You taught me how to voice my opinions and goals
then you taught me to be ashamed of having dreams.
You taught me how to take it one day at a time
then you taught me to hope for tomorrow to be better.
You taught me to laugh out loud at everything
then taught me to laugh even when it wasn't funny.
You taught me to wear my heart on my sleeve
then you taught me that the consequence is people can spit all over it.
You taught me how to stay
and then i taught you how to leave.

You always said you wished I had long hair.
So I told you I'd dye my short hair, green.
You threatened to leave me.
I told you if you ever got a buzz cut, I'd cry.
Neither of us knew that I'd cry because my hair got longer and
when I did cry, you got a buzz cut.
Suddenly I was the one leaving.

Laying in the car on my back
Trying to trick myself into believing
It warm and sunny
And realizing how easily I can lie
To myself, and it scares me.

You say my personality revolves around exhaustion.
I say yours revolves around passivity and foolishness.

Don't talk to me like you know me
Talk to me like you love me
She just wants him to adore her
Even if she yells at him and says words she doesn’t mean
Or if she sings out of tune, or that her hair is frizzy
Or she doesnt wear make up, or if she swears too much
Or if she wants to believe in love, but at the same time she doesn't.
She wants to be that girl. The one he cant stop thinking about
The one who looks pretty in a neon pink rain coat in the rain
With her hair dripping water in thin streams of uncontrolling.
She doesnt want it to be love, though that would be nice.
But she wants him to tell her that she is special
And that she is his one. And that he cares about her
In the morning and the afternoon and in the night
And especially when its raining
With her mascaras running and her hair laying flat
On her rain soaked face.

I dont have a tendency to write things when im happy,
Only when things are breaking or crashing down.
Dysfuntion usually laces the words that end up on my paper
Going down my readers throat, so that im not the only one
Whos infected with mayhem.
I am still writing about dysfuntion
But with the flavor of fantastic confusion.
Because I used to think that when you met someone
Youd know right away, that they were important.
Until now, I found out that you could meet your best friends ex
As a sophomore in spanish 3 and wait for another year
And still not know that they make you smile.
That my dear is dysfunction.
You can then finally meet them in a class
That you werent going to take in the first place.
And let them read about your biggest fears and happiest moments
Finding out that you dont have one bit of trouble letting them in.
Still you wait though, because its highschool
You will either break up soon or break up when you graduate
So why bother in the first place, if you know itll only end in distaster and heart break.
But they stay and they let you figure things out
And you ask for time
And you ask for time
And you ask for time
And thats what they give you.
And you question and question and question
And they answer and answer and answer
Until you have no choice but to accept that they are special
Because they dont make you nervous when they say the word girlfriend
And they don’t make it awkward when you ask them questions not fit for 3 weeks
They arent juvinille with the expectations of hand holding and careless I love yous.
So you let them come to your house and meet your parents and you go to theirs
You make the mistake of developing a loose mouth, and take oppurtunities
To tell your uncles and aunts about how wonderful they are and you feel yourself
Digging a hole deeper and deeper into the ground made of them.
And you know that when it ends, you will be so deep
That it will take you forever to get out.
But you stay and that is dysfuntion in its finest
Because you know the longer you stay, the more itll hurt to leave
But you stay anyways because they make you smile, and they make you laugh
And they make you happy.
So if this is what type of dysfuntion my writing will be laced with then
Let it come by the gallons.

Things people do to avoid talking/acknowledging their feelings.
Are
Change the subject
Play with you’re hair to hide the fact that you’re feeling
Hows the weather down in california?
I saw you today touching someones shoulder
To get them to stop talking about their divorce.
As a matter of fact they probably were trying to pick you up
Which made me feel
Did you dye your hair?
You keep playing with it
Whenever I bring up how we used to sit
And watch movies and talk through them
And how when ever we were having conversations
About our pasts that killed us
You would kiss me in the middle of my sentence
To stop me from opening up.
That specific kiss overwhelmed me with the feeling of
I should just leave and stop talking
Because thats what you did when it got to hard
To realize that you loved me and that I loved you back.

