Been working so hard
at keeping my vulnerability from escaping
I can feel my resistance pitching tents in my chest
sighing, "we're not doing this again"
Because it still doesn't feel safe
there's canyons of heartache in my memories
that I wish I could fill with cement
still writing so many poems of lament
and it just doesn't feel fair
I'm a lover girl turned ice cold
once had passion that burned
so hot it could make you blister
The girl who loved bravely--I miss her
And maybe I'm just not as naive
back then all I did was believe
falling in love was always so easy
there was no way you'd hurt me
And maybe I just miss the naivety
required to fall in love so easily
Heartache feels like pollution on my psyche
that never brings climate change
I'm tired of this ice age

I wanted more from you
than you were willing to give
but I can't expect action
from someone so miserably passive
even though you always had such pretty words
I remained thirsty for pretty verbs
that I knew I'd never see
but I kept hoping
and
I used to think you were my ghost
now I'm wondering if I'm more than just the host
for my own haunting
that's traumatizing and taunting my psyche
telling me I'm not worthy
all because of the actions of weak men  
that I give more power to than they deserve
once again...
and
communication without comprehension
is a deadly circle I find myself dizzying in
I could talk myself in to the ground
and think I'm breaking through to you
but it's an illusion
just like your truth
and perhaps mine too
I want to feel like I am more than a bucket list ****
I want to feel worthy, not down on my luck
and I know
I'll feel that better on my own
rather than the repetitive ******* I've been shown
the mind changes, rearranges
and I'm back to square one
boxes were never in my comfort zone
neither was being alone
I'd rather embrace my solo

Life is pretty beautiful sometimes despite the *******. As I was driving home the other night, I saw branches illuminated in a streetlight and thought to myself ******* that's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. It was sort of over a dumpster, but in the area of the sky for me in that moment had that beautiful scene above me. So I guess what I'm saying, is if you're struggling to see the light, just look for the branches that are illuminated while you lay in the dumpster below in a dark winter. That way you don't even have to get up until you get the strength. Maybe spring thaws your limbs and you can stretch out again. Just keep looking up.

Textured skin
humans on display
I wanna shed the skin of my insecurities
light it on fire and walk away
ashes to ashes, prices to pay
drowning in societal pressures
every single day
and
I wanna be free from that world
without leaving it
I wanna be free from display
without turning off the spotlight
I like the warmth of connection
waves of sound and light
I wanna be, I wanna feel, alright

you told me it's like
i have sparks in my head
i told you i liked
the way i felt in your bed
but choices are choices
and they're mine alone
it's not about feeling small comforts
it's about feeling at home

I've been carrying my anger
like a runaway bag
but my arms have given out
and I'm starting to lag...
Our memories keep replaying
and it feels like I'm being burnt with steam
my heart ******* aches; it's blistering.
And I hate knowing more about your history
despite knowing you a long time already
I didn't know you very well, clearly
I knew nothing about your constant state of misery
and all the toxic baggage you carried so heavily
that I picked up without even being asked
maybe that's what caused so many panic attacks...
And I see you like the idea of filtering
through women that used to be bordering
on being best friends or being enemies
and how you love getting comfortable right in-between
But you're going to run out of targets,
you're going to break your record score
you snaked out my vulnerabilities, my secrets
and wear them on your arm like a *****.
But unlike you, I know exactly who I am
you pretend to revere women
when in reality you ******* hate them.
I hope you never look me in the eyes again
what ever happened to honest men?
Regardless of the matter, I hope you find the help you need.
Ps. The leather jacket I bought you looks better on me

headphones hit a little different sometimes
melody striking me right in the ******* spine
I wanna break open every feeling I'm suppressing
tired of keeping my own self guessing
on what's gonna get conjured up next
I'm not saving money, so I won't make bets
I'm spending
so I'd rather take another loss
rewind me, get that dust off me, what's the cost?
I've got light leaks bleeding into my brain
nostalgia like film strips developing in wood stain
I wanna find a new way to dig deep
I wanna find a melancholy that doesn't seep
into the depths of me that end up poisoning
it doesn't belong in my bloodstream
but it enters through my lungs
I breathe it in every time I think
which is constant, and burying
I'm ready to move into a new year
find a new perspective that's a little more clear
get a new grip on reality
that doesn't give me blisters or make me bleed
feel the wind on my face
that doesn't come with a warning
I'm already freezing

you know I'm like the moon
I shine in darkness
so I seek it

and here's the thing
I don't give a ****
about what you think I might have said about you
over five years ago
in coversations that were once private
with someone who doesn't **** with me anymore
leave the drama at the door
stop keeping score

Every direction
Every day
Every peripheral
Every way
I can’t help it
I need to create it
I always see it
Art is the reason I wake up
Art is the reason I sleep
So I can see a new day
While inspiration seeps
I want to explain it better
But I never quite get it right
Art is my oxygen
Art is my light

I wish I could have seen so many things sooner
I want to find past me and shake her.
And while the other side may not be greener,
it feels like there's clarity
You didn't have any spine, all you had was the audacity.
To treat people the way you have,
I wouldn't have the capacity...
I wonder how you're sleeping

Lately I've been haunting my ghosts back
just as much as they haunt me
visions of silhouettes against stain glass
crisp autumn air in our mourning
I keep an iron grip in my mind
of every texture, every scent,
every feeling, and what everything meant
The darkness of November always sneaks up on me
and even without light, it's blinding
November always rips away at me
sometimes in a way that hurts me
other times, in a way that's healing
I don't always have the time to dissect it
I don't always find a way to understand it
I just feel it
and let it wash over me
there's art on the other side of the misery

this armor is becoming quite heavy
my flesh is rusted chainmail that cuts me
from your view I'm a stormy sea
but I'm calm on the other side of me

Pandemic levels of confusion
I wanna go back to when it made sense

Been listening to the saddest playlists I can muster
while some have only been on the back burner
just waiting for the next heartache to come my way
it's a shame you never really calmed my anxiety's shakes
codependence turned into despondence and headaches
I woke up in your arms day after day
even the day you officially ran the other way
and left me there still shaking
I couldn't have ran after you even if I had been ready
I'd been trudging through the mud for too long already
and lately I've been forgetting what you feel like
I'm still waiting to decide how I feel about that

Reaching and breaking
a high until I fall
just to get you to hear me at all
I loved you so blindly,
so purposely and entirely,
focusing everything
to our future that I carved out into my psyche
clammy hands gripping ballpoints while I'm shaking
Because linear lines were never really my thing
especially in learning about loving
and what it would eventually bring me
But it was never supposed to be like this
I guess lessons are sometimes easy to miss
I'm glad I was I was already standing
Meanwhile I've been carrying so much hostility
vulnerability doesn’t come so easy anymore
I feel weak whenever I let down a wall,
open a window, or a door...
And because of that, no one ever really gets in
if they do, just like you, it’s right before they’re leaving
Because time and time again I’m shown
that I’m only here to change a man’s life, not stay in it
while they're thirsty for me to inspire it,
to mystify, to entertain ****
to help them see what they’re worth
to dig into their layers running deeper than the earth’s...
But I’m not here to be a muse
without reciprocation of inspiration infused...
I want someone to dig into my layers
the way that I dig into theirs
instead of playing the part of understanding me
when in reality, they don't ******* care...
It was easier for you to stay on the surface
where you could observe me, lay within me,
take my vibe in without any hassle,
but my roots are just as important as my petals
You made it to my soil and wanted a ******* medal
Got into the dirt where it's dark,
and I suddenly became too heavy
I became a burden you carried
while I continued to carry you...
And I don't think I was ever truly yours
I didn't want to be just another
I didn't want to be your mother, your therapist, your **...
I felt like a hidden world being left undiscovered
that you once said you wanted so badly to know
your words will never produce as much as your actions show
because if you had ever loved me, you'd have let us grow
planting the seeds were half the toil
and your roots were never in my soil

tell me again about how you're living life different
about your rose colored cheeks and swimming against the current
you've got me filled with artificial intensity
while you're leaking out your acidic hypocrisy

My voice may get shakey
whenever I cry or when I sing,
but I take my photographs steadily,
and make them really mean something.
There's confessions in everything;
in my memories, in my bones,
in my poetry, in my songs
on the gravel roads where I meet god...
I can't look at anything without seeing expression
and I can't remember living without my depression
So what happens when there's peace?
There's a certain discomfort in that space
There's art everywhere and I want to swim in it
but I'm so often being rushed away in the current...
sinking at sea until the water is no longer blue
I keep forgetting you can't go around,
you always gotta go through...
And while I might be feeling a loss,
while I might be feeling lonely,
I've got plenty of things that I consider as wealth,
none of them being money.
So I'm gonna wipe away my tears
I'm gonna continue to sing
and there's gonna be nothing that stops me
from seeing art in everything.

Been about a month now
since you skipped out
You romanticized me for so many years
I was bound to let you down
only so much time could pass
before you wouldn't want me around
And hey baby that's cool
just wish I didn't break my own rules
rules you never even knew
but you'd have stomped over those too, if you did
I hate how you'd talk to me like I was a ******* kid
meanwhile I had to remind you to brush your teeth
remind me again how you were so much better than me...
A self-proclaimed, self-aware, self-diagnosing, king
pursuing me while you still had a ring?
"I just haven't done the paperwork, it's nothing"
Doesn't sound much like royalty to me
sounds like a mess without loyalty
to anyone but himself.
I hope you get over yourself--for your health.

A cog in the machine
A devastated dream

Exuding light still from inside of me
Although small, it is but mighty
My icy exteriors make more room for assuming
I’ve got a heart that’s still beating
Looking for answers & looking for meaning

join me in space
we're getting high on expectations
and lost causes
crushing up dried roses
that I've kept after all this time
and no one knows this
or what the roses really mean
if you think know, you know nothing
it just exists for me
and I want to keep floating
in-between misery and day dreams
I feel safer in the fantasy
of delusion meeting hope for something
for anything

Layer after layer
I'm scraping away at you
I've got blankets of my good intentions
soaked in paint remover
Every day I lay them over
your thick coats of shame and fear
that suffocates all your thoughts
that you continuously refuse to share
They've eventually gotta go some place...
but where?
They get buried under your growing resentment
that's coated over all your shame
which then floats in insecurities
that always have someone else to blame
And arguing, for you, is like a sport
that you'll do anything to win
I can't ever find a way out of this
when there's not even a way in
I keep running away
but only in circles
that lead right back to you
cause I'm not ready to choose
I'm not ready to lose
so I'll grab another blanket
and soak it

My trauma isn't based in arguments of woman vs man,
It's patterns vs observation;
Post-traumatic self-preservation.
Giving explanations to my hesitation
is a sign of my thirst for consolation,
not an invitation to argue my trauma into rehabilitation
when you don't have all the information...
My heart sleeps every night under a deep rooted tree formation
that shades over all of my humiliation and devastation.
I may be miles away from where I first experienced my trust's suffocation,
I just need to rest here for a little while longer...
The sun is healing and always comes out eventually,
but I can't heal from any light that's cast artificially.
While destruction to my foundation eventually brings creation,
that which is planted can not sprout without germination...
I'm still waiting for my seed's coat to rupture
so I can spread my roots into the earth and learn to trust her.
I'm rebuilding the burned down home that housed my trust in men,
I'm laying bricks down every day until I can believe again....
That I'm not in danger anymore.
That I can move my body away from the door I've been barricaded against,
long before the break in, and ever since.
Because the punches just kept coming;
It was never raining, it was always pouring.
And I'm still floating in those wells that are shaded deeply under trees.
It's not a challenge for you to find a resolve to...
I'm not looking to argue.
I just want you to believe that I'm trying every day,
that I'm not stubborn in my ways...
I'm finding a way out of the darkness; I'm finding a way to feel safe.
I'm always looking for the light.

making yourself the victim all the time gets really old
and I know you're not one to take any suggestion you're told
because if **** got better you can't place blame
in every direction except the one that it came
and baby that source is right back to you
I've got, the world's got, we've all got trauma too
but I don't use it for reasons to treat you like ****
all I was ever looking for was a genuine apology and I never got it
and I know deep down you might want to get better
but you want to take the easiest way
there isn't a pill to take away trauma you haven't faced
you're all over the ******* place...
and I'll be able to sleep at night, just maybe not that soon
breathing got easier without you ******* it all out of the room
but I don't like to live a life with regrets,
I loved you with all of me, and I can't change it
I stood with my arms open to you ready to do the work
but I can't tell you the view will be beautiful at the top
if you're going to sit at the bottom in the dirt
which is where you always liked it
manipulation and mental gymnastics
shattered my rose colored glasses

Scrolling my phone mindlessly
breezing past a selfie from someone in a bar
on the windowsills I used to sit...
I don't necessarily miss it;
but there's melancholy for the memories,
the smell of cigarettes on my fingertips,
and ***** soaking my worries...
tonight it feels like that could be nice,
cause I haven't been able to sleep for days...
been having nightmares every time I do;
and everything I write just feels redundant
but I've got so much I wanna say...
summer makes me feel more lonely
than when I'm under winter skies,
got so many parts of myself I don't recognize...
but every street has a memory,
and I'm just trying to move on
where bartenders once memorized my drinks,
they now probably wouldn't remember my name....
quit smoking **** in the spring
I'm spending money recklessly
******* myself over royally
I just wanna feel something good

I dance with all my demons
But they’ve got no rhythm

Got a passion that takes over my body
It’s a feeling in my chest that gets absorbed into my bloodstream
then disappears into my cells until they start to scream
I want to create art at the beginning and end of every breath
but when I sit down to regurgitate all my thoughts, I just need rest
the day got under my skin & the patterns got harder to part from
I got new prescriptions to find parts of myself inside of
but ignoring my art feels like a cardinal sin
I want to give myself a win
without giving excuses

Perceiving and being
are two very different things
And I never know from which view you're seeing
I'm still trying to figure it all out
I don't feel like there's any direction I'm facing
it's making me feel dizzy
and a little ******* crazy
Losing grip; dreaming
where I only see silhouettes
that resemble memories  
Some that I recognize
and others that I don't
Like cigarette stained walls
that I can't scrub clean, it lingers
There's evidence of you existing everywhere
in my habits, in the weather
Today it feels like a boulder on my chest
and other days, like a feather

Hold me like a dry flower
because my petals are still hungry
I'm thirsty, come on and fill me up
I don't turn technicolor for just anyone

Lately I've been haunting my ghosts back
just as much as they haunt me
visions of silhouettes against stain glass
crisp autumn air in our mourning
I keep an iron grip in my mind
of every texture, every scent,
every feeling, and what everything meant
The darkness of November always sneaks up on me
and even without light, it's blinding
November always rips away at me
sometimes in a way that hurts me
other times, in a way that's healing
I don't always have the time to dissect it
I don't always find a way to understand it
I just feel it
and let it wash over me
because there's always art waiting
on the other side of the misery

**** your expectations & entitlement
to my tenderness & vulnerability
to desire does not mean you will receive
you already made the choice to leave
the first ******* two, three times...
I’m no longer on the other line.
hang the **** up
don’t try a twelfth, thirteenth time
I’m doing just fine

you think only of yourself
told me we were on the same team
now my silence is my self defense
because it's better not to speak
I refuse to think that's weak
I'm protecting what's mine

You told me I never wrote poems about love,
but it's because I never needed an outlet.
I often write about something when it poisons me,
and I don't want to continue to feel it.
So why would I ever write about love
that I never want to leave me?
Unless its through my hands, or my lips
to douse you with completely

Land of the free, land of "me me me"
when it should be "we";
it should be community
with a priority of protecting
your neighbors,
your daughters,
your sons,
mothers, and fathers
and their right to choose,
their right to live,
their right to freedom,
and their right to give
to any cause, to any God,
to have autonomy of their bodies
that don't bear the weight of laws.
Land of the free, only if you can afford it
and if you need help, don't ask for it,
you'll get shamed for it.
Land of the free, unless it's asylum you seek;
you'll be called dangerous, lazy, and weak.
I want to see acts of kindness
I want to see acts of peace
I so tired of this narrative
I'm tired of the collective grief.
This rollercoaster is never ending,
with constant spinning, turning,
and worrying
about the safety of my body
the safety of my peers,
the rich getting richer
and politicians mongering fears.
And then using it to their advantage
using it to get ahead,
no matter who it might hurt,
no matter who it might leave dead.
Land of the free, collectively screaming
but only ever at each other
at our neighbors, our children,
our fathers and mothers.
And for what? To feel glory?
To feel holy?
Are we really so lost
that we can't recognize repeating history?
Because saying "it could be worse"
means you think the loss of freedom for others is fine
you only hear their stories as complaining
and their terrified voices as a whine.
I don't know where we go from here
I don't know where to put the pain
I don't know how to make people understand
the importance of caring...
about a fellow human's well-being
beyond your own carcass
about the light and life in others
being swallowed by darkness.
Because I believe that freedom for others
doesn't affect any freedom for me
It isn't always about equality
it's about equity.
Oppression of other's freedoms is abhorrent;
why be so afraid to swim against the current?
Land of the free if you've got the right skin tone,
land of the free if you've got the right "parts"
yet the folks who know true oppression,
are so often the ones with the biggest hearts
who continue to believe in community,
who believe the oppressed and their stories,
who care for the well being of others
and no need for personal glory.
Give us liberty.

They’ll play the villain you keep painting them as if you’re not careful...

