Most late summer days fade into night holding a tepid dreariness in their breath, beating away with the tedium of the sun from late July through early September.
Yet ephemeral as it may be, the life of early summer is purely sanguine in the face of its oncoming age, as willowy saplings sway in the blustering breezes of June, and sprouts of vivid animation appear all around.
This is when the soul heals, and out of the mulch rises new beginnings and the ripening fruit of various works.

In this early season of summer, many taciturn inhabitants of the flourishing earth made their home, and among them, Lily: a creature of reticence and intricacy.
She burgeoned in attitude and character as days crept forward, extending her limbs upwards in an eternal paean to the heavens― as such was her sinecure and quiet delight.

In this, she stood insular to her ubiquitous family, an outsider to the sisters who flitted about carelessly on the wind, satiny gowns of pink and yellow billowing as they twirled.
Always invited into the fray, Lily was evermore stalwart in her choice to keep out of their plainly sordid affairs.

Yet in her isolation, the night whispered to her many a berceuse.
The sleepy stars implored of Lily’s indolent nature as she gazed into their eyes, trailing across eternity into peaceful slumber.
The night sky held wonders and questions that filled her paltry existence but placed her in stasis with the decorated heavens of her dying season,
Left to wither away with the insidious heat and vibrant splendor of late summer evenings.

Beautiful things
come to mind
when i think of you.

Lovely colors in faded hues,
smiles, grass, skateboards,
sunlight, bike rides, sneakers,
memories of times
that have never happened.

You have caused me
fantasy beyond the extent
of my former imagination,

it is a mystery
shrouded by
the possible and the plausible.

How will we end?
Are you just my friend?

I don't know yet.
I'm not sure , but
I think i might...

I think i might...

... I think i may be capable
of loving you.

Today is a good day for creation. It is a mellow day.
The light filters through my window, soft and grey.
It is eleven thirty in the morning, not quite noon, but still hazy,
like it should be early.
Like nothing has happened yet, but something is coming.
Something good is going to happen.
I want to sit and sing and listen to music and create. Write. Paint.
Play music with my untalented hands.
I have the drive, that imagination, but i can't think of anything that fits in this time, so i am describing what i am feeling.
It is nothing special, but it is everything and anything special all at once.
A moment when i just want to lay down and look at the sky,
Lay on may back and stare at the clouds.
I get that feeling a lot. Mostly during spring.
But now it is autumn.
Perhaps it is a coping mechanism.
I want to be a great writer, but how can i be a great writer when nothing i write is great, or memorable, or organized?
I cant even produce decent prose when in a perfect environment.
And when i can't focus i just get caught up in my thoughts and i can't do anything about it and i am so...
I am so...

so nothing.
And nothing i ever write makes sense.

He feels like sharing memes and finishing burritos; like snuggling on a bench when I'm shivering and letting me wear his jacket the wrong way. He feels like long phone calls and sarcastic remarks; like feeding ducks, and helping kids, and going kart racing, and being terrible at Mario kart. He feels like silly puns and bad humor, all the while still putting butterflies in my stomach. He feels like the heat in my cheeks when my classmates ask me about where my bracelets came from, and the pride in my heart when they say that he's cute. He feels like kissing in a park, holding hands next to fireworks,  and giggling at the movies. He feels like sunshine and Rex Orange County. He feels like home, like someone who will always be able to make me smile, like someone who will endure a hug even if its awkward.

But he also feels like crying at 10pm in my room on Thanksgiving and clutching my chest because I can hardly breathe.  He is in every sad song I've ever heard, and every depressingly artful photo I see. He is the bittersweet memory of a lost young love, and the fractured, splintery aftermath of trying to recover. He is sitting in a park alone for an hour, crying because you dont know if he's even going to come.  He is the anxiety of being ignored for three weeks, then showing up to a party I'm at. He is the tear stained pillowcase from every time he has asked, "are you a waste of my time?" -- each one a separate fist to the stomach. He is the fear of never knowing what is going on in his mind and the constant worry of not being enough. He is the sadness and frustration of every Sunday morning with an empty chair. He is the moments I lie on the cold wood of my bedroom floor in the greying sunlight, salt mixing with my hair, and feeling empty. He is like the ache between my ribs everytime I'm left on read.

But he still feels like home, and he still feels like the only love I've ever known. And it's all about how it feels, right?  And it's okay as long as he doesn't hurt those feelings...

Right?

I get too attached
I loved her so much
I wish I could be with her always
To give her hugs
All the hugs
To stargaze
And stay up until three just talking
To lie in a hammock eating
hot Cheetos and necco wafers
And to share secrets and problems
like they are nothing
To experiment with makeup
And to watch her fall asleep
in the bunk next to me
To sit in understanding silence
To hold my hand
Even sometimes sharing pants
To laugh about the boys we chase
To slowly watch her walk away
The best friend I've ever known
Has gone and left me all alone.

