directly towards my image. I have become the hitman of my own assassination. My fall into disaster is wholeheartedly my own doing. I am the best of the best when it comes to this form of damage. I never miss.

I have become quite skilled
At downing a glass of scotch
Without blinking
I needed to learn how to fill myself
With something other than you
I have become quite skilled
At drinking two bottles of wine
In one sitting
Alcohol is the easiest way
To wash you off my tongue.

Note that when I say boy
I say it with purpose
I say boy
Because only men know how to hurt with intention
And you never did

I knew it then
And I know it now
You were too good for me
You are the glowing sun on a california morning
And I am a rainy dark seattle afternoon
The only time my city ever saw blue skies and sunshine
Was when you were in it
You made me laugh
On days when the weight of the world fell on top of me
You always made things light again
I am stubborn
I always have been
I was a bull that you never tried to tame
You never asked me to slow down
Only waited patiently with open arms
For me to come to a halt
I was rough
I would pluck and pull at your thorns until you reached your breaking point
You never did though
And in my moments of panic,
All you wanted to do
Was comfort me and try to understand
I'd push you away before you could even attempt to
I remember laying in bed
Your arms outstreched and caring
And me refusing to give in
Because of some grudge I was still holding on to
We fought a lot
But every time you were the first to forgive
I mastered the art of crossed arms and silence
While you sat laughing out of frustration
Because I was so ******* ridiculous
I picked at you until you bled
Waiting for you to hurt me back
But you never did
Only men know how to hurt with intention
And hurt was the one thing you were incapable of doing
I don't think you could have
Even if you wanted to
You were the first one who didn't try to break me
And I guess I was just expecting you to
I could say I only treated you this way because I didn't know love could be stable
But I think the real reason
Was that I feared if you knew
How great you really are
You would leave
I think the real reason
I treated you so poorly
Was that I was afraid of losing you
I want you to know
That I never intended to hurt you
I know now
I should have loved you better
I should have loved you
The way you loved me.

Here is where I take your smile and
stretch it into a sunset, I
remember your words to mean
everything they didn't
I make haikus out of eyes and note how
they emit light when you laugh
This is where I draw you indelible
on the pages of a notebook
I color you vivid, write you
permanent, take non-fiction and
turn it fantasy,
Into something we might watch
together on a Sunday night
I designate you hero of the story and
I wait with tired arms
to be lifted into yours
Here is where I create a landscape
out of ash and worship you with
language you don't deserve,
vocabulary that is too big for your small
Here is what could easily be a love poem if
you were someone who wanted one but
the only want you have isn't for me

The razor blade in the cabinet gets thrown out,
it never gets the opportunity to learn deep.
I tell him to drive me home before I become too tired to care.
I save myself for someone who does.
Haley doesn't move away,
we finish high school the way we plan.
The dealer who sells death is gone the day he calls to ask for some,
when they find him,
it isn't too late.
She doesn't walk out of the party when she does,
the bullet misses her by a few minutes.
I am sweeter to my love when it exists,
I pull him around my waist as the music plays and
we drive home that night happy
I laugh at our fights and am the first to surrender always
I don't let stubborn win
I don't let it end in a single phone call
I try a little harder.
The cancer is discovered earlier or
It never comes at all.
When he takes without asking,
I take back what's mine
I don't let him leave me silent,
without fight,
I take the lit cigarette he borrows from me,
burn a gap into the center of his palm and say,
"This is what you asked for, isn't it?"
I bury my unused pepper spray in the backyard.
Nobody tells me,
"You should have been more careful."
After spilling my story,
I don't respond to the thank you for sharing
I ignore it and never have to hear his later excuse for disinterest.
I take the temporary out of his heart and give it back to him.
I stop communication the minute he says,
"I'm still with her."
I go back to the tattoo shop and cover up the words before they start to sync with memory.
When he calls me beautiful,
I call him on his *******,
I leave before he can form a response.
I don't invite him back on lonely nights.
I actually hear him say sorry.
When he asks to comeover, I say I'm busy.
I don't give him the chance to know how it feels to kiss me.
I don't answer when he wonders how I'm doing.
I don't wonder how he is.
I apologize for my mistakes with genuine sincerity.
I stop breaking already intact things.
I tie every loose end before leaving
I move away content.
I am happy.

There are a million ways
To hurt someone
You seem to know them all.

is crooning bird with
beehive nest built from soul
is sixty five years inside body of young girl
loves jazz and destructive boy
looks at him the way her voice does microphone
eyes are drawn black like cat's and she
sings the way a tail curls along wood floor
graceful  effortless  confident

shaina maidel with
a gap between her two front bent teeth
echoed laugh and studded diamond above her lip
jewish girl who wears
star of David around her neck belts
songs she writes with scratching fingers against
ink covered arms
pretty girl loves ****** and crack pipe and liquor
has a crooked mouth but hums melodies
smooth as the heart is aching

pink ballet slippers stain red
from ****** between toes
bulimia makes a home in her habits
empties stomach after every meal
makes more room for wine and ***** and whisky with coke
stumbles across a stage she does not belong to while
the audience boos and mocks while
the paparazzi stalks and preys and while
the media criticizes and
a world that doesn't quite understand does the same

we watch her disaster like
a car accident
unable to stop staring at the damage
we watch her downfall like
an avalanche in another city
it isn't ours so we do nothing to save it

