Happiness is

cuddling with your best friend

on a snowy day

and finding that

the only emptiness inside you

is where the pain used to be

I miss Chicago.

I miss walking everywhere with my best friend.

I wish I had been brave enough to take his hand on those walks.

I miss walking with my puppy to go meet him after class.

I miss the adventures we had, and planning more adventures with him.

I miss splitting pastries and snacks and meals with him.

I miss joking with him, laughing with him, playing videogames with him.

I miss the silly little nudging game we used to play on the couch, on the train, on the bus.

I miss when our stop was near and he would turn back and offer his hand so I wouldn't fall...and he would lead me to the door before letting go.

I remember the first time he held me...I thought I would lose my mind, I thought I would cry, I thought I would die.

When I close my eyes, I can still feel how his hands felt, intertwined with mine.

I miss laying in bed with him, listening to his heartbeat and just breathing him in, his arms around me.

I remember the time he fell asleep, his arms around me, his hands in my hair, his face so close to mine.

I should have kissed him then. Instead, I confessed when he woke...and he listened to me and let me cry for what couldn't be.

I miss when he would take my face in his hands and tell me everything would be alright.

He doesn't love me. Not like that. But dear god I felt loved, oh so loved, those two weeks.

oh, beautiful one,
with the bedroom eyes
headstrong queen
of the crimson skies

seduced by kisses,
passion--lies
when, for you, will the
feather--Ma'at--rise...?

a gray sylph, a
secret slave sighs
in the wake of the
master who flies

to soothe, to love,
to elicit highs
with monochrome wings
make and unmake ties

to what end?
when deception dies
all that's left
are our broken cries...

i tried to write a poem
a poem just for You
but when i sought to find the words
like hummingbirds, they flew!

i tried to bake some cookies
a dozen, just for You
but before they hit the oven
we'd shared the yummy goo

i tried to paint a picture
a picture just for You
but the colors all ran out of line
like sunlight through the dew

i tried to plant a garden
wildflowers, just for You
but when i'd tilled and sown the soil
too tall for me they grew!

i tried to find a treasure
a treasure just for You
but when i looked inside the chest
i found a gift from You

i tried to tell a story
a mystery, just for You
but when i lost the villain's trail
'twas You who found the clue

i tried to catch some fireflies
green starlight, just for You
but you smiled, and set the lightning free
when i brought my lamp to You

i tried to find the perfect shell
a conch shell, just for You
but all i found were little stars
who tickled like You do!

i tried to find an angel
an angel just for You
but when i told her who You were
she said "you can't have two"

i tried to catch a falling star
a wish, made just for You
but when i did, You said "My dear,
all I've wished for is in you…"

i tried to write a poem
a poem just for You
this time i found all the words
to tell the world of You

I dreamed of going to a ball once, all in red and gold--like Settareh from the old tales.

Only, I had no pari to help me.

My veil was secondhand, my gown plain, and my anklets of paste and plating instead of diamonds and gold.

But there was this boy, you see.

Not a prince, not the captain of a ship or a faerie lord, not a warrior, a healer or a mage...just a boy.

And I had the barest will-o’-the-wisp’s hope that he would dance with me.

You're close;

I feel the sultry warmth of your breath caress my neck,
and the scent of your hair is an exquisite promise.

Without looking, I see the satisfaction in your eyes,

as I contemplate the delicious ambiguity of your whisper,
and bite my lip against the inevitable moan.

You smile, bestow a soft kiss upon my cheek, and walk away,

leaving me to stare after you in bewildered fascination,
my fingers pressed to the hunger you've quickened in my lips.

if I could capture every smile--
every wayward expression--
these lines would never end

for,
in a fraction of a second,
you have won my heart a thousand times over.

The first whispers of the morning are sweetest when shared with you.