I dream of you at night;
You visit me alone.
I’d join you in the sky
If I weren’t a stone.

My heart is made of rock
Each limb is carved from lead
A single push could knock
The quartz eyes from my head

But you are like a flower
Basking in sun rays
You’re lighter every hour
At twilight, fly away.

I dream of you each night;
Your visits help atone
The sins that weigh me down
You chip away the stone

Angel of the garden,
Please grant me your pardon.

you know that thing you find in life
and never want to let go?
well, i think i found mine
by the sea out in the cold.

and it did not take me long to know
that i cannot live without it.

running down the street
eyes glinting
illuminated by street lamps and stars
breathing hard

but consequences are temporary.

climbing shaky trees
ripping jeans
28 missed calls from my mother
but time with one another

because consequences are temporary.

gazing into black night skies
looking at your sea green eyes
the worst fall i've taken
so if i'm not mistaken,

maybe not all consequences
are temporary.

you make me do things
i know i should not do
and with the beat of thrill
i'll loose my rationale

because at least some consequences
are temporary.

Glossy lips, strawberry hued
Waiting for the car to come,
Waiting for a ride.

Maroon stripes, burgundy shoes
Waiting for the rain to come,
Waiting, cold, inside.

Warm hands, uncomfortable feet
Sitting in the liar's chair
Sitting all alone

Teary eyes, emblazoned cheeks
Sitting on the convict's chair
Sitting with my bones

"He makes me smile."
Isn't that quite the statement?
The overly stated
Overrated
Label slapped on affection
For someone who makes a laugh.
But in what direction,
with what affection,
Does a mere smile
Lead a relationship
Into the future?
Will it go the miles required?
And are you sure
That smile
Will last the time
That you are together,
Even if it is forever?
Looking​ for potential mates
Perhaps it is important
To observe more traits
Than comedy
For longevity
You need more than just jokes.
Humor in no way means brevity,
Yet if it is the primary basis
For your affection
It is rash, dumb, and juvenile
Because he needs to care
That you deserve more
Than just a smile.

Looking at you gives me joy,
It cannot be expressed.
For when I look into your deep blue eyes,
I know that I am blessed.

I might be extroverted,
Many people might know who I am,
But you're the only one who truly sees
Me open up instead of clam.

I have built a wall so large
To cover up my sin
It used to keep me safe,
But now I’ve been locked in.

But you have come to set me free
Amidst of all my shock,
And just as i thought my time was up,
You’ve seemed to stop the clock.

You’re a jewel in any case,
Shining brighter than the sun,
But you can also be pure metal,
Sleek and fatal as a gun.

And this is why I love you,
My one and only friend,
You gave that horrible wall around me
An even more terrible end.

We may be years and miles apart
And meet but twice a year,
But as long as we stay connected,
Its as if you’re with me here.

I'm mad.
Angry.
Why wont you
Respond to me?
All I've done is support you;
All you do is ignore me.
Is my anger justified?
Probably...

not.

I don't want your pretty words,
I don't want your charming eyes,
I don't want your smooth approach,
I don't want your blatant lies.
The truth is that I want it all,
Every single bit.
But the truth is that it's all a front,
And nothing ever fits.
I want to hear your small talk
I want to see your tears
I want to sit close at your side
I want to stay for years.
But the truth is that you're killing me,
Every single bit.
The truth is that I come running back,
Even after every hit.
I don't want to be hurt by you
I don't want to have to cry
I don't like the way you're treating me
But I'll love you until I die.
The truth is soon, I'll have to go,
And make the end of it.
But in truth, I still love your soul,
Every single bit.

I am sad
And my words have abandoned me
The force that once inspired greatness
has sapped all creativity out of me,
And i am left with fragments.
Worthless, bland, incomplete phrases,
that mean nothing to me or anyone else,
Are all that i can dream up and release.
I am sad, and i am stuck with no way to get rid of it.
No words fit.
They are metallic and clunky in my mouth,
shoving their way between my tongue and teeth,
they are braces on my emotions: painful, sharp, and wide,
Leaving a tinny aftertaste,
Smelling of copper and dirt.
They are not beautiful or sweet like the words that i once had.
They tumble gracelessly from my lips
and clatter onto the keyboard without rhyme.
I am sad,
and my cheeks are bulging,
Nonsense words fill my throat and nostrils.
Soon i will not be able to speak at all.

I want to write music;
I can do it.
But i can’t,
Because nobody will listen,
And i don’t know how.
But the melodies bubble inside me
Making me sick,
And i want to get them out,
But i don’t know how.
So i hum
So i mumble
So i listen to other people's creations,
Hoping one day to have my own
But knowing i wont.

