She breathes fire
from the depths of her soul,
She shouts victory
from lungs black as coal,
Her nostrils flare
and her eyes, a chilling stare.
She breaths fire,
for all those who admire.

She cracks her wings
and snaps her tail
to the awe of kings
always without fail.

her stomach rumbles
low and deep
making theirs
humble and meak.

Her heart burns like embers
her bones like sturdy trees,
a name no one remembers
that once made armies flee

Fire comes out like a spout
from her mouth
from her throat
from her heart and soul,
fire comes out
and without a doubt
fire will take its toll.

She breathes in smoke,
and kindles the flame,
body dragging low
head to the ground
but eyes to the sky,

She breathes fire to the earth,
and lets the ashes fall to heaven.

I remember waking up very early the next morning,
maybe three hours after I fell asleep on the bathroom floor.

I tiptoed through the house, careful not to wake anybody up,
even the guy who kept telling you to drink
even though you very kindly asked him to stop.

I'm not sure if you ended up drinking,
I forgot most of what happened that night,
but I remember shouting from the tire swing
that I loved you and that I loved you
and that I loved you.

I found where you were sleeping,
relieved to find no body next to yours,
and calmly placed a hand on your forehead.
You stirred, before gently grabbing my hand as it pulled away.

Eyes still closed,
you asked me how I felt.

I feel okay, nothing appears to be broken.

You said nothing and went back to sleep.
I said nothing and sat there for a long while.
I watched your chest rise and fall with each breathe,
and I loved you and I loved you and I loved you.

After a time I stepped outside to smoke a thought,
and the thought I smoked was not of you or of the night before
but of my mother.
She told me,
after I brought home my first date, two months into my freshmen year of high school,
that just because I desire somebody's love,
does not mean I deserve it.

I loved you and I loved you and I loved you
but I did not deserve your love.

Stumbling into the yard,
still blinded by electric light.
I look to the sky,
as so many heroes I've read of  have done,
and try to understand what I'm supposed to see.

I see a set of stars,
bright,
they're pretty,
but that's all I can think of to say.

My neck hurts as I crane to look at the sky,
but I persist.
What am I supposed to be seeing?
this mass universe beyond our atmosphere,
I see nothing but a few stars
that all look like they're Orion's Belt.

The wind rustles,
I feel like it's telling me something,
but what?

A few more stars appear,
I didn't notice them.
more and more and more
as my eyes come to an understanding with the night
and I see it.
The sky is bursting with those lights-
but I still wonder what to think.

Should I feel inspired?
motivated?
awed?
puny?
insignificant ?
powerful?

what is it so many great minds
have seen in the sky
that eludes itself from me?

I never think too deeply about anything,
couldn't, even if I tried.
So I just stand with an aching neck
acknowledging their beauty.

I search and search the sky,
neck becoming stiff,
I see small stars lightly throbbing,
and can only think of how this light
is proof of the stars death.
and then I see it,
a shooting star.
It hits me, it hits me all at once.
My first shooting star.
Something about it,
so bold
and swift
and striking,
there for a moment
and gone before I can blink.

Something about it lifted a weight.
I've always wanted to see one,
and now I have
and I felt something.
I'm not sure what,
but it was definitely something.

Feeling satisfied I go back into my room
and blind myself with yellow and blue light.
I have no idea what I got out of staring into the sky for thirty minutes,
I felt something but I know not what.
I only know that I feel like it helped me in a way,
like the sky had talked to my soul,
like I had been keeping my soul caged up like a bird
when it wanted to fly,
it wanted to say hello to the sky.
I'm not sure how looking to the stars that night helped me,
it just did.

I'm going to look at the stars more often,
as much as I can.
Maybe someday I'll find what so many others have found.
Whether it only ever lets my soul fly
or grants me so much more,
I think we should all look to the sky more often.
In times of joy, or sadness, or tragedy,
look to the sky, day or night,
breath it in
and let your soul fly,
for you might find something more.