Write what you feel.*

Heaven knows no one else will.

the gentle Equinox was ours
though our time together was not always so
you tasted like magic to me
and we came together with all the fiery sweetness I imagined love to be

two halves of the same coin
it was I who dried your tears
and you who held me close
and yet I am unacknowledged

you,
my mate-no-longer,
who walks the long road with another
you have already begun to forget the heart laid at your feet

yet,
when I gathered the blossoms
when I consigned my heart’s desire to the flames,
when I laid the Solstice wreath beneath my pillow

It was you I dreamt of.

where are the songs about
the wrong girl,
the not-quite-right girl,
the in-between girl?

we exist.

we tell ourselves that we are
no one's one-night-stand,
no one's rebound,
no one's flavor-of-the-week,

but
we would give anything to be
someone's last dance,
someone's first choice,
someone's only hope.

is there so much that is "wrong" with us?

we are flawed.
we are vulnerable,
we are lonely,
we are cynical and shy...

but
we are also proud,
we are strong,
we are fearless and exquisite,

and we are worth more than “happily-ever-after.”

eyes of sea
caged wingbeats
the only hint
behind the visage of indifference
the shroud that daylight imposes
and darkness disperses

for beneath lies
pain
desire
whispers of oblivion
desperation
that draws forth tears
mixing sleep and wakefulness

yet
somehow
granting more peace
than the glittering sands

To the sweet boy who can't get a read on me:

I'm sorry.

I will use you up and leave you dry...
and I think you would like to use me up too.

The problem with that is,
there's so very little left of me to use up.

So kiss me,
and try not to see the tears,
try not to taste the bitterness,
and I promise I won’t tell you his name.

Bright flame
You call
Say my name
And I fall

But had I the choice
I’d fly away
To hear Her voice
Just one more day

three woke this morning

to empty beds
empty sails
and empty days

one woke with certainty
one woke in turmoil
and one woke with tortured hope

...and that may make all the difference.

whenever I meet someone new, I inevitably check their limbs for scars.

they are almost always there, some solitary little wisps, some like a cross-hatching, a pattern, a score...

...and I find that the stories written there are irresistible, and the wounds run deeper than I can kiss.

I always fall for the broken ones, whose scars travel further than I've ever been.

it should have been you,
the one who shines and paints stories--
never the same way twice--
not the quiet one
whose eyes are like mine,
dark and bitter as spiced chocolates.

but I guess I'd had enough of bright, lovely people
who burn through you and expect you to last.

I fell for a cynic's smile and a dreamer's heart,
whose story is broken in almost all the same places as mine,
and was told whisper by whisper along hours of dusty, unlit roads,
just as my heart was given letter by letter, step by step,
over plates of antipasti and all-too-short train rides.

but I was too late;
I found my love sitting at your feet,
listening to your stories,
and waiting for the one that begins with his name.

This is life.

You learn to hide everything behind your eyes so you don't cry.
You learn to laugh at anything and everything so no one sees your weakness.
You learn that giving in means giving someone the power to hurt you.

But at the end of the day, you're just as messed up as the rest of them.
There will be days when you will lie broken at someone's feet, nights you will soak your miseries into their shoulders.

And when you've nothing left in you, you can only hope that they will hold you and kiss your eyes so you know you're still beautiful.

"...There are miracles in the way their eyes linger, wishes in hands that are kept folded to still the trembling.

There is wonder in knowing that, someday, they will never have to let go, ever again.

This is what I fight for, this is what I've waited for, this is what gives me hope for the future.

This is what's meant to be.


...But late at night, when the bed that waits for me is empty, I fold wishes in my hands, and shed tears for what cannot be."

I left your house--
the house I'd hoped would be ours--
and all I could think about is,
out of all the people in the world,
only you feel like home.

a timeless score
this darling play
no need to rehearse
we open today

cast the roles
--i'll take any part--
ply the strings
tangled in my heart

forever i'll dance
to this hollow tune
in the glare of the sun;
the caress of the moon

ink your script
--be it false or true--
say the words, my love--
say "I love you"

You mourn the vibrant innocence of youth,
to temper the bitter wisdom life has wrought;

but I would have you as you are,
for these tired eyes see what a child could not:

though I can't erase your scars
I can kiss them til you can't see the difference.

I sent off my heart today,
in folds of ink and moth's wings.

I whispered a wish and let go,
so it could flit across the waters.

When it reaches you,
will you hold it close, and set me free?

Or will you burn it,
and let my prayers rise to the heavens?

I woke up in the middle of the night,
and realized that I am more free than I have ever been in my life.

Yet,
All I want to do
is show up on your doorstep--
perhaps in one of those rainstorms you love so much better than me--
and beg you to strip the gold leaf from the bars,
because this cage I’ve built of one-way fantasies
is still better than sleeping alone,
and the gilding is all I have to offer
that could possibly compare with the brilliance of her sun.

