The season is changing;
I liked, the long daylight
I loved, the warm sun and the display of natures best

I liked, cool rivers in the heat of the day
I loved, the busy day and the seemingly short nights.

My confidence & happiness was at there best
When my successes were much easier

The season is changing;
I dislike, that my youth is dulling
I hate, the weight that camouflages my inner self

The season is changing;
My confidence & happiness steadily diminish.
There must be a purpose to push on.

I am being phased out.
Just a withering leaf about to be plucked.

Regrettably, the season has changed.

This feeling inside me.
Why. Why wont it go away.
It's in my voice & in my throat.
It's in my eyes & in my hart.

This longing, this emptiness.
It bothers me so.
I try to let it go.

I try to go about my day.
A normal day, it can not be.

I try to let it go.
It's of no use.
Crap, Crap, Crap!

I don’t play chess with love.
There is no strategy, no foresight,
No due process; only a knot in the gut
Which prevents all action
That does not result in your touch.

I don’t chase after love.
I lie in wait, in unfamiliar places,
Abandoned mines and filthy drunk tanks-
Watch morning break through the cloud
With stupid hope there are no more false dawns.

I don’t bear false witness to love.
I tie a ribbon to the loaded gun
And hand it over to the woman
Holding a scalpel with a smile
And earnest for my confession.

I don’t want to do this anymore.
My heavy limbs, lack of light.
Waking up to Ground Zero
And sleeping with a lie of chemicals .
I don’t want to forget how to love.

I don’t think the choice is mine.

at age 10,
my mother pointed
At the small birth mark
On my left knee and said,
"Someone's going to love
You for that one day."

At age 16,
I told her that a boy,
One far away,
Told me I was unloveable.
"He couldn't be more wrong,"
She promised.

At age 19,
She picked up my prescription,
And cried,
"I don't want you
To get your heart broken,
Mary." She sobbed.

The empty encouragements mean nothing,
When a daughter has decided
That the need to be tragically beautiful,
Is more important than the need
To be exceptionally loved.

I was created from car crashes and cigarette smoke and alcohol and neglectful and broken parents
I was created from their hurt
I was created to be hurt
I was born unlovable
I was born not being able to love
I was born sad
I was born with a name that means to be brave
I was born with a curved spine and was made into a titanium one
I was made into long legs and unruly brown hair and green eyes and loud opinions with a soft voice
I was made to be resilient.

Thinking about you,
And not
You.

I'm obsessed with the gray space.

Obsessed with the east side.

With the jungle that grows inside what no longer
Is.

Knock, knock;
Hollow and empty
You can come back another day if you want
But you'll still find nothing.

i saw you in my sleep
and i kissed you like i couldn't breathe
but you were never mine to keep
our love just wasn't meant to be