You can tell a lot about a woman by her charm bracelet.
Almost every woman in my life owns one.
My mother, my grandmother, even my aunts.
My grandmother’s is the loudest,
For it contains the most amount of charms.
Each one, a story to tell.
When I was younger, I would count them and ask about each and every one.
“What’s this one for?”
“Why do you have this?”
For each one, an answer, a story or two.
I was lucky enough to be gifted one myself.
It’s the quietest.
Only containing five charms.
I often wonder if my children will count them out,
and inquire about their meanings.
I wonder how many charms I'll have by then.
Is there a time I will stop collecting?
Will I ever cease to achieve?
I wonder.

13 years old
12 remarks about suicide
11 red marks on your wrists
10 hugs
9 unread messages
8 breakdowns
7 FaceTime calls
6 worried thoughts
5 fingernail marks on your skin
4 painkillers
3am trying to keep you alive
2 times I thought you were dead
1 more weight on my shoulders

I was too young to be responsible for your emotional state.
I didn't deserve it.
You didn't deserve it.
It hurt to watch you hurt yourself.
It hurt to watch you starve yourself,
Slowly watching your clothes get bigger.
Everyday showing up with new self inflicted wounds,
One thought ran through my mind.
“It's all your fault.”
All I wanted was for you to feel better.
I still see you sometimes,
I still greet you with a friendly wave.
But you'll never know what you took from me all those years ago.

Through crowded restaurants,
Deep swimming pools,
Empty schools.
Through Underground tunnels,
Open fields,
Quiet shopping centers,
Houses I've never seen before.

Sometimes I even believe it's real for a moment,
But I don't wake up disappointed.
Because the next time I see you I get to say:
“Hey, I had a dream about you last night.”
And that's all that matters.

It’s crazy looking back
What I would’ve done for you
But now I recognize
You wouldn’t have done the same for me

I thought I couldn’t live without you
But I’m still breathing
Slowly sinking

There was nothing poetic about that night.
But it made me realize I’d follow you anywhere.
No matter how fast you run or how much trouble we get into.
Because getting into trouble with you is my new favorite hobby.

i won't text you
I won’t call you just to ask how you are
i won't give you hugs
i won't go to your games
i won't be invited to your birthday parties
i won’t bring you up in conversation with my friends
we won't be partners for school projects
we won’t take pictures together, although you’ll remain smiling in every one i own
but every little poem like this will still remind me of you
and just for a moment i’ll still hear your voice in a crowded hallway

I’m afraid of falling in love
At least that’s what I tell myself
Every day I become closer to you
Every good dream becomes about you
Every conversation leads to you
Every love song becomes about you
And every thing I see reminds me of you
You fill each and every blank space in my mind
It frightens me
Maybe I don’t have a fear of love
just falling out of it

The worst feeling in life is,
Knowing how much you’re going to miss a moment,
That you're already in.

The light of the stage shining,
The smiles of a friend,
The warmth of another person by your side,
The joy around Christmas time,
The glow of fireworks,
The thrill of a roller coaster,
The taste of a sweet treat,
The feeling of dogs fur,
The smell of rain,
The fun days in class,
The feeling of going out to eat on Fridays,
The non-stop laughter,
The sound of cheering,
The way the stars look against the black of night,

I walk in and see your face
I see your eyes and ears,
Your mouth and nose
Most people would see a crotchety old man
But I stare you straight in the face,
And see what no one else seems to see

You have lived eighty-six years
What do you have to show?
Each line,
Each mark,
Each wrinkle,
Time has delicately placed upon your face,
Tell a story

A story that I would love to hear,
A story that I may share one day too
Now tell me,
What is your story?

Once upon a night so quiet, that even the streets were silent,
I dreamt of the sweetest things, visions of dandelion fields and cream
Of better days, those great memories all hidden in life’s great maze
His eyes aglow in a bright sunbeam, as blue as blue might seem
But it all seems so real, my blood flows like a freshwater stream
Alas, this is just a dream

Slumber that is pleasant as a sunflower, these sweet dreams turn sour
A monster churning and waiting in a deep dark room, I try to scream
Waiting for the slightest bit of light to break this eternal fright
No more dandelions in the gleam, only sadness extreme
The beauty has turned to dust, sometimes dreams are not what they seem
Please help me out of this dream