this disappearing act is not magic but
a side effect of fame unwanted
dad doesn't understand that skin and
bones is foreshadow of death
says, baby, smile for the camera
baby, just do what you're supposed to
baby, just finish the tour
**** every last ounce out of her like
the wringing of a towel
it is an easy thing for a girl to become
invisible when she wants to
enough

crooning bird falls from tree and
we watch with hands at our side
bodies tilted in confusion
what a shame, we say
there is depth but it is hiding under addiction
all we see is girl destroying herself under
the fluorescents we placed above her
what a waste, we say, shaking heads
we do nothing in response

my love,
you tore boundaries with your swollen hands
they said your honest was too loud
hair too big
voice too bold
they picked with curious fingers and
gap-tooth jew girl with
the audacity to break silence
ended up breaking too

shaina maidel with
a space between her two front bent teeth
echoed laugh and studded diamond above her lip
jewish girl who could never be a star became just that
burned into supernova
graceful  effortless  confident in her
descent back to
black

Grandpa loved angels
Kept them scattered throughout his room, his house, his life
On everything from pictures, to figurines, to trinkets
Alissa found a penny with an imprint of wings with the year of her birth on it shortly after he died
How strange, we all thought
Grandpa had a lot of things,
Luck charms, knick-knacks, practical jokes he carried just in case
He kept his humor in his back pocket

I visit my grandmother in her home that used to be theirs
She is now as vacant as the Detroit winters are cold; the ten years without him have stripped her of any warmth
I think a part of her left when he did

I enter his study and look through every drawer, discovering a part I neglected to understand when it was present
I never showed much interest in anything he told me when he was still around
I only really knew of the things he kept in drawers, cabinets, on shelves
Everything he owned is as constant as it ever was
His belongings remain untouched as if he hasn’t been gone for over a decade
I feel too much alive in this office of a dead man

I run curious fingers over the bindings of books, stopping to pull at Dickinson, a faded collection of poetry inked with flowers on the front cover
I remember the dictionary the size of my six-year-old palm that intrigued me so greatly; the ability to fit so many words into such a small area was nothing short of fascinating
It is the one physical memory I took home with me after the funeral
I had wanted it always
I now picture it hiding in the back of my drawer in my childhood bedroom where I know it still is

On his desk there are so many key chains, bills from another generation, maps, postcards, watches
So many things I am not sure what to call them
I am not sure about a lot but
Grandpa loved angels
Angels and ***** jokes
One to keep you safe and the other to make you laugh
I keep both with me always,
Just in case.

I am angry for the way your eyes touched mine, how
They looked at me and without thinking, made contact,
You
Opened your mouth and the word beautiful
Fell out

I don't know if it was the 2 am restlessness or
the alcohol speaking but
What you said burned a pit in my stomach
I planned on filling it with your smile but
you stopped sharing it with me

I wanted to pile the void high with the thought of how your
Hand pushed hair behind my ear and
Your arms reaching out like you needed me

You told me,
I was beautiful
Whether or not it was an accident does not matter when
I can still feel how your breath felt brushing my cheek as you spoke and
How I blushed, laughing, turning my head to break the connection
I shook it in response saying,

"No, I am not"

Because beautiful things don't confess to their own knowledge of being

You said yes
I said no,

Because beauty is a privilege I have never been allotted

You said yes, you are
I said okay

I don’t know why you had to tangle truth into a lie
If I were truly beautiful to you, you would say hello and still mean it
I'd like to think that if I really were, you would want nothing else but to hold me at all hours of the day, to
Kiss the face you held in your palms and just watch the up and down of my eyelashes but
You don't and I understand, it's okay

It has been a month or two since you spilled poison into my open heart and
for the first time I am remembering this encounter,
It is too sweet for your now bitter
I ask myself why I still think of you and
I know it is due to the way you spoke to me, how
You touched me too gently for too long
Your fingerprints left holes in my memory foam skin, I let you get too close.

This is simply sadness that
is too tired to morph into anger
I am only angry in how you made roses out of words
to plant them in my garden, unfit to grow
I could never keep much else alive besides myself and
everything dies out eventually
I should have guessed that we would too.

I share a bed
With anxiety
It's no wonder I can't sleep.

I speak with apology in my voice
Almost every word I say is followed by sorry
And my conversations are often riddled with insecurity
I do not mean remorse
But I was bred from repentance
Mother told me be cautious of my speech
Taught me that speaking my mind
Is not lady like
That profanity
Is not feminine
I learned to replace my ***** with apologies
Muted my voice with shame
Always reluctant to say how I feel
Afraid to withhold
I was told
That the worst word in the english language is no
Engrained this belief so deeply into muscle memory,
That when he took without permission
Refusal didn't even cross my mind
The word no
Never made it through my vocal chords
And out past my lips
When I blamed myself afterwards
It felt more warranted
Than actually accepting the reality
That this
Was not right
I somehow managed though
To place the fault on myself
For his taking
Of what is rightfully mine
I placed the fault on myself
Not for my inability to decline
But for feeling like this was what I deserved
I was raised
How every young girl always has been
In quiet tones and hushed voices
In keeping secrets and asking for forgiveness
I was taught how to please a man
But was barely even familiar with my own anatomy
Knew how to reach male *******
But not my goals
I was taught that women
Are here to satisfy
And that my body
Was made to satisfy
A present to be saved and someday gifted
That pure is synonymous with wanted
That my value was only to be determined
By the number of times I have slept in a bed other than my own
I was raised thinking
That all I could ever be was leftover ash
Nobody ever told me
That I am made of fire
Capable of burning at the touch
I grew up believing
That I was nothing more than a burnt out star
Dust to be picked up and reassembled by whatever man chooses to fix me
I was told
That I should call myself lucky for the saviour
And if I get the chance
I sure as hell better take it
I was trained to believe
That being with someone
Meant that *** is always wanted
I learned how to speak guilt before I learned the word consent
And I am just now learning
That all of this
Is mistake
What we were taught
Is mistake
But I am not a mistake
And there is no room for sorry to follow every question I pose
There are far too many words to get out
And not enough time
For silencing
I have realized
That I
Am meant to be here
And there is no apology
Needed.