Dreaming in colors
I didn't dream of before
Everything has a softer edge to it
No more sharp corners
No more crisp lines
Just you, and the colors of spring
Hues of soft, dusted skies
And deep, cold grass.
Long sunsets and dark mornings.
Why do you make me think of spring?
Or is spring my romanticism at play?
Why does the thought of you make me nostalgic
When i don't share that many memories with you yet?
It's like i'm floating in a world of nothing
While watching everything from afar.
My vision is coated in lip gloss
Sweet, sticky, and shiny,
Clouded over by the lollipop dreams
And cotton ball clouds.
This isn't how i think when i see you
But when you're gone, i get lost,
Drowning in the thought of what if’s,
Of ideals, and ideas that won’t exist anywhere else
Except for in my mind,
In my little, gloss coated world.

Love is an odd phenomenon
It was what i used to live for
And now i run from it
But it has me cornered
And i don’t know how to escape.
I’m drowning.

it creeps in through the corners
through the places where walls and ceiling meet
where the floorboards creak
and drafts of icy breath stroke your neck.

it creeps up through the carpet
through the the places where rugs cover the old oak floors
where grandmother's crocheted mat is getting worn
and little dusties hide from the harsh daylight.

it crawls out from inbetween your teeth
between the lips and tongue and the molars that fell out
and now the dry, empty cavity of your mouth
hangs sallow and barren.

Every day, I wake up.
Everyday, I must prepare myself for what  lies ahead.

The first step into the chill morning air always bites,
But not a much as the stares of my classmates.
The pain of my sprained ankle screams,
But not as much as the voices in my head.
The blast of my music hurts my ears,
But not as much as the whispers do.
The exhaustion makes me want to cry,
But not nearly as much as the stress.

Everyday I enter,
Everyday I leave.

Friends joke about the pressure I have on me,
But they have no idea.
People question why I always have my notebook,
But they don’t try to understand.
Teachers are upset when I miss assignments,
But they don’t know what’s truly missing.
My instructors tell me to sing my heart out,
But it seems I no longer have a voice.

Everyday for eight hours I face my greatest fears.
Everyday for twenty-four, people don’t know I have them.

All I’ve ever really wanted was a hand to hold.
There were times where I was reaching,
But everyone was too busy, too tired, too old.
Finally a lone hand sunk down into my sea
And I clutched it so tight
That I almost dragged it down with me.

In fear and panic
I let it go,
So I wouldn’t wreck its chances.
So here I still wait, regretting my choices
And making hopeful glances.
I'm searching for a hand,
But slowly my arm is weakening.
This is not what I had planned.

And that sad part is I know
If I again found a hand to hold,
I be too exhausted to hang on.

Starry nights
Endless
an unfathomable depth to the skies
Yet the stars,
They feel so close
Like fairy dust
Twinkling
And i feel like
I feel like i could touch them
Reach
Reach
Dip my fingers in their glow
Swirl them in the galaxies
Stir the milky way
And you,
Lying next to me
on the cold,
hard asphalt,
Smile.
Come dip your fingertips
in the night’s wonder
With me.
Come,
Let your mind wander
With me.
Put your free hand
In mine
And we’ll swim through
Galaxies.
Come,
Dream with me.

I wrote you a poem
That you asked to read,
And I said
Maybe Someday
But i never let you
Anywhere near it.

I wrote you 37 poems.
And You only ever
Knew of one.
And You forgot
I even wrote it.
And I have forgotten what it said.
But five months later
I still fear it.

Crunchy, Bitter, sour, sharp, simmering.

Luminescent, iridescent,
Shiny, sparkling, shimmering,
Glitzy, glimmering, glittering

Garbage.

raindrops roll down my shoulders
as tears stream down my face.
the comfort of the water
is familiar, yet strange.

the chill sinks through my bones,
sharp and freezing to the core.
yet i welcome it with open arms,
the old friend from long before.

now everything is black and grey,
and my soul itself is numb.
i hope the pain will end today,
and the suffering will be done.

please let it end today,
please let it be done.

It’s so difficult to look at you
When you talk about our future.

When we laugh about growing old
Or more adventures in the cold.

To fantasize about the type of parents we’ll be
And how i’ll spill the family tea.

Or if you get married, and i don’t
I’ll be your kids crazy aunt.

About how we’ll share our entire life.,
And joke about being my backup
if i’m not married by thirty five

And all these futures that we make
Based of old memories that ache.

They look like a hope for the new
life i’ll be sharing with you.

Then college letters come in.
And ink drains from my pens,

'cause I’m just scribbling to preserve our youth.

Because we both know the truth.

Do you ever feel homesick for a place that's not your home?
Or homesick for a place
That you've never been?
Maybe you've already left it,
maybe you'll never get in.
Or homesick for a person?
For the embrace of another?
Homesick for someone far away,
For a best friend or a brother?
That person that you love so much you cannot live without,
And even though there are miles between,
You never face a doