My tears are stuck in the ducts of my eyes,
my words are stuck in the back of my throat.
Come here pretty baby, give me a hand,
you set me free, like I am floating above
the cold, wet sand.

When I am with you,
and when I am not,
I can feel your soul radiate,
your smile says a lot.

Who wouldn't be struck
from the beauty you possess,
the light that you illuminate
touches my skin like a soft caress.

My tears are stuck in the ducts of my eyes,
my words are stuck in the back of my throat.
Come here precious angel, give me a hand,
tonight I need you to help me stay afloat.

I could write you day after day,
week after week,
month after month,
but nothing compares to the scent
of your skin when I am holding you
in my arms,
and a tiny envelope with words written
in my handwriting,
addressed to your house,
with your name scrolled on the top,
will never be enough for me,
because that is only a smile from your lips,
that touches your eyes,
and though I may send these letters to
you for that sole purpose,
I still do not get to see it happen,
and you are still not wrapped up in my arms.

Every passing second
makes me miss you
more and more.

Every passing second
makes me love you
more and more.

I have learned that no matter
how many times I say 'I miss you',
you can't come home any sooner.

If love is a game,
then someone will
be the winner and
someone will be
the loser.
A tie game?
Now that's love.

I miss you so much,
it physically pains me
to not be able to talk to you.

It is as if an astronaut came along
and snatched all of the stars out of
the night sky, and the moon
is left to weep and cry.

It is as if the fisherman caught
all the fish in the sea,
and the ocean's only purpose
left is to wash up on the beach.

It is as if a lumberjack took an axe
to each tree,
and the earth can no longer breathe.

The beauty taken selfishly to be enjoyed,
leaves the viewer endlessly craving it's return.

I miss you,
come back to me,
I'll be here waiting,
painfully, patiently for you to come home.

Let's build a fort out
of pillows and blankets
and holey sheets and stuffed
animals and couch cushions.

Let's go climb some trees
and jump in a strangers
pond with all of our clothes
still on.

Let's go catch the fireflies
in the middle of an open
field on the  hottest
night in July.

Let's dance around campfires
and drink until we fall over
into the grass.

Let's fall asleep in the dewy
green as we look up at the
stars trying to figure out our future.

Let's stay this way forever,
let's never grow old,
let's grow young together.

There is a deep sadness building
up inside this chest.

The cavity protecting this weak
heart is caving in.

This skull is cracking from the
bitter thoughts that run endlessly
through this brain.

These fingers are growing cold
from the lack of warmth they
find when they reach out to
find nothing waiting.

This stomach churns at the
thought of you never being
here.

These legs grow restless when
they only long to run to you.

These lips quiver when they
have no chance of speaking
with you.

These lungs can't breathe
without your breath
entering my mouth.

How will this body survive,
if it does not have you near?

I asked you not to go,
and now you've asked me to stay.
I couldn't even imagine going away.

Like always,
I think it's all in my head.
Why would this time be
any different than the others?

Louis Vuitton brown,
Chanel black,
Classic McQueen,
i'm surrounded by such luxuries.

If I lost it all,
i'd be alright,
I really don't need to be in the spotlight.

I hate this poem.

I want to write a poem,
but I don't know what to say,
just that you won't be able to
talk to me today.

So I send you all my love,
and the happiest of thoughts,
and hope this day is good for you,
because it is my heart that
you have caught.

I know you are
dreaming the
sweetest dreams
tonight, and I'd
like to think it's
because of me.

Tonight we talked
about the stars and
the heavens and the
future.

My future. You wanted
to know. You asked me
to tell you more.

I told you everything I
want. You don't know it,
but I know that's what you
want too.

The stars aligned, and we
were brought together,
and I think you are
realizing that now.

I think you're thinking,
*'This looks a lot like fate.'

I don't want you to go,
I want you to stay,
I don't want you to be so far away.

Your flight's taking off,
in just a few days,
and then you will be in San Francisco Bay.

I told you I'd send you
little reminders throughout the day,
just in case your smile fades.

I don't want you to go,
I want you to stay.

I do not know why,
but I have this crazy
urge to just leave her.

I do not know why,
but I have become
scared to talk to her.

I do not know why,
but my thoughts on
the situation have changed.

I have become fearful of
what our future could
look like,
and I don't know why.

Can someone please help me?
I have this girl here.
She is bleeding right from
the heart.
I can't seem to find a band-aid
big enough to stop the blood
from pouring out of her chest.
She is screaming. Please help me.
I need to make her better.
Someone please, tell me which
bandage to use. Someone please,
get me the first aid kit.
Please help me fix this girl.
Please.

I cannot sleep
because I have a feeling.
I have not had this feeling
since the last time someone
loved me too. This
crazy feeling under my
belly button. My
insides are tingling. My
core is reacting. Something
has changed. The vibes
have shifted. From my
core comes the sensation
pouring into the rest of my
body through these veins.
Something has changed.
This change is good.

My tears are the
drops of saltwater,
splashed onto seashells
that wait to be dragged back
into the ocean, but the tide
always fall short.

My cries are the
winds, whistling through
cracks and drowning out
the children's laughter on
the cool summer day.

My fingers are the crustaceans,
roaming the beach, looking for
comfort, but only finding themselves
preyed upon by the enemy.

Her eyes.
Her eyes are the sky,
shifting from dark to light.
Confused, broken, hurt.
Happy, laughable, loving.

Her words.
Her words are the lightening,
striking down; such
beautiful destruction.