I see a ribbon dancing
When I close my eyes
I wonder at its purpose;
Too soon the image dies

Might it thread through silken hair,
Or adorn an elegant frock?
Lace a dainty slipper,
Or flaunt a shiny rock?

Ah, I see it clear--
The purpose of this band
'tis meant to be a noose
To still this heart and hand.

Just when you think you're doing okay,
just when you think your life might finally be headed in the right direction,
someone from your past walks by in the grocery store.

They don't have to be someone who was particularly special or important to you or your life at any point.

They don't even have to be a friend.

Regardless of who they are,
they never fail to remind you that your life is not actually ok--
it's in shambles,
and suddenly that oh-so-genuine smile on your face
cuts into you like so much shattered glass,
because your life *****,

and nothing you have done up to this point can actually change it at the end of the day.

I had laid to sleep
that voice inside me who loves,
for she bleeds and bleeds and bleeds...

but you--
with your quiet words--
have woken her again.

for,
as much as she bleeds,
she would pour yet more--
a libation into the barrenness--

if you would but fill the silence.

I watch them watch each other.

They play a game of touch-and-go, and all the while the clock is counting down.

One of these days, I want to walk with them, and then take their hands and place them in each other's.

I want to tell her:

"Tell me you don't feel this. Tell me you don't want this. Tell me you don't believe in this. Tell me this isn't still the realest thing you'll ever know. Tell me you don't wake up every day hurting for this. Tell me this simplest touch doesn't make you feel whole again. Tell me the thought of letting go again doesn't scare you to death.

Because you know what?

He feels this. He wants this. And oh god does he believe in it, despite how much hell it's dragging him through. It's still the realest thing he's ever known. He wakes up every day hurting and hoping for this. I can tell you for **** sure this tiniest bit of contact makes him feel whole again, and if you let go and walk away again, it will **** him.

So, if you can tell me all that, if you can let go and not break your own heart as well as his, then do it. But do it knowing all that you're giving up this time. Do it knowing that, if this doesn't **** both of you, you'll have an emptiness inside you for the rest of your life."

I would stay for this--
and only this--
but I wouldn't stay for you.

Because

I can have this--
and so much more--
without you.

you ask me why I look at you
but never say a word
and you tease me--
with the sweetest lack of mercy--
to chase the sadness from my eyes...

but I am afraid.

I fear to shatter the essence of the warmth I feel for you.

for,
if I could tear my heart from myself,
and offer it to you,
though my hands tremble,
and my eyes fade,
and my lips turn gray with stillness,

I would--

if only to answer your question.

if only because,

"I love you"

is not enough.

You've never called me "beautiful."

...I would remember if you did.

I must needs crave
the bitter with the sweet
For, to love only your sweetness is folly...

oh, clever one
with the bass heart
for whom love
and pleasure part

drinking in my
silent screams
must you haunt
my bitter dreams?

i be yours
and i be hers
from one a kiss
from both a curse

we wait for you
one slave, one queen
fierce day, soft night
and in-between

an one is caught
but one will die
for sweetness speaks
naught but a lie

autumn lover, take my heart
if not my lonely hand
i've learned that wishes best are kept
beneath the slumb'ring sands.

autumn lover, walk with me
hold my eyes with yours
play the music we both hear
and warm my thoughts with lore...

autumn lover, share with me
a meal, a drink, a sweet--
whisper secrets i've not learned
of sustenance and heat...

autumn lover, dance with me
and find what Joy is worth--
we'll catch the tune, fixed or free,
although our steps bring mirth...

autumn lover, dream with me
lay Your soul with mine
join me 'neath the ageless tree--
our bower beyond time...

autumn lover, stay with me
though winter's chill draw near
i've laid by faith and love for thee
to last til dawn is here...

autumn lover, lost to me
but never lost to life
i'll wait a year, and seasons more,
to feel again Your light.

i miss the Boy who saved stray feathers
but never gathered dust
whose every move spoke volumes
yet never smelt of must

precious little time we stole
to be young before the dawn
how is it that now i hear
His voice in every song...?

i miss the Man who gave me peace
but helped me fight my war
who i count closest to my heart
yet distant as a star

His armor was of black and white
but even so i swear
that color flooded every mem'ry
He saw fit to share

i've often wondered who He is
or if He ever was
bittersweet and ethereal
this Dream i had of "us"...

To thy “stranger”, I would say:
Wouldst thee with flaming embers play?
What wouldst thou give me, for my lore?
A service, or gift from a distant shore?
Ah, I have it—give me a Kiss
I’ll be satisfied with this
“A trifle!" Yea, I do not jest
Since curiosity will not rest
I deem this the fairest price
For my confession of many a vice
In good faith I deign to wait—
‘til my tale is done—thy lips to sate
Sit, for though this tale is short
Thou art my guest in this misted Court

I am a child with a demon’s heart
A confection with a center ****
Through my veins runs not vampyr’s liquor
Rather, ground glass and honey are my ichor
Silk and lace may conceal the malice
But even such are stained, like a tarnished chalice
Raiment white I wear no longer
Storm and night by far are stronger

Tainted as the tainted come
Lust I’ve tasted, and then some
The sweet bite of teeth I’ve often felt
But mine own claws have more damage dealt
For how can shadows of bruises compare
To the unhealed slashes beneath my hair?

But lesser are all blades, fangs, and claws
Than the candied toxins from these tiny jaws
Words—not spells—in many tongues
Physic’ly powered by caged lungs
Caressing, weaving, setting hearts a-daze
Twisting, stabbing, fiery raze
Finally, sever, the building craze
Suffering will not this parasite faze

Their fresh hot tears—my wine
But at Death I draw the line
Darkness in an Angel’s guise
Deception, too, I despise
I can die
But cannot lie

Why so pale and trembling, my dear?
I daresay I know what will give thee cheer
Have my lips—a gift, not a payment
Into the void thy fears will be sent
Thou wilst forget all thy joys and regret
And stay for eternity, as my human pet…

How may I say this, with a face so merry?
Why, ‘tis simple—I am a faerie

You are

the sigh in every moment
the wish in every breath
the dream in every gesture
the hope that stills regret.

You fill my days with visions
my nights with thoughts aflow'r
i find myself whisp'ring plans
and counting down the hours.

...but still, through this, i wonder:
what do You see in me...?
i feel as though Your touch amends
my lack of symmetry.

she likes a little bitterness in her food
a little hunger in her kisses
a little sweetness in her tears
a little irony in her wishes

give her flowers in the street
and post Novembers on her walls
write her playlists to sleep to
and run with her when rain falls

walk the long road with her
as cruel as it may be
she will warm you to her very last--
if you would share her story.

i was born in Your sphere
You are all around me
in the rise of the moon
the set of the sun
the heart of the earth
the light of the stars

i feel only You
Your touch is in everything
in the chill of the ice
the heat of the flames
the kiss of the wind
the embrace of the sea

i play for You
my love voiced as music
in the thoughts of this song
the steps of this dance
the trill of these flutes
the hum of these strings

i ornament myself for You
may Your splendor reflect
in the ring of my bells
the chime of my anklets
the clink of my bangles
the gleam of my diadem

i don my raiment for You
may my colors speak Your truths
in the swish of my skirts
the lace of my bodice
the film of my sleeves
the drape of my veil

i dance for You
may Your grace flow through me
in the tap of my feet
the litheness of my legs
the sway of my hips
the curve of my waist

i cast my charms for You
may my motions tell Your story
in the whirl of my arms
the clap of my hands
the poise of my spine
the whip of my wings

i live for You
may my form sing Your praises
in the scent of my skin
the shade of my hair
the warmth of my lips
the glow of my eyes

i love You
You are lovely beyond silence
for Your psyche transcends all
Your heart strikes with valor
Your shape inspires awe
Your soul captures innocence

only You
Your memory endures
though my mind gather dust
my heart cease to beat
my body be ashes
my spirit flee this plane

You

in the ways of words,
it is as though
you have offered me your hand,

and all that's left
is to open my eyes
and drink deeply of you.

