another night spent in the dark
letting the emotions wash over me
never quite settling as the alcohol
warms my body
but not enough.

i think about your deep hazel eyes and how they change
but no matter how much i pay attention i can't find the pattern
green is for ?
brown is for ?
does somewhere in between mean you're fond of me again?

i try to find meaning in meaningless things
chance encounters become constellations
and numbers of flowers become purposeful

Don’t waste this life,

            consumed by what might have been.

Hey there, woah there
well I'd just like to
take this fine opportunity
to tell you that I assure you,
my good sir, that I don't
give one-eighth of a
one-hundredth of a
flying ****.

Icy breeze
whipping through
my freshly curled hair,
goose bump covered arms
holding on to creaking chains
as I swing,
with her,
under the night sky
salted with stars
and bright planets
and oh look,
over there is the Little Dipper

Angel.
She was just that
shaggy golden locks
to provide warmth when we cuddled.
She was old and kind
and couldn't love me more.
I slept with her, cuddled and happy
behind the couch
while my sister played violin
and my brother piano to accompany.
I told you stories and went on adventures
and loved you dearly,
but soon you couldn't step into the tub for a wash.
behind the couch was all you were,
It wasn't your fault
it was ours
it was his,
for beating you like he beat us
and when you tripped and fell on the stairs
he wouldn't let you go to the vet
he wouldn't let us fix you..
believe me
if we had the money we would have.
But soon too soon
you were old and broken
and-
I was too little to remember your death.


His name was Shadow,
but he was quite the opposite.
His fur captured all the sun's rays
and kept them to brighten my day.
It was the first time
they let me choose the family pet
and of all the happy golden puppies
that jumped and barked up against us
I had only eyes for the pup
who sat shivering in the corner.
I took that pup home and I loved him.
He was my best friend
and we played for hours and hours
but maybe I shouldn't have picked the pup
that wasn't like all the others.
All the dog training classes in the world
couldn't fix him
they told us that,
it broke my heart, to see him snap.
I was the only one he let near him,
I did my best to play with him
to run around the yard with him,
but as we did
my legs shook
knowing I might have to run for my life.
He left me with bites
and bruises
and always ripped my legs apart
but I loved him anyhow.
I tried and tried
but soon he was too violent
and even I couldn't run about the yard with him.
I just saw a golden slobbery mess
fighting himself
and growling at the glass door.
They took him away, and
I wasn't allowed to be there
when they put him down.

Daisy.
She ran circles around us
again and again
doing what she was bred to do
heard us like cattle
but the small puppy quickly learned
she didn't have to heard us.
She once fit in the palm of my hand
and soon she was too heavy to lift.
Energetic and wild
she shook with excitement at every sound
she loved us with all her heart
and protected us
but he was mean to her too
and smacked her
and hurt her
and made her cower in fear,
she always loved us though
and when it came to separate
I took her with me,
and he couldn't hit her anymore.
we loved and laughed and played
and she howled with triumph
whenever we cheered.
We had to remember though,
she was his dog too.
We didn't have time to take her on long happy walks
so we didn't mind lending her out
and she loved those hikes
she came back exhausted and happy
and
it was a shock to my system
I remember I didn't cry
when they came back without her one time,
he had jumped in the river after her
and my brother went farther down to catch her when she came up.
but darling Daisy didn't come up
no she was never found
the rapids took her rapidly and
I wasn't there
when she drowned.


Arden.
I found him
in the rain
barely moving
laying in the middle of a road
I got him to the side
and I laid soaking wet comforting the whimpering wild thing.
Matted, messy, muddy
a giant wolf
prestigious and valiant.
I took him home and wrapped him in a blanket
and loved him more than anything ever.
I was in highschool and he was big enough to ride
I'd never seen a wolf so big.
I found out he was abused
and kept in a white trash "home"
and he was so sick the darling couldn't howl.
We watched TV and ate chicken soup together,
until he was well enough to eat solids.
He slept in my room in my bed
and we laid out under the stars
for he had become my best friend
the minute I laid eyes on him.
When his voice healed
he howled to the moon all night,
and wolves in the distance replied.
Living near a forrest I couldn't wait for him to heal
to be able to run
and go up and down the stairs
so we could always be-
but
I'm not with him.
So I don't know if he's alive or dead.
many things happened
and his abusive owner called the police
they wouldn't give it back
but by law
we couldn't keep him.
My valiant wolf
who howled all day
until I came home
was taken far away.
I was there when we gave him up,
happy ***** stunning creature
until a stranger took him on a leash and led him to a room of scary cages
and he thrashed and howled and ran towards me
and you could hear his melodic howls after the door was closed
I left to cry in the car
because death didn't take my friend
he didn't have to go
but we went anyways.
I pray he's alive.
but if he has passed
I know he's in heaven.
I'm agnostic
but I still know he would be in heaven.
Because dogs deserve that.
all dogs.

When I wear makeup
I feel unstoppable
courageous
beautiful.
so beautiful.

but I don't mean regular makeup,
mascara lipstick eyeliner blush etc,
I mean the kind that takes hours to apply,
transforming myself into hit characters
ghastly ghouls
alien creatures
minotaurs
ziggy stardust
I mean painting myself
with all the theatricality I can afford.

I feel like I can breath when I wear my makeup,
I feel okay and calm and like nothing can touch me
above all else I feel safe.
so safe
with that paint,
everybody's looking at the makeup
instead of me,
they admire and compliment the mask I've crafted
and it makes me happy to know
they can't see my plain pale face underneath,
the outrageous conception
has formed a shield
allowing me to step out in public
without being afraid to exist.

when I wear my makeup
I'm allowed to be whomever I please
and mingle-talk freely with all I want,
my makeup lets me be like everyone else.

The only downside is that not every week is spirit week,
my gentle skin is too irritated by even the most
hyper-allergenic makeup and acne protrudes
and at the end of it all I still have to wash it off,
watch my happy colors go down the sink drain,
the mask doesn't last forever,
and I'm left standing there the next day,
without my makeup
without my shield
and I feel so naked,
I feel incomplete and scared.

I wish every week was spirit week,
and that my skin was tough,
so that I could paint my face every day
              so I wouldn't have to be afraid.