Do not get yourself into trouble
I have been told this too many times before
Warned that my clothing
Or lack of
Is enough to justify another person's actions
What I have been told by my mother
What she means
In much simpler words
Is
Don't get *****

My mother's concern is understood
I am 5'1 and do not breathe fire out of my mouth as I would wish to
I am not a master in the art of
Self defense
Only sarcasm
And making myself look pretty enough
To catch the wandering eyes of men
But neither of these
Are invitations
To my body

What my mother is saying
When she says don't get yourself into risky situations
Is don't drink
Because if you do
It then becomes your fault
As if the increase of alcohol
In my blood
Makes me more responsible
For another mans decisions to take what is rightfully mine

What my mother is saying
Is that it is okay to look good
But not good enough
For someone to want you that way
How do i tell her
That ****
Is not about what you look like
Or what you wear
That it is solely
About power

My mother tells me to cover up
Implying that ****
Has something to do with
The appearance of my *******
Or curviness of my hips
Tell me mother
If this is true
Why do millions of girls worldwide
Who are covered head to toe
Get ***** daily
How is it that
They can be fully clothed
Yet still stripped of their dignity
Constantly

To me
The worst part is
That we teach women how to protect
More often
Than we teach men to not touch
Do you know mother
How dangerous it is
To give out these warnings
As a disclaimer

It is a dangerous thing
To play games with blame
Politicians do
A good enough job of it already
Therefore
We do not need our own mothers
To do so as well

What we need
Is for our mothers
To tell their sons
About
Boundaries
And teach them
That consent
Is not written
Into the lines
Of shown skin
On a woman's body

What we need mother
Is to stop the defense
Of actions that have no predecessor
What we truly need
Is to stop telling our daughters
That they are responsible
For preventing the doings
Of someone who was never taught
That no means no.

You say you hate Los Angeles,
the city but mostly people there and
I can't help but wonder how
you managed to meet everyone
in the entire county,
a couple million or so,
from the few trips you took out here

But I think the problem isn't that
you hate Los Angeles
I think the problem is
you love me too much
at least I'll tell myself that when
I'm laying in bed with open eyes
wondering why you aren't here

I offer you planes, plans, my wallet
I say I'll pay, just for two days and
you say no without hesitation
I say I have a life and
I want you to see it and
you say you have no interest

Well,
if you have no interest then
why are you calling me?
why waste time talking over
nothing?
what is it that you are so
aftaid of?

You say we'll fight and
I know it's true although
it's not suffice to say
it's all we'd do
I say what about the making up that
comes after it all,
isn't that worth it
after all?

I can't have you in
my life if you're not here
this is something I know
I reach for arms that aren't there and
It's a bad habit I'm getting used to
I don't want to go back to
my old life
I want you to be in my new

but you hate Los Angeles and
school and everything in
life is too hard for you
you're mad I have opinions and
you never listen to them anyway
so you can stay
in the heat that will eventually
become cold
and I'll leave you alone because
that's what you want

I know it isn't
but I don't want to go back to
my old life
so I guess all there is to do
is to just find someone
new

I am homesick for your arms
Your touch
How we lay intertwined in bed
So effortlessly
Your body
Is more of a house
Than the one I live in
I know it so well
I could close my eyes
And see every inch
Your body
Is a road map
I have spent hours memorizing
I know every ridge of your skin
Every curve
I have traced the trail
That leads to your lips
Over and over again
You are so familiar
That without you
I miss you
But what I miss more,
Is the way I felt with you
Comforted
And at ease
I have always loved this
About you
I have loved you
For the longest time
And although we will not be together
For quite some time
I will always remember your warmth
Your softness
Keep it in my back pocket
And pull it out on days where I feel lost
I have yet to find
Another face of stubble
That is as gentle
As yours
There is not a soul
As sweet
As yours
Your arms
Are the only pair
That can soothe me to sleep
And I am homesick for them.

Do not start something
You cannot finish
Someone will always be left
Unsatisfied
And disappointment
Tastes so much worse
Than rejection
Do not build
What you do not plan
On maintaining
Do not start a fire
If you have no intention
Of putting it out
Do not promise the stars
When you are only capable of dust
Do not shoot for the moon
With blind aim
That is how craters come to be
And this one expanding inside of me
Is wide with regret
There are third degree burns
On the inside of my chest where my heart used to live
I do not know
How to put end to what you started
I have always been combustible
And this
Is nothing more
Than arson
Do not start something
You cannot finish
Someone will always be left
In flames.