From being a teenage girl
In a public high school
I see my fair share of drug deals
And stoners lighting up in the bathroom
Kids over dosing in the parking lot.
Ive been to a good amount of parties
Where my best friends sprawl out all over their
Newest boy interests, sipping down alcohol
To take off just a little bit of pressure.
Ive held hair back as someone throws up
And admits that they did it on purpose
Because they ate that piece of pizza
And that they hate making them self gag.
Ive smelled the marajuana
Lacing the words about how youre fine
And how your ‘so relaxed’ now
And you dont care about anything
And so now ive relaized that
These things are drugs
For when you feel everything
To make you feel nothing

When I was little my father
Used to take me to the beach
With my tiny baby body wrapped up in his arms and
His coat that fit the 6 foot 8 inched
Man with room for an extra 4 foot girl
Who was too cold to walk by herself.
I loved the sea only beach it
Provided the beach
Which provided the walks
Which resulted in my dad with the
Extra large, forest green windbreaker.
I didn’t care for the ice cold water
Or the frigid air
Only for the effect that It had, that ended
With me inside that forest green windbreaker.
I didn’t even really like the walk because 2
Of my legs equaled one of his
But I loved how 2 of his arms equaled
One of my 4 foot bodies.

When I tell you that you scare me
I want you to take it as the biggest compliment
That I could possibly give you.
Because people who come and go
Who just scratch the surface and leave
Are easy to deal with.
They don’t make me believe that if I cry hard enough
All the bad will be washed away
They dont make me want to kiss them for the feeling of
Time passing and not regretting one second of it.
They dont make me fall apart like
A crumby piece of cake squished by a toddlers hand
They dont make me laugh until you cant even hear
My sound let alone my words
They just don’t make me feel anything.
So when I tell you that you scare me
Its because you make me feel things in extremes.
Its because I know that there is no possible way
That I can get out of this and not be changed
I will never be able to go back to the person I used to be
Because you wont scratch the surface
You will break me, and scatter me into a million different pieces
And maybe thats why you scare me so much
Because you make it seem okay
To not be a whole
And just be pieces of undetermined fate.

When laying on the bathroom floor
With your thin highlighted hair being
Held up by my shaking hands,
I realized that you were my best friend.

She accepted love
That was torn and ripped.
Love that had sharp curves
And cut into her soft skin.
She accepted what she could steal
Because love was love.
Right?
She accepted second hand kisses
And lies in the form of promises
But love was love
And promises were promises.
Right?
She accepted affection
that made her cry.
But affection was affection.
Right?
Wrong.
Get out little girl,
Run while you still can.
Love doesn't mean
That it has to hurt
Promises don't have to be hard
Affection doesn't have
to make you cry.
He is bad
No matter the excuses
That he makes
He is bad
If he makes you feel like
tangled licorice ribbon
He is bad.
Get out little girl
Run while you still can.

I had a record.
3 years of highschool
And not once, had I cried over a boy
Not
Even
Once.
You my dear,
Really ****** that one up.
3 months and 14 days
After you pinky promised
We'd try, and that we would keep each other
In the loop
You forgot to tell me
That your "jesus loving" " babe" existed.
So now I'm left
Thinking I was special
And that you were different
But actually I'm just an emotional teenage girl
And you're a ****-faced *******
Whom I wasted 8 months and 14 days loving

Our cluster of disfunction consists of
wake up and miss you
get up and text you saying i ****** it up again
Understand that in order to make up
means you can't **** it up
and then you realize that you are being held
to certain expectations.
This is were we crumble
wake up dread you
get up ignore your texts asking how i am
Understand that if i ignore anymore of your texts
this will be over and our nights of quoting jack johnson
and eating red gummy bears cause your ******
and me eating green ones just because they taste like fruit
will
be
over.
And every ******* time,
i give it up.
I willingly sacrifice my wits to over thinking
to the little things that make my brain turn and turn and turn
and let them spin and spin and eventually explode.
And then i tell you.
I never lie even though you think i do.
i promise you on my dead dogs grave
i never stopped loving you
i just can't put myself in a situation
like so many times before i am nailed to a stake that has all the things
people expect from me taped to my vulnerable body
and i never stopped loving you
but see i never started loving myself
so the trust you have so kindly filled me up with
just drains out because i have holes in my feet
where the faith seeps out and fans out into a pool similar to blood all around me.
And now we start again.
Wake up and miss you
though this time i don't have the luxury of talking to you because you hate me more than i hate myself.