And her laugh.
Her laugh is the music
that filters down to the beach
from the pier, just enough to
make you feel like you're home.

I want to feel broken,
broken by you.
Not because you're not
mine, but because you are
mine. In the
middle of a huge fight.
Screaming, slamming doors,
chasing after each other
fighting. Fighting so long
and so hard that we no
longer remember the reason
for starting the fight. Or
who started the fight. I
want to hurt because of that.
And then, amidst all the fighting,
we do realize that we don't remember
why the fight began, and we look
at each other, we pause, and
we laugh. We laugh because
we know how crazy we are being,
we know that whatever it was that
we were fighting about isn't worth it.

*I wanna hurt because we love each other,
not because we don't.

I feel like this is all I write about,
and it makes me sad,
it makes me want to stop writing,
but it also makes me want to keep
writing.

I don't write to please anyone but
myself. If I did what would be the
point of writing? It is for me.
And if others are kind enough
to read my words and enjoy them,
then I am grateful to have written
them. And if they do get annoyed
that I keep writing about the same
subject over and over and over again,
then they may kindly stop reading
my poetry.

But look here, I have
somehow managed to create this
arrangement of letters and words to
be about something entirely different.

I should be proud of myself. But I am
not. Because if I'm honest with myself,
then I would know that this is just a poem
talking about how I should no longer write
poems about you, making this very poem
about you too. I just can't win.

I am scared.
I cannot escape this nightmare
that you have created. Why is
it following me everywhere I
go? Why can't you just be gone.
Why did you have to exist at all?
All you did was **** me up in the
head. I was forever changed by
what you did to me, by what no
one did to fix it. No one tried to
make it better. No one cared enough
to make you go away. No one locked
you up. No one threw you out. You
were allowed to stay. In the place
that I am supposed to feel the
safest, the house of God. You were
allowed to stay. Even though you
****** me up. They call that religion?
They think they can point fingers at
me because I lost most of my faith?
Is it religious to let someone take a piece
of your soul, to violate them and not
be reprimanded? That is what you call
religion? Do you think He would look
down upon you and praise you for that?
Do you think He would blame me for
turning my back on the church when the
church was supposed to be there for me?
I do not think He will think any less of me
for the decisions I have made based upon
what has been allowed by His church to
happen. I think, when my time comes and
my days on Earth are completed, that He
will not only open his golden gates for me,
but also joyously welcome me with open
arms and His loving embrace.

The way you disappear
scares me half to death
because it is not just from
me, I know that for sure.

You lose yourself completely,
you go blank, idle, nothing.
I wish that I could make the
numb drain from every inch
of your being and fill in the holes
with sunshine because that is what
you like.

*sunshine and saltwater

Your voice is the flutter of butterfly wings on a warm spring day,
your hair is the willows that sway in the cool summer breeze,
your spine is the icicles on the coldest winter day,
your touch is the crisp air in autumn.

You are the seasons that comfort me,
knowing they are always going to come,
knowing that the weather will always be the same
when it is that time of year.
You will be there, just like the seasons,
and with each season comes a different kind of beauty,
a beauty that you surely possess.

You are the snow, you are the crisp, golden leaves,
you are the flowers that bloom so bright,
and you are that summer breeze that caresses me at night.

Walking into a familiar shop,
I had seen it before in other dreams,
a little old lady smiled at me.

I said I was just looking,
she said it was fine,
didn't notice a wicked gleam in
her eye.

I looked at the bag
I had looked at before,
the price was the same,
it was too much, I swore.

I looked back to my left,
and over my shoulder,
glanced at some pictures
that were not much older.

Wait. A closer look.
Each one. One after the
other after the other after the other.
A sea of photos of a strawberry blonde.

Bathing suits and beaches,
dresses and weddings,
ponytails and pigtails,
over and over and over.

Three years old,
four years old, five, seven, ten.
Where the **** did she get them?

Sweat beading on my body,
though I'm still in shock,
I fall back from the wall,
was this done just to mock?

I look over at her,
that wicked old one,
who looked so nice and sweet before
all of this ****.

I looked at her and through
those ******* messed up
eyes I only saw him.

'Where did you get them? Where? How?'
'Where did you get them? Tell me.'
'WHERE THE **** DID YOU GET THEM? TELL ME NOW'

Body lost control. I'm on the floor.
Curled in a ball. The numb returns.
I am sobbing uncontrollably, heaving.
I cannot breathe. I cannot feel.

'Where did you get them? Where did you get them?' 'Where did you get them?'

I'm chanting to myself.

Again I cannot move, I have been there before,
away from the one who ****** me up,
those eyes are always ******* in my mind.

I look up to see my mom looking through the door,
her brow furrowed,
she knows she can do no more.

No more because they won.
No more because it's over.
No more no more no more.

I never got my answers,
They're always looking back,
those wicked smiles and evil eyes.
Those demons in my safe haven.
No more no more no more.

*Where did you get them?

Now I know
I am not the only one
waiting for my current interest's lover to leave.

Intoxicated.

Together we would be
                   e l e c t r i c
Honest from the juice that
makes our hearts weak
and our minds
                  unforgiving.
Exchanging sweet words
and giggly glances,

Intoxicated by
                    *each other.

I surround myself with the
craziest ladies this world has
ever come to know.
Where would the fun in life be
if I didn't?

*the crazy feeds my soul

Don't fall asleep on me anymore,
I want to talk to you forever.
I miss you when you're dreaming,
and my dreams don't satisfy my hunger.
So please, let your eyelids fall no longer.