You say you want romance
That you want it all painted out

You tell me you crave
Something beautiful
Vivid enough
For you to be able to stare
At it all day
And never lose interest

Well I'm not much of an artist
But I think I could be for you

I could draw in the features
Fill in the details
And color by number
Every single part of the picture
It might take me a while
But I've got time

My hands are unsteady
So forgive me if some lines
Are a bit uneven
I cannot promise you perfection
But I can try my best

I would take the steps to learn
How to capture passion
On a simple piece of paper
I would train myself in the talent
So that one day I could create
With a level of skill
Superior to others

See I am not much of an artist
But for you I would be
So I could paint the romance
That you want so badly

I am not much of an artist
But for you I would be
So I could paint you that image,
The one you've always wanted
And put both of us in it.

I'd like to say I don't think of you
That you don't cross my mind until your name crosses my screen
And only then do I take the time to care

I'd like to say that I don't
That I haven't devoted any energy to wasting
That it is all too precious to give away to anything but positivity

I'd like to say I would need to think twice if you asked to see me
But I know too well that I wouldn't
I'd say yes
okay
of course
when
All without asking why

I don't know why some people come back and trust me when I say I want to
But I would without question welcome you with open arms and no hesitation
I wouldn't even pause to wonder why you left in the first place

I'd like to say that I'm happy,
That this heart is a filled balloon and there is enough oxygen for me to breathe easy
But sometimes I find myself suffocating on what I don't understand

I am scared that I could so easily let you back in the way I always swear I'll never do again
But I have and I do and I probably will
All you need to do is ask
And I'd say yes,
okay,
of course,
when?

I know
That I should be over by now
Or at least
That's what people
Keep telling me
But moving on seems
Like an impossible feat
When I am
Still hanging on
To words said
That meant nothing
Hoping that the flame I set inside them
Will somehow not burn out
I am
Rubbing my skin with alcohol
Trying to remove every spot
Of where your lips
Once touched
Attempting to drown my memories
In bitterness
My words are
Too complex
For you to ever comprehend
But that has yet to stop me
From writing them
So I will keep on
Until
I can melt down your place in my mind
I will keep holding on
Until I become a master
In arson.

At my worst I am a deflated pillow, memory foam mattress, lifeless exhaustion with the imprint of human, I am the still-living outer layer of a decaying earth, this being is a hollowed oak tree
I am grounded for one night at fifteen and realize that I deserve a much longer sentence than given
I did too much holding the potential of harmful; the risks were not worth the high
I miss a life without knowing you existed

I am grounded for one night at fifteen and realize that I deserve a much longer sentence than given
Mistakes are made temporary with permanent consequences
I did too much holding the potential of harmful; the risks were not worth the high
Somehow I survived

Mistakes are made temporary with permanent consequences
I did too much holding the potential of harmful; the risks were not worth the high
Somehow I survived
At my worst I am a deflated pillow, memory foam mattress, lifeless exhaustion with the imprint of human, I am the still-living outer layer of a decaying earth, this being is a hollowed oak tree

There are leaves under my feet
The trampoline below us echoes our laughter into space
We are in our cheerleading uniforms jumping and jumping and
There are no boundaries in summer or winter or spring and autumn is our favorite
We **** on the roots of purple flowers because we can
Spend our 12 am sleepover restlessness and pocket change at the 711 down the street then
Sneak out to houses of boys who are too much older
We kiss them with juicy fruit mouths and sour tongues from joints we have just learned to smoke
We sacrifice lit paper to our ****** lips and run when our paranoia starts to catch up with us
The first time we drink, it is from our parents unlocked liquor cabinets, their trust for us more lenient than it should be
We swallow too much ***** mixed with orange pineapple juice and it tastes worse the second time around
We quickly learn to calculate how much is enough to send us spinning without emptying the contents of our stomachs
We stay up too late and too often because
There are too many movies to watch too many songs to hear too many memories to be made
I am 12 13 14 15 16
I am freckles and skinny and bitten cuticles and hot pink nails
I am poorly painted mascara and drugstore lipstick
I am football games and smoking bowls and crying from laughing too hard
I am ****** seasonal job and Halloween party and curved figure and first heartbreak
I am weekend adventure and aimless driving and snorting pills and loving strangers and touching bodies that aren't my own
I am reckless, we are
Too young to understand the consequences of our choices that will soon become mistakes
We make so many I forget to note them all down but
Haley's smile in a candid I use for my photography final freshman year is one I do not throw out
Instead I keep it locked in my mind, sitting against a black panel tucked away in my old bedroom
Hers was where we sat as we planned out our dreams for the future
Outlining our intentions on the ceiling above
Talking about who we wanted to kiss and then ****, we told each other too many details when we did
We wore bras that were too slow for the speed of our growing bodies
And black cat costumes to a party whose only theme was alcohol
We loved and got hurt and ate ice cream but mostly we loved
drinking, boys, smoking, cigarettes, each other
We were each other and still are but time and distance have both left tolls on our former relation
I am no longer the kid who never had a fear of heights
I don't jump as high as I used to when I do
I drink now with too much caution, I only take pills prescribed for me
We live on opposite coasts
And there are no leaves for me to step on where I am
Seasons do not change here and I am stuck on years I cannot forget
In a way we are still too young to understand most of what we don't but we still have time before we need to
It is winter again, then spring, then summer
My dear,
Autumn is approaching with patience and a slow speed
She is still our favorite.