It has been so long
Too long
It's only been 2 months
But that time has caused me to be
Oh so lonely

And I've only known you for 4 days
And in that time
You have filled the hole that he left

I don't know
How tall you are
How old you are
What the color of your eyes are
What the color of your hair is
If you're right or left handed
If you're going to school

All I do know
Is that you made me laugh as soon as you spoke
That you wanted to know my name as soon as I spoke
Is that you want to know me better
That you would choose Beyonce over Taylor Swift any day

I don't want you
Believe me, I don't love you
But you have filled a hole
With the pings and beeps
With the skype telephone calls
With your jokes
With your laugh

You have filled a hole

I just want to know you better now

I work
I work for every I have ever wanted
I work 6 hours after school every day
I work every weekend
I work till I have blisters on my hands and feet

My hands are dry,
calloused, but strong

I'm sore,
but stronger

I may not know sleep and luxury like you
I may not know what its like to be finacially taken care of
but I know a different luxury

I know the luxury of freedom
the freedom to make my own money
my own choices
I know I can fall back on my strength

You have to rely on daddy's money
I rely on myself and my stamina

One day when you don't have daddy's money
and you wake up to the real world

I will be sitting here with
my saving
my home
my happy life
laughing because while I was working
you were dicking around
not knowing hard work

Everything about you is wonderful to me.
Everything.
I want to know everything about you,
I want to know what the kids called you in 4th grade on the playground
I want to know who your first boyfriend was and what your dad wanted to do when he broke your heart
I want to know who your favorite 80's synthopop band is
I want to know what you think of when you wake up at 4:26 in the morning with a stiff neck
I want to know what color you wish your softest skirt was
and I want to buy it for you.
I want to pick every single flower on earth and fill your arms with them.

I want to hear your voice when you're sick in bed
and I want to know what kind of tea to bring you
I want to know what movie you watch when you can't do it anymore
because that boy in your history class wouldn't stop calling you that word and ******* it you are not that word but this movie makes you feel better and it always has (it did in 4th grade when they called you that name on the playground)

I want to know which side of your face you prefer to have photographed
I want to know who you pray for
and if you think anybody is listening.

I want to know what your mother wanted to name you before your father convinced her otherwise because "Honey, do you really want our daughter to grow up being called that and have her know that we are responsible?"

I want to know if you like the feel of cold hardwood floor on your feet in the morning or the feel of carpet when you first take your rain boots and socks off after stomping puddles.

******* it, I want to know everything about you
so I can love every single one of those things with an intensity
the devout Christian envies.

What could be more perfect than rain?
What could be more beautiful?

It falls and brings life to wherever it falls.
It breathes life into this lifeless landscape
and allows it to breathe.

Rain is a gift from God
and I am sorry for those
who do not drop to their knees
and thank their god for rain.
Thank nature for rain,
thank the universe,
but you have to be thankful.

Rain refreshes,
and it soothes
and it calms
and I cannot think of anything
more perfect than the rain.

April showers bring May flowers
and that is beautiful.

The only way to really know me,
is to read my poetry.
I've only ever shown my poetry to the internet,
making sure nobody knew who I was,
until I met a boy who read my poetry,
and loved it
and helped me with my problems
and turns out I knew him in reality.
He's a ******* now but that doesn't matter.

I then let someone else see it,
someone I saw in person daily,
that was a big step as I wasn't entirely trusting but-
I think my trust, my faith has been betrayed
As then someone else I knew followed me,
and then someone else,
and then someone else.

No, no,
all these poems I have saved as drafts
because I'm scared-
because I see them in reality
because it's all too much for me.
So it can't go on.

Every now and then,
I'll post a poem or two,
but nothing too incriminating.
But other than that,
this is my farewell.
It hurts because there are poems on here I really do like
but I let one person see my account
and from there too many people
followed me,
too many people who know my name
and face.
that's unacceptable,
I've never wanted that.
They can't know my story,
I don't trust people like that,
people who can touch my skin.

So that's it,
Goodbye Fish and all the poems I wrote here,
goodbye your kind words and likes and follows.
Thank you for taking the time to read my words,
all you lovely strangers.

Farewell, Hello Poetry.

She has a problem with people
she struggles to speak out in public
she doesn't feel confident

but she doesn't realize how confident she is
she's confident when she dances
she's confident when she makes jokes
she's confident in her knowledge
she's confident in her writing

I want her strength
I want the strength of her words
the strength of her beauty
and the strength of her movement

I want to be like her
I want her hair
I want her skin
I want her clothes

I want her soul

I know she doesn't feel beautiful
but she's a porcelain doll
her skin is perfect and white
and her hair is one of a mermaid's

She hides under her white feathers
so others won't see her
but there are those that see her shine
the way the glint comes of her wings

When she does come out of her cave
she lights up the space around her
she soars through the air and the world stops
her beauty is beyond me and I feel I'm the only one who knows

She is a swan