We're too old,
You and I,
To be showing up on each other's doorsteps late at night

We are not children,
With Forever laid out before us
like the roads of Rome

But you are a balm to my soul
And the eye in my storm
And for this
If nothing else
you will be remembered.

i dreamt of a future
in black and white
and unattainable blue

i dreamt of a world
where all was right
and the words of my lips were true

i dreamt of a child
who'll never see light
yet a name His father knew

i dreamt of a love
in day, not night
where fear had no more due.

i missed the Mythril age of high school
when Shadows graced our halls
and beautiful Boys were hailed
with every step that falls

these Boys with Angelic beauty
were Demonic in their strength
their Wit sharper than any sword
of human make or length

'twas a warrior King who led them
and others (almost) as fine
He was much revered by his people
and will be loved 'til the end of Time

a great Battle once he led
much remembered and retold
to defend the Hill of revelry
once the stronghold of the Bold

his Fighters were formed and eager
both male and Female in their Ranks
just the sight of them made most lose heart-
flee with their tails between their flanks

too soon his reign came to and end-
through the iron Gates he passed-
to his Brothers, Sisters, Lovers, Friends
He left his Legacy at the last

i missed the Mythril age of high school
of the Quiet and the Elvenfair
the Artists, Writers, Singers, Dancers-
reams of Talent esoteric and rare

i came on the edge of a transition
from the Old age to the new
i live in the age of tarnished Silver
a less forgiving hue

i was honored to be with the last of Them
before their time was done
first a willowy Queen and Princesses-
of their silver Harem i was one

our Revels we held within our Hall
for the Hill was never ours
it was held by the pitiful dregs
of the revered King's old warriors

the second Queen i was blessed to serve
was an Artist without peer
She ruled with fairness and a ready laugh
sang with a Voice so crystal clear

the Mythril few, and fewer still,
were the Silver in our Hall
there were young ones of crude Iron
to whom the majority did fall

the willow Queen's leaving had scattered
the silver Harem, far and wide
some to new schools, Mates, heart-Children-
but i stayed, for the final Mythril tide

i missed the Mythril age of high school
but found friends in those remaining
the mythril Princess i love most of all
who banished my tears without complaining

Warrior, Writer, and Dancer is She,
Healer and Songstress as well
above all, Pure and loving Friend-
and gifted with a Siren's spell

others have their own place in this tale
new heart-Brothers through Her i met
long-grad Guardians to defend Her
from whatever harm beset

all those who were my Garnet-
heart-Family, strong and true
defended, loved and gave me
a taste of Freedom's brew

now i embrace Her, the final mythril Queen
Silent Siren, Rose of Night
mea Cara, mea Regina
lady of the crimson Twilight

heart-Sister of the warrior King
alas, this realm is shorn
the Hill claimed by junkies and tramps
that blow the rutting horn

for summer's End, Autumn's breadth,
and winter's Birth she'll rule
then the iron Gates will beckon
and she , too, will leave the school

at Her side sits a beautiful Boy
last Prince of the mythril Line
my beloved Queen's heart-Brother
who'll rule for three Years' time

from Fade of winter, to fevered Spring,
'til Spark of summer-my Eighteenth year-
for Him i'll sit as Regent-queen
Failure-only one of many fears

i am but Silver and heart-Child;
umbra and amica to our Queen
He is Scion and Prodigy
on whom our simple hopes must lean

i missed the Mythril age of high school
from which this young Prince springs
perhaps He'll do what We cannot
so Mythril bells again will ring

the words come less often
the images too
the tears aren't ink
but laughter will do

it's like waking up
or being born
the lessened pain
after the storm

it's not over yet--
the damage is bleak
but no longer we fly
nor numbness seek

it's not like forgetting
or hitting your head
but still a relief
to wishing we were dead

i don't know what to call it
maybe You do?
"Hope...?" i say
You tell me "true..."

we stand alone
on a black water beach
in the gray dusk
devoid of color

it calls to you
that violent sea
and my own dark tears
trickle into the drab sand

but you take my hand
and pull me in
to drown with you
in our secrets

write a letter
read it over
and cross out
all the "my"s

because that's what
you're not:

mine

I am a child of spring
And my prime is sweetest autumn
And yet, I seek only to winter with you
To the end of our days

Never thought I'd stray from her
Never thought I'd cry to you

Never thought I'd shame her
Never thought I'd write of you

Never thought I'd chide her
Never thought I'd pray for you

Never thought I'd hide from her
Never thought I'd run to you

Never thought I'd lie to her
Never thought I'd sing for you  

Never thought I'd forget about her
Never thought I'd dream of you

Never thought I'd veil from her
Never thought I'd dress for you

Never thought I'd fight with her
Never thought I'd lay for you

Never thought I'd break her
Never thought I'd love you

Always thought I'd die for her
Always thought you would too