People value grades and numbers
Like an under-confident teenage girl values her make-up.
Both are always at hand trying to prove themselves
Something that their not. The only difference is one hides
The physical lacking, and the other hides
The personal lacking. Status doesnt equal opinion
It doesnt equal thoughts or qualities.
It equal the amount of space that your brain has left
To memorize other peoples discoveries.
Value the things that are already taking up space
In the remarkably capable brain of yours.
Voice the things that you’ve tried  to replace
With equations and vocabulary because  
Nothing haunts us like the things we don’t say.

There is a certain amount of pressure in the fact that we live somewhere we can basically determine our own fate. The idea that one can simply change their life by filing for divorce, changing religion, applying for a new job makes it that you have no reason to whine, or ***** about your current situation. This is terrifying. The entirety of your life is placed on your shoulders and your shoulders only. In another country things might be laid out for you. Who you marry, what your job is, how your expected to act. I don't wish for this type of life, and i recognize that there is a different kind of pressure, but the type i am most afraid of is right in my own backyard. The expectation that you are in charge of you and if success isn't in your future its because you made it that way.

On the back of a math worksheet
You wrote down reasons.
Then on the back of a history worksheet
You wrote down ways.
The back of your physics homework
Had “im sorry’s”
And they all had tear stains.

On the back of my hand
I wrote down reminders to call you.
In the note pad on my phone
I wrote down plans to come talk  
And in the back of my mind
I wrote down ways to make you happier.

At 2:30, right after school
You were in your basement with pills.
You had your math,history, and physics worksheets
All laid out on the floor around you.
At 2:45 you dialed my phone, pills in hand.


At 2:30, right after school
I was on my bed looking up spanish vocabulary
I had my homework all laid out around me
At 2:45 I received your call slightly worried because
You never call, only text.

What are you supposed to say
When your best friend is on the other line
Dying before they’ve even taken the pills.
How are you supposed to make them feel better
Because at this point you both are at a loss.

Dialing 911 on the home phone
Doesn’t seem to difficult
But it really is when you can practically
Hear the minutes going by
Minutes that could determine a life from that point on
Minutes that did.

I heard that you tried again a couple months later.
I guess you smartened up and didn’t tell me this time.
You seem to have awful luck
When it comes to following through with your intentions
But while it may be unfortunate for you
Its so lucky for me because even though we don’t speak
Id like to think that one day you see that
I only wanted to stop you
From hurting yourself.

Crying under the covers
half hoping that you suffocate
is not cute.
Breathing into a paper bag
because you can't breathe the air
that everyone seems to inhale so easily
is not pretty.
Ruining yourself on the outside
to fix whats on the inside
is not beautiful.
I don't care how many
line breaks you add,
how many fonts you change,
how many pictures you can etch into your skin.
It is not something to allude to.

Sometimes i wish i could write poems
with all the similes clinging to your thoughts like barnacles.
And describe people with metaphors that wrap around the actual meaning like weeds grow on to other, more pretty plants.  
It would be nice if i could use edgy things like cigarette butts, half filled bottles of beer, and lipstick stained papers with a number jotted down
to describe mundane things like sadness and fear,
although lipstick stains and cigarette butts do leave an awfully mundane stench behind.

