currently i am not

     sad

        depressed

               lonely
  
alone

     self-loathing

             insecure
  
heartbroken

     nor breaking hearts


and that makes me feel quite
    
out of
             
               place
because i am surrounded by
  scars

     and tear-streaked (beautiful) faces

  bruised knees drawn up to chests

     dark empty rooms
  broken mirrors

     and trashcans filled

  with crumpled lists of mistakes
and if i could, 
i would take all the

  scars

    tears

     and lonely nights

from the hearts that are broken
                  
                      or breaking
and i wish i could
 cloak The Light i’ve found

    (or did It find me?)

      around cold shoulders

 and wash all the tired feet

   that’ve been blindly stumbling

      in the dark

there are so many types of rain
light rain, heavy rain
spring rain, summer rain

the kind of rain
that make you want to
curl up with a good book,
the kind the races down
your car window
as you look out at
the tall trees whizzing by

rain that you kiss in,
rain that makes you feel alone
sometimes it smells of
new beginnings
and sometimes it feels like
you’re drowning

and the eventually,
it stops
and you can hardly remember
if you even like rain
at all

she was beautiful
in every way i could think of

she had the blue eyes
that made everyone fall in love with her
she made me fall in love with the sparkle
in her eyes

she had a smile
that made everyone fall in love with her
she made me fall in love with her
tender smile

she had long, blonde hair
that made everyone fall in love with her
she made me fall in love with the way
she swung her hair

she was so beautiful
in every way i could think of

but instead of painting pictures
she played with razors
and instead of singing songs
she refused to eat
and instead of dancing around
she pushed herself too hard
and instead of smiling
she cried her heart out
and instead of kissing me
when i wanted to kiss her the most
she kept her mouth shut
and did it all over and over again
until she ran out of

                                   lies
                                        stories to tell
                                                       homework to do
                                                              ­                  excuses

and she ended her life
without knowing
that she ended
mine too

*(k.w)