I remember thinking that I'd finally got it right
Holding hands walking home that sunday night
Crushing burnt reds underneath out feet
The sweet smell of smoke that lingered on your cheek

And I loved you
I loved you so deep
And when you left and went away
I sunk, I was weak
But the love I had for you
Is now gone and faded
Just like the way we were
How we used to be back then.

I will never believe beauty
As it falls from your lips
Will convince myself
That I do not have any to begin with
That my eyes are too vacant
My smile too crooked
Face too dotted with freckle
I will never believe
That you find this mess
To be anything but catastrophe
I do not feel galaxy
I feel meteor crash
Do not feel
Like I am something to be admired
Feel too short
Too small
To be something you look up to
I will never believe
That my skin
Is blanket enough to wrap yourself in
I do not know warmth
Or soft
Only rough edges and cold
I will never believe
The words that stumble out of your mouth
And slip between your lips
But I will do my best
To catch them
With my own.

It's not the fact that you're older that should make you proud
But the fact that you're still here
You survived another year
Yes, I said survived
I say it with purpose
Life is not as easy as wake up, live, and go to sleep
Sometimes a day means dodging bullets
And there can be 365 days of playing straight target
Nobody knows how many obstacles you've jumped through to get here
So yes
You survived
You deserve more credit than a card
Or a cake
Or a reminder of your age
It doesn't matter how old you are
All that matters is that you're ******* alive
Profanity is acceptable in this situation due to the fact that
millions of people die every year and you aren't one of them
So be happy about that
Not the day of your birth, no
Not the once a year occurrence
Not the fact that the law says you can do something new
You should be happy that a shark didn't bite you or
that breathing is something you can still do
We've been celebrating the wrong things for too long
In a world that doesn't appreciate effort like it should,
Where all is unpredictable,
You are still here and
That
is definitely something to be happy
about.

Sometimes
I want to bang my head against brick
Until I feel something
And other times
I want to bury it in ice
So that
I don't have to feel anything
At all
I am wondering
When these highs
And lows
Will come to
A halt
And if feeling
Will ever be more
Than just
Black and white.

there are too many people writing about the moon tonight,
too many hearts lonely from the thought of her greatness,
wondering how it is possible
to love something that makes you feel so small,
that in comparison,
renders you insignificant.

this is how it was to love you.
this is how it is to still do.
to look up at a sky that is too big to notice you
to imagine a selfish lover as the vastness in which
too much attention is granted
this is how it was,
this is how it has always been,
this is how it is,
loving you.

there are too many people staying up late tonight
to watch the atmosphere unfold its secrets
open-eyed anticipating some kind of beauty unfrequented,
I will not be one of them.

waiting is a chore I no longer perform
willingly
the only galaxies I admire
are those I create.

there are too many people writing about the moon tonight,
and I have become one of them.

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.

I miss our whispered conversations
I miss your contagious laugh
And the way we never needed words to speak

Because the expressions on our faces
Did the talking for us
And the movements of our hands
Said more than we could ever possibly say

And while our lips spoke syntax
Our bodies spoke with language as well
They spoke for the forever-mute heart that so desperately wants to speak but cannot

If I could tell you that I miss you
I would tell you through my skin
I would touch you softly and let you remember

I’d run my hands through your hair
And let my fingers do the talking
Assign my palms to do the apologizing

I’d kiss you gently
Forcing my lips to move
But not to release any sound

If I could
I would let my body do the talking
*But a body can’t speak without a beating heart to listen.

Tonight
Is the first time I find myself feeling homesick
Feeling maybe I am not meant to be here
In this stretched out city that I have not yet learned to navigate
Feeling maybe these bright lights are too much to bare
Maybe it's the way the car I sat passenger in
Smelled of mommy's menthol
Maybe it's the way I have never missed the scent of newports until today
I am not one to turn back
After all i hated the cold
Hated the way the sky never seemed to come out from grey
And sun became such a commodity
That we'd sell ourselves just for the chance to see it
But a part of me misses rain
Misses the thunderstorms and lightning that would soothe me to sleep
Maybe I'm just weird in that way
Most wouldn't crave disaster like that
But I'm accustomed to ****** weather
I was raised on snow storms and below zero temperatures
Maybe this sunshine
And warm sand
Blue ocean
Is too good for my cold bred soul
I have always said that this is where i belonged
Where I am meant to be
What if we're not meant to be anywhere
That maybe we just are
Maybe we're just here because theres nowhere else to go
California
I have spent years writing love letters to you
Awaiting the day when we would be reunited indefinitely
I have always been one to romanticize
But maybe I built you up too high to be able to reach you
I hope we can be on the same level someday
I hope you can welcome me as much my heart welcomed you
Praised your beaches and mountains
Wanted nothing more than to learn every part of you
California
You have always been the center of my earth
Maybe always will be
I do not know you enough yet to say for sure
Have only tasted certain parts
Most of which were sweet
I am devoted to trying it all
I might never know
Where my place is
But California
It is an honor
To get to know you.

