My revelation is clear now.
I got rythym. Now.
See.
                                            Seven days to an orbit.
                                            Or mere cochance.
                                            Seems like a weekend thing too.
****
                                           Inspiration seems to kick off her
                                           Frilly lace and slides quietly under satin.
                                          Heat check. Why?
Perception is reality no?
Saturation and release ?
Skull duggery.
Mind miner.


Alchemist at work.
Iron pirate. ?

At any rate it feels like 7 is my lucky #.
Ahh. Sleep dep.?
Mayhap.

I am
The boy who walks with his head down low
Blocking the white static that leaks from their mouths with the sounds I create with my mind.
I never look people in the eye not because I am afraid but because if they look into mine they will see all the secrets and all the pain. Shadows of my past, a past not worth mentioning.

I am
The girl who stares at her reflection and only sees the imperfection hanging from her sides.
I cover my arms with black sweaters  to hide the rough edges, the roads that will lead to a damaged heart.
I stare at the ceiling and see a world beyond my reach and the beatings of reality come and bruise my skin.

I am
The child who looks up to the one's who are "right" and mimic them, I am their puppet.
I see the world with colors.
The word "why" is always on the tip of my tongue always wanting to come out
like some popper.
I am too young to know what the world is really like so I stay safe in the comforts of my imagination.

I am
the stranger who longs to be heard but can never make a sound. My voice is a series of silent syllables.

I am.....

How are you?
[no I'm not. I'm not. Everything is falling apart] Great!

Hi!
[I need to hide. hide before my seams split open] What's new?

How was your day?
[frustrating. brick walls. ice daggers. you name it. I need a tall building] Not too bad, yours?

How are you feeling?
[shattered. please don't...I can't] Sleepy, a little.


[bursting out. spilling. tidal wave of complete wrongness. ribs rattling around uncontrollable feelings. rage. throat tight. calves twinging. head spinning] Smile!

Could you-
do you?
really desire this knowledge?

Unwanted, unwarranted, personally, so I won't regift.
I'm not sure your ears  really want the weight of
it, anyway.

Love.  

Love is
awful/wonderful/
terrifying/beautiful/
frustrating/amazing/
foreign.

It's amazing how something that you've never had
can leave such an empty feeling inside you.
I was made with an empty space in the middle of my heart.
Meant to be filled with someone's "I'll love you forever."
There must have been a mishap in the factory, though,
because there seems to be no complimentary piece.

I have a mantra I go through, a set of excuses I remind myself of
whenever a chance is lost, an opportunity runs sour. '
I call them "The Three Things I Know To Be True About Love."
             Not interested? Someday he will be
             Isn't into relationships? Someday he will be
             Isn't attracted to you? Someday he will be

Well, I can't say I know the third part to be true.

I know what you're thinking.
Sad, whiny fat kid complaining about something he caused himself.
Look, I know what I look like. I know what it allows me in life.
To be fair, it is my own fault. I've let myself stretch,
outgrowing my skin and confidence till they're threatening to burst.

I know it would be hard to look at me and say "I love you."
I never have been able to do it.
I think if I heard it just once, though, I'd be satisfied.
Just to give me the sensation having the words
pass through me, enveloping my insides
with warmth, hope, promise.

I'm not asking you to mean it. I couldn't ask you for that.
Even though I'd know of their false implications.
I have always been a fan of playing pretend.

I know that I'm young,
and that I haven't been far outside of the
cornfield fence that has enclosed me for 19 years.
But patience has never been a virtue I've held.

I'm just someone who is desperately tired of "somedays."
All I'm asking for is a "today."

I dare not die, no,
    I simply cannot write anything

2:35am. You say,
“Lets go for a drive
through the galaxy.”
Your car turns into a spacecraft
as we fly through the blackness.
You take me on a journey among the stars.
The streetlamps and stoplights
become colorful particles of our galaxy,
and the cars around us
transform into the UFO’s
we can only read about.
You show me the best-kept secrets
that our vast ocean in the sky holds,
from the eyes in envy.
Your kiss
sends me into the mysteries of black holes
and the awe of a supernova.
3:12am I whisper,
“Can we sleep upon the radiance of the moon?”
and you respond,
“Yes, and tomorrow after breakfast
I will take you to swim in the turquoise blue of the sea.”
You take me everywhere
and back again with the simplest of actions.
You do this to me…

I am independent and sentient
and patience has never been my virtue
expectations only lead me to hurt you
because with a broken heart
my hairs raise
my eyes ablaze
and my edges sharp
so as you attempt
to clean up your mess
you cut your
pretty face
on the jagged shape
of my  e m p t i n e s s