I think we both know its best
to forget about it
before we try to remember it
live through it.
I think you know that its best
that we stop trying to make this work
before we turn in to children
running around in a circle
trying to see who get dizzy first.
Maybe I'm a bad bad person
for saying i loved you
and then leaving
but baby i know

The first time i brought you to a party
i drank so many ***** sodas that
i could only mumble a barley audible
i wanna go home 3 hours later.

You politely excused the both of us
giving the correct amount of goodbyes
or so I'm told, and you wrapped me up
in your fuzzy coat, picked me up like a baby.

I heard that you laid me down in the backseat
of your 1975 navy blue volvo.
Kissed me on the forehead
and turned on the heat.
You put on my favorite band, and played my favorite song
and drove very safe, checking on me
every 3 light posts.    

You brought me back to my apartment
and very respectfully stripped me of my clothes
and replaced them with one of your old t-shirts
and a pair of gym shorts.
Laid me down on my bed
and climbed in with me, pulling the covers
over our bodies. You wrapped you arms
around my drunken skeleton
kissed my shoulder and slept.

But really what happened
was i drank so many ***** sodas
that i didn't see you sneak off with the nymphish  
looking redhead. So many vodkas
that i could dream out a gentlemanly situation
and enough alcohol that you could take credit.

Her name was Mave.  
She had gorgeous long red hair
and green like apples eyes.
She liked to collect circular rocks
because they gave her luck.
She was terrified of driving
because just the idea of trusting others
with giant metal machines going at 70 mph
made her head hurt.
She loved freckles because she said
that they looked like little hearts on peoples faces.
She hated pumpkins and carrots. First of all because
they were orange just like her hair, and she liked to think
that the color was special and not given to things as mundane as a food.
Second of all, shed like to believe that shed be caught dead
before she ever asked for anything pumpkin flavored and conform to the 'white girl'.
and carrots just tasted funny.
She was inconsistent, and while some said it kept them on their toes
the truth is, all it did was keep them wrapped around her finger.
She was careless and didn't think much before she acted.
It could be seen as spontaneous, but actually it was just hurtful.
She loved the winter, because her cheeks matched her hair
and she stood out against the pure white snow.
She loved summer as well because she didn't need to be held
to anyones expectations and she could simply disappear.
She was an all or nothing type girl. Its why she either summer
or its polar opposite winter.
Its why she wanted to either be your lover
or be a stranger.

Maybe id be a better daughter
if you were a better mother

Up until i was 12 years old
i used to only read this giant dictionary.
See this book had a whole section
dedicated to names.
Boys names
Girls names
Their meanings
Their roots.
I would sit up in my room
with my hair hanging in front of my face
in my sisters old Beatles t-shirt
and highlight the names that made me happy.
Now this may seem cute and nice, but really its not.
I would pretend that i was having kids
and that these were the names.
i would plan their likes and attitudes.
Big events in their lives.
Interests,hobbies, all the way down to favorite foods.
The fact is that this makes me a hypocrite
because one of the scariest things in my life
is expectations and for 12 years
i sat and planned my unborn children.
and this is why i don't want to have kids anymore
because i don't want them to have to live up to my expectations
because what if i don't love them anymore if they don't.
because i sure don't love me anymore.

I hate it
more than anything else
when people negatively comment
on how much energy someone has.
No need to be so excited  
Yes there is sir.
As a matter of fact
we have a great need to be excited.
We have to make up
for all the negative
grumps like you.

i have never
not once
not even one time
been able to write a story.
I have prepared characters
hair
eye
skin color.
I have prepared their
likes
dislikes
quirks.
I know when they
are born and when they die.
I know why they hate driving on highways
and why they love sour cherry jellybeans.
I know who they fall in love with and
with whom it doesn't work out.
But why, for the love of god,
can't i write a story about them.

Love is pretty much every single person involved
turning into a ****.
Curling, griping, grasping someone so tight
that they squirm.
We like to say that this is an act of affection
but really, whats so lovely about latching on
to something that always changes?
because as far as I'm concerned, that is not lovely at all.
That is just plain self harm.