Too cool to suggest anything to
I understand not wanting to waste your time
But at a certain point
you're just moving through life
with a closed mind
And too much pride  
How are you able to have a god and victim complex at the same time?
I'd tell you that you should be studied
but you'd smirk and whole heartedly agree
Then go on and on about being the person who is the most interesting
But you're really so exhausting
Not everything needs to be so serious
If a woman making music and showing her body distracts you so much
then just stick to audio recordings
instead of making it her issue
that you fall victim to
all because you have no self control
Because which is more pitiful?
A brain that can't see a woman without thinking about ***?
Or a woman who openly admits she likes it.
I can assure you it's not the latter
What a woman is wearing while creating shouldn't ******* matter
Your narrative is weak and outdated
And while I'm at it
what the **** have you created?
I'd like to see you be half as creative as the **** you complain about seeing
when you're not even listening
You're just too cool
aren't you

Humid summer skin
all my thoughts dangling from the tip of the crescent moon
golden orange, smoke filled sky
burning land, clammy hands
you hold them anyway
I get so wrapped up in thoughts that don’t serve me
I get so burnt out by opinions from people who don’t know me
half of them, I’m likely only assuming
and I guess, in a way, so are they
haven’t been feeling much like myself lately
but I suppose that comes with loss
new mournings every morning
and they just keep coming
I don’t remember anymore what it’s like to not feel dizzy  
got achy knees, my brain’s horizon is foggy
my broken bones held together with titanium feel creaky
I want to experience just one day
where I’m not critically thinking about my body
the weight of insecurity can become so heavy
it’s no wonder my bones keep creaking
got so many voices bleeding into them and steeping
feeling the eyes of strangers keeping tabs and watching
And I gotta be honest
some days I just wanna disappear
crawl into the earth and hibernate for a year
I won’t stay gone forever
I’m not done here
I just need a break
I’ll repair the damage of whatever I miss with titanium plates
What is really at stake?
Fluff my pillow up under the roots of a willow tree
I’ve got too many blankets giving me the illusion of sleep
It’s just too heavy
not moving isn’t comparable to healing
you can’t ignore what’s still being carried
let it go let it go let it go
throw it into the wildfires
and send it off to the orange moon

paisley prints and ripped tights
early mornings and late nights
small pockets of the world
that feel like they partly belong to me
from how often I'm frequenting,
arriving, and even after departing
I've got the muscle memory
but there's some streets
I'll never go down again
unless I'm transported against my will
with a sharp scent that rushes nostalgia
and transports me back to the trauma
or just the melancholy
of a time in life I'll never get back
time has fallen off it's tracks
and I'm somewhere in the middle of the crash
between the beginning and the end
sometimes I feel like I'm playing pretend
looking at myself from the outside in

Staring
at the empty word document on my screen
Waiting
for a jolt of poetic words that can express
everything inside of me I've been avoiding
But I'm coming up with nothing
empty hands
empty mind
empty heart
I feel censored in my art  
and I don't know how to remove the static

cracking cold achy knuckles
always happens when I'm nervous
**** your tenderness

Speckled across my brain like glitter
abnormal amounts of white matter
every day I’m dizzy; head spinning sensations
I want to know what it’s like to feel like myself again
but I think I am being introduced to a new version
Emma 2.0
although
I know
I’m well past a couple versions now
got my own ideas and visions to reach for
and I just stretched my skin out into my 34th year
my angel number, I find comfort there
now I've gotta decide what direction I’m going
or at least just start walking
I know I can always re-route later

He's like an old building that's decayed. The bones are good. The core is sturdy. But everything is falling apart and in a state of disrepair without the right tools. He doesnt wanna find the right tools, and I can't find them for him. I'd probably find the wrong ones anyway

sharp teeth stained
dripping with disdain
blood from my brain
hubris soaked in shame
I am my own glass ceiling
being weighed down
with stones of good intentions

A million kisses and I want more
just give me six seconds
again and again
Your calloused hands all over me
holding my head in your hands is like ecstasy
If you’re ever lovesick for me
let my mouth be your remedy
Keep adoring me
and I’ll keep lapping and licking
I’ll stay thirsty for my man, for my baby
Keep on protecting me
and I’ll keep flowering
my petals are yours to keep stroking
I want you to crave me
Keep your hands and eyes on me
like when you're thrusting into the walls of me
You’re in me; literally and figuratively
Baby, keep on visiting
we’re not stopping at a million