There will be times
When your touch is not enough
To wrestle the demons out of me
Times when your hands
Loving in their intention
Will feel foreign
Will feel too similar
To every pair that has hurt me in the past
Will bare resemblance
To every one that has been laid on me
Will remind me of every bad memory I had planned on forgetting
So many times before
There will be times
When your touch is too much
And the amount of affection
Will be far too warranted
For what I feel deserve
Will feel overwhelming
Will feel blanket on heatwave blood
Feel like more than my worth
Worth more time than what I merit
There will be times
When you will have to practice holding me
Rehearse me into routine
Remind me that safety lives in your arms
In your gentle grip
In your palms resting backbone
Calming shoulders speaking comfort
I am still learning to be still
Still learning to not flinch
At a man's touch
But my skin craves to be loved
Almost as much as my heart does
And trust
Is something I am just starting to give out
So in regards to me
And the way you approach my body
Please proceed
With caution.

Be cautious
Of the love you give out
And how much of yourself
You give away

There will always be someone
Who takes too much.

I am cleansing myself
Ridding my body of toxins
So that the next time
I open my mouth
You wont spill out of it.

I keep old movie stubs in my pockets
Polaroids
Concert tickets
Loose mints
Half pieces of gum
And the fortunes from cookies I ate at my favorite chinese restaurant
The one nestled between a church and a thrift shop
I keep an abundance
Of miscellaneous items
I like the reminders
Remembering
What was important to me at the time
And even though
I keep these things
I am not a hoarder
I am a collector
Of memories
Of moments
Of past that I refuse to let go of
I hold on
Much longer than I should
Fold every sweet second
Into the palm of my hand
And save them for later
Saving the sun for overcast days
Saving light
For nights when the darkness is too much
It is my memories
That keep me alive
But the same ones
Could very well
Be the death of me
I am a collector
Of both things good and bad
I hold on
Much longer than I should
But happiness
Does not have an expiration date
And there is always reason
To reflect
To smile
At a piece of paper
A picture
A note
Something
Anything
That once held significance
People change
Locations change
Life
Changes
But inanimate objects
Stand still even when time does not
I am a collector
And I am attempting to preserve
The fading.

I want so badly
To be able
To touch you
But you are water
While I am fire
And due to the laws
Of physics
We will never
Collide.

you are too familiar with yourself
with your face
your body
your beauty

your reflection is an image skewed from being seen by
your same eyes too often
your confidence is a locked box you keep in the back of
your closet
your smile is more uncomfortable than it is curling and
you've grown to hate the large of your laugh

you are blind to almost all that you are

but just imagine,
for a second
what you look like
to someone who is a stranger

you could be their textbook definition of ideal
their exact description of beautiful and
you wouldn't even know it

imagine for a moment
how your greatness might resonate
with someone who has never been close to that much at once

there have been people in your life who
have attempted to break you into smaller pieces
crush you from whole so you would be easier to swallow

there will always be some who will be unable to see your worth
others who wont be able to handle you
maybe they'll see too much and try to shrink you into less
with the hopes of becoming more themselves

you build yourself quieter each time that you do
you know how to shy away from the prescence of light and
you've settled comfortably in the shadow of day

but there is someone out there waiting to hear your loud
a blank canvas ready to be filled with all of your paint
you will be the exact shade they have spent their entire life trying to find

and when they do
you'll remember that there was a time
before you were taught to see dark
when you could see all of your colors clear
without trying

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.

This is not ordinary
I am used to falling
A few feet or so
But never the thousands of miles that now exist
You are so far
I reach out my hands and I cannot touch you
You are not there
Yet I pretend you are
Close my eyes
And imagine the rhythm of your breath
Syncing with mine
Picture your hands
Synching with mine
Our bodies
Poured together
A mess that we neglect to clean up
There is a certain comfort in the chaos
And I want to be in complete disarray
I want to empty myself into your arms
Want you to do the same
And together we will hold ourselves intact
But you are so far
I cannot pick up your pieces when they fall
My hands do not stretch the distance
And there is so much between us
But if I ever get the chance
If this space ever collapses
If it ever box-folds itself into disappearance
If we ever come close
And you want me to,
I will love you
And I will love you
Completely.

It takes a certain kind of person
With a certain kind of sickness
To be able to break others
So unapologetically

Congratulations.

You've made mistakes
Many, you know this.
Lived close enough to the edge to
feel the thrill of it but just far enough to
not fall off, you're strategic.
But the paint on the walls you've been building up is
starting to chip and sometimes you forget to laugh at
things you're supposed to
You don't listen with detail often and
when you do, you forget to care.
Apathy is not pretty on you but
neither is desperation.
You remember when you wanted to
save yourself for the right one and
now it's funny to think about how
your list is too long to keep track and
you can no longer count your reckless on your fingers
There's a boy who brings you sunflowers and
before you can tell him he's too good for you,
you hurt him,
unintentionally.
You could say sorry but there's no correct apology for
I can't love you.
There's no believable way to say
I don't deserve you or
don't know how to or
Convince a hopeless romantic that
you're really just pathetic.

You're drifting off the road in your dreams but
The car is still intact the next morning
During the day you think about all of the sleep you didn't get
You couldn't get, you're not sure when rest became
a chore instead of a reward.
Your lonely has turned into habit and
the smell of gasoline is more appealing than perfume
Sometimes you don't appreciate things you should and
that's just normal routine.
But you're tired most days and it has become
a purposeful cycle of
Consciously messing up to fix it later,
the trouble keeps you busy,
The ache is constant but
it keeps you full.
You used to collect records that
now collect dust sitting in a room
in a house that no one really lives in,
Someone does, yes, but only quietly.
There is a doe-eyed girl who has
drowned in your search for passion,
You're guilty for crimes you didn't mean to
commit, mostly careless in intention and
you never meant to hurt anyone but yourself.
Your arms are wide but you're shaking and
there are so many questions that
you'll never have answered.

What happens when your fingers break
from reaching out too much?
What do you do when you've run out of
bones to crack?
Will your spine still stretch after you've bent backwards
so many times?
How can you possibly love someone
when you don't know how to yourself?
You're learning, you swear.
Trying to understand that appreciation
doesn't directly translate to narcissm, that
You don't always have to feel bad for
what isn't your fault.
You've made mistakes,
many, you know this.
Move farther away from the cliff,
don't hold your breath, this is life,
my dear,
you know this.
You'll be okay,
You know this.

I'm not happy
Nor am I angry
I am somewhere in between
But I am not content

I miss the happiness I had
Back when we first met
Those first few months
When everything was exciting

A week without you
Felt like an eternity
And we wanted so badly
To just pause time

But now when we're together
Time drags on
And you always leave
Before midnight

And when we argue
There's no rush of adrenaline
No intensity
Just a dull ache

I wish things
Weren't so comfortable
To the point where nothing
Is the same as everything

I used to be your everything
But now i feel as if
I am nothing
And I am not content.

I fuel my lungs with oxygen
Work them with cardio
And then destroy them with cigarettes
I am a walking,
Talking,
And somehow still breathing,
Contradiction.

I swear that in another life I was a crow. A bird of black feathers and mystery, cawing at the wind and nesting myself high above civilization. I think crows are beautiful. Beautiful like the blood moon lunar eclipse being the first of the year, beautiful like rain water slapping the windows of a glass house, beautiful like the way veins insist on being pointed out through pale skin, I think beauty is in perspective. When people think of crows, they think of bad luck, evil, and death, these are the convictions that cultural mythology instilled upon us. Poe once wrote the raven to symbolize mournful and never ending remembrance, the bird being a reminder to one's desent into madness, he forgot to mention the magic that these creatures maintain. What spells evil to some is beauty to another. Anything can be beautiful if you look at it the right way and we so often look at things incorrectly. Eyes half opened, blinded by some form of unnatural light, we so often look at things with skewed perspective. We are often unable to bend our reality in order to see something that we dont want to believe in. Why do we look at blackbirds as a symbol of fear and white doves as free and pure? And why is white and pure always somehow perceived as better? Crows may be dark, but make no mistake, they are not hollow. These birds are known to be some of the most intelligent animals on this earth yet we disregard them based on history and how they look, tell me, does this say anything about our society? How we are so easily willing to put aside something because they are not the typical definition of beauty? How often do we not take the time to recognize the charm that lays within difference? Difference is beauty. Charm is mystery. I think that crows are charming. Crows to me, are the four leaf clover, the rabbits foot attached to a key ring, crows manage to bring me a sense of comfort and beauty, I think crows are beautiful. I say that in a past life I was one. Too many times have I been followed by them, hearing there echoes in trees, crows always seem to find a way to come to me, even in my darkness and therefore i choose to percieve them as light. Life is all about perspective. So what most see as ugly, I choose to percieve as beauty. I swear I was a crow in a life before this one. But for now i am a girl. A human. And as for the future? Nevermore.

Most nights I cannot sleep
There is no amount of melatonin that could shut my eyes just enough to keep them from breaking back open
Nothing that will wipe my memory clean enough for me to dream on a blank canvas
Most nights I am too taunted by past to imagine the future
Spend the time between laying down and deep sleep
Trying to open every door that was left unlocked
Retracing steps that are far too buried to be seen
Most nights I cannot sleep
Cannot bare to remember every moment I used to wish I'd never forget
Held on to seconds like they would somehow stay
I learned that most people don't
And am so easily haunted by visions of those who didn't
You were the first to leave me breathless and wondering
Hands filled with shards of glass that I wanted to give back to you
Thought maybe you'd come back if you knew how much it hurt to have you leave
I cannot sleep
There are monsters in my closet
Most nights I can drown out their noise
With the volume of late night tv and sitcoms with laugh tracks
But sometimes my thoughts are too loud for even my own head
See the thing is
The monsters in my closet
Do not have multiple eyes and green skin
They wear your smile and smell of marlborro reds
My cigarette of choice
So comforting
That it almost makes me forget that you're not next to me
That you left a long time ago
Said the only reason you stayed in the first place is because you didn't know
How to tell me that I meant nothing to you
Didn't know how to put out a fire started from a match you lit yourself
Never knew how to take the blame for your own mistakes
When you totalled your brand new car on the side of the highway and blamed it on the cracks in the road
You can not rush into things
Speed towards them 80 miles per hour
And then not take account for their injuries
At times I wish you would have left me with bruises and a ****** nose
I've learned physical wounds are a lot easier to explain
It's hard to understand what cannot be seen
I haven't seen you in a year
Do not know where you are now
Or what you do with your time
I don't know if you still smoke
Or if you listen to the same type of music
To be honest
I can't even remember the sound of your laugh
But I do remember most of what you were
When I thought I loved you
Most nights I cannot sleep
But I have reached the point
Where you are no longer in my days
In fact you only show up
Only come out
Only are visible
When the lights are off
And It is dark.

My days
Would be so much better
If they ended
In your arms.