We are acting as juvenile
as two middle school kids
convinced their in love
when all they do is hold hands
and maybe sit together at lunch.
If they are feeling brave.  

This is as pointless
as straightening my hair
when the rain dribbles down
begging to invade my smoothness
and turn it into a waste of time.

This is as painful
as running with shin splints
and pushing on anyways.
Except it hurts on the inside.

This is as over
as it is.
and i would like to say
i am sorry for not being more okay
with juvenile pointless pain.

I want you to come back
and lay with me on the rocks
with our hands intertwined
on top of my soft stomach.
Arguing about whether
people are overrated or not.

A half filled Kool-aid filled water bottle
lays next to your pile of tangled emotions
that you've finally let pour out
Of your locked up body.
You claim that society has turned us all
Into casualties of greed and competition.
That people have been born into lives
that teach them to focus on being successful
rather than being happy.
So as you cry under your covers at night
struggling to breathe at a normal pace
please remember that you don't have to be society
to be happy.  
Learn to be your own world
refuse to be a casualty of society.

I only cry in the shower
Because you feel your eyes start to blur
But maybe it's from the steam
Not from the wrecking ball of emotions

I only cry in the shower
Because no one can come in
And see you falling apart
They can't even hear you

I only cry in the shower
Because you can't tell the difference
Between the water from the shower head
And your own tears
And for some reason I feel comfort in that

Why do we waste so much time on things that don't make us happy

Where do you want to go to college?  
Excuse me, while i go take advil to clear my head.
What do you want to be when you graduate?
One minute please, i just have to go have a quick panic attack.
Why did you drop spanish 4? Are you crazy?
Ill be right back, i just can't really breathe right now.
You know that if you don't get yourself together you'll be living at home?
Ill just be one second, i suddenly feel like i have to throw up.
Emma. Stop avoiding the problem, you won't get anywhere with that attitude.
Believe me i know. Maybe if i just go to slept for a bit...
If you work hard now, you'll be much happier later.
Thats what people say, but why can't i be happy now too?
Maybe you could get into Berkley, they look for special talents, you know.
Special talents like what? Im pretty good at memorizing lyrics to songs that no one knows.
What are you thinking, you need at least a 3.4 GPA to make it.
really though i can't breathe.
We aren't made of money, if we can't afford school and you don't get a scholarship...
Please stop, i really don't feel well.
Did you do well on the math test?
My stomach can't handle this.
My brain can't handle this.
I just can't handle this.

All people are created equal.
*******.
If you say that then you have no respect
No one is equal to another
because that would mean that
every one of us is replaceable.
You equal you, no one else.
No one is less and no one is more
but no one is equal.

Its funny how i expect you to talk to me
when every time i see you i duck in cover
and cross my fingers that i didn't look as bad
as i did in that picture someone took this morning.
Why do i think that if i don't have enough guts
to simply look up and smile, that'd you'd have the guts
to come over and converse with my high-pitched comments.
Maybe its because i don't want to smile in case you don't smile back
or maybe its because i don't want to be too available or then ill look desperate.
I really need to be more confident and move past my phase of seductively doing nothing

I need to learn how not to open my mouth
in desperation to fill the empty silence
that should've been words
if this were to work.
I need to understand that maybe
your not saying anything simply
because you have nothing to say
not because your angry or bored
but simply because you don't need to say anything
why do i need to say anything anyways
i always just blurt some
ignorant, high pitched statement
that honestly has nothing to do with us

I know you hate me
with parts of your heart
you never even knew existed
and i can't deny
that i deserve it and that i was selfish
with your feelings
and careless with your heart
but please don't let your life suffer
because of my mistakes
don't fall into the trap of sadness
because you deserve better than me
and the only way you'll get it
is by taking yourself seriously
dont ***** it up
you don't get a rerun

I find it so astonishing
that people can stand
to marry or date
or be friends with people
who aren't pretty on the inside
that don't think thoughts
but just recreate what has been
forced into their mouths.
I find it so astonishing
that humans are exactly
as materialized and shallow
as we make ourselves out to be

i'm having a really difficult time
trusting the process.
That if i do everything
that is expected of me
i will be okay.
Because I've done
almost everything right
and i am most definitely
not okay

Why does growing up seem so amazing
when your 11 years old?
Why do you want so badly
to receive trust
or independence?
Because to get that
you need knowledge.
and knowledge
requires seeing your heroes
turn human

Have you ever noticed
that poems are kind of like
paragraphs except
with
many
indentations.

I keep trying to start this
in a way that gets my feelings across
but that is incredibly difficult
when i don't even know what my feelings are.
I don't know what i want to happen
or for you to
say or
do or act.
I don't know what i should
say or
do or act.
I hate being in the dark with you
because i can only swing blindly
for what you want.
I wish i hadn't met you
because no happiness is worth
this
much
stress

I want you to realize
Realize how much of me you have in your hand.
Handle me a little more gently.
Gentleman who barge and crash aren't looked upon fondly.
Fondling with my feelings isn't something I'm ok with.
Without you I collapse into pieces.
Piece me back together.
Together until I'm one
One without you.

I hope your happy
You are officially
The only person
That I've lost
a full nights sleep over.
I don't think you understand
Though how much
Of me you hold in your palm
Because if you did
You wouldn't be
So **** careless

Look for the people
who fall in love with your laugh.
Not ones who fall in love with your style
or your haircut
or your makeup.
Look for people who
love your sneeze
your eye color
the way you wake up in the morning
how you talk when your drunk
how you hold your pointer finger on your nose when your nervous.
Fall in love with the people who fall in love
with the things about you
that are unchangeable.
that way you know they they have
truly and honestly have
fallen in love with you.

If i reacted the way normal people did
than id probably tell you that you are  
a no good, wretched, hypocritical, *******.
Because that how you act
at least towards me.
but because i do not react the way normal people do
i simply take it
and move on.
Half because i don't want to loose you
and half because i can't.

Hello my old heart
i'm sorry to say
that during all the time you took off
due to being broken
you my dear
have been replaced.
For what you may ask?
Because you were always
too busy sitting under my ribcage
knitting scarfs and hats of messy emotions for me to wear.
It made it a slight bit difficult for your co-worker, the brain, to function.
And you know how important it is, that he does.
See this new heart doesn't talk much.
Its calmly sits and listens obediently to the brain.
To be honest, its wonderful.
As much as i remember how fantastic it was
to let you, let me love.
I also remember how much i hated
how you let me hurt.
So now i want you to think of this
next time you are placed under someones ribcage,
If you had only listened to the brain    
maybe you wouldn't have broken
and then maybe i never would have fired you.

The reason i go on carnival rides
is because they spin faster
than the thoughts in my head.
I just needed to know that that was possible

Its kind of like the reason i go to horror movies
I like to know that i have a reason
to be scared out of my mind
even if i actually scared
of myself
not the things in the movie

Or the reason i drink ***** from the water bottle
Its nice to feel all over the place
and not have anyone judge you or think
that you a mess
because you can't handle the stress.

But really the reason i do these things
is because they do an excellent job
of simply hiding what a train wreck i am.

When i first met you
you told me you could do a 360
on a wave
with your boogy board.
I told you i liked to paint
because you looked like a painter.
First of all i was lying.
I can't paint pictures
but i love to paint souls.
I love to splatter them with vibrant memories
and to add on to your mind with soft strokes of pastels.
I would love it more than anything
if you were a painter of souls too.
I need someone to paint my mind
something other than dark moody red and browns.
It would be lovely if you could paint me with yellows
and teals and pinks.
Maybe ill even let you paint my heart
Maybe ill even paint yours.

I feel so small
in the comparison to all of the people
who weave their words
into a web of emotions and thoughts
with confidence.

I feel microscopic
in relation to all the experiences and responsibility
that everyone carries in their complicated minds.

This is because all i have to remember
is to take the chicken *** pie
out of the oven.
and all i have to write about
is how i feel so small