Dear depression,
When did you become pretty?
For as long as I have known you
You have never been anything more than
Thorns on sticks thrown in my way
And sharp rocks underneath my bare feet after I have built up the courage to walk alone
At times you have left me ****** with
Bruises and scars that wrap around my body like barbed wire
You have never been anything more than a metal fence amidst a beautiful garden
You have never been anything more
Than ugly
So I wonder who
Could have possibly thought you worthy enough
To place you on a pedestal
And paint makeup on a face that has damaged so many
I wonder how
Someone
Somewhere
Thought you good enough
To make you into a novel
When you are anything but romantic
How anyone
Could ever find you desirable enough
To want to take you on a date
When all you do is lurk in the shadows behind lovers
You are nothing but
Unwanted
So whoever it is that decided
That you deserve a spotlight
When all you've ever done is inflict darkness
Clearly
Has never met you
Dear depression
Society might have made you feel pretty
But one thing I can promise
Is that you will never be
Prettier than me.

My drawers don't shut completely. My socks are everywhere. I am wearing jeans that are too blue. I have been staying up late at night just to think more. The gym is just a few feet too far to push myself to. I'm surprised these jeans still fit. My lips are chapped from the winter which makes no sense considering I live in California. There is a rash on my chest that won't go away. I haven't written a decent poem in weeks. Most of them just turn into ramblings and lists of all of things I should be but am not. There are a lot of things I want to be but am not. I get along just fine for the most part. I get by for the majority of the time. I think I’m doing alright. I'm a mess to say the least.

Nobody ever speaks of
The sadness that can be felt
In your bones
The kind that can be
Encompassed
By your whole being
Nobody ever tells you
How to manage
Feeling like a stranger in your own body
Sometimes
I am a stranger to my own body
Depersonalization
Is a term that
I have come to know all too well
I have come to know
What it's like
To watch life happen
From a distance
To feel
Persistant and constant
Dissociation
Nobody ever told me
About the depression
That can take over your soul
While simultaneously
Forcing you
To watch it happen
Without any ability to stop it
Sometimes I feel as if
I can't feel anything at all
And that in itself
Is truly terrifying
But I am trying my hardest
To take hold of the steering wheel
I refuse
To let it take control
In the past I have
Locked all of the doors to myself
Thinking that
If I was the only inhabitant
Than nothing could get to me
But lately
I've realized
That letting people in
Will not be the downfall of myself
Lately
I've realized
That opening up
Is the key
To finding answers
Is the key
To finding help.

My depression
Wears a leather jacket
Smokes a cigarette against an alley wall
And asks me to dance with him
His voice is a scratchy mess of desire and impulse
His mouth is fresh of whiskey and regret
He extends a thin pale arm
And asks me to dance
Most times
I decline
Do my best to refuse politely
Even tango with mania instead
As an attempt to avoid him
But there is so much temptation
In darkness
And sometimes
It is hard to tell the difference
Between light and pitch black
Between white noise and screams
My depression
Whispers to me with heavy breath
Calls me baby girl
Tells me
That he can love me so well
Reminds me
That no one else will
Offers me rough hands
Convinces me
That they are the only ones left open
I do my best to resist
But almost always end up giving in
Eventually letting him hold me
Rock me back and forth
His arms feeling more haunted than house, than home
I watch
As he replaces the blue in my eyes with empty
Turns my occupied body into vacancy
He strokes my hair
And in my ear, says unworthy
Paints me ugly
Tells me that I am not pretty
And that nobody will ever want somebody like me
But that he does
So why shouldn't I love him back
Give all of myself completely
I think of all the ways he will treat me
Wonder if he is going to hurt me again
Know that he is
He will wrap my wrists into bleeding when I am lonely
Fill my mind with nightmare when I can't sleep
It is only after saying yes to his proposal
That I realize I do not want any part of this
My depression
Is the hardest lover to break up with
And every time I keep coming back
I always come back
My depression
Is the train I cannot step off of
I am too afraid of letting go
All of the paths intersect together
And the route is bound for destruction
It is unhealthy
To love something so volatile
But the clawing turns into comfort at night
And I do not know
How to sink my nails into something other than skin
My depression
Smokes a cigarette
And I watch the ash fall to the ground
As I fall to the ground
Like a bad habit that is all too familiar
My depression
Is nicotine
My depression
Is alcohol
My depression
Is an addiction
I keep coming back.

I'd like to think
That just the taste of your lips
Could wash out every name
That's been on my tongue
I'd like to think
That mine could do the same
For you
But the truth is
I am not whole enough
To be able to fill your vacancy
The truth is
You deserve greater
And so much more
Than what I have to offer
You deserve a girl who won't cry
The first time you make love to her
Someone who isn't broken
Who isn't tainted by past
Someone who isn't scraped from rough hands
Who isn't built of memories and nightmares
You deserve someone who can love without fear
And give you everything
But I am not that someone
I will tremble in your arms no matter how honest they are
At night I will be restless and inconsolable
When the weight of the world is too heavy
I will collapse underneath it
I am not strong
I sometimes struggle in keeping myself intact
And I am filled to the rim with emptiness
You deserve so much more
Than what I can give
But I am capable of loving
Harder than most
I will pour out every last part of myself
Just to give you something to hold
I may not be
What you deserve
But I can try
My best.

A messy heart of clutter and loose change and lone socks,
I am a ceremony of disappearing objects.

Distance
Does not make the heart grown fonder
It rips it out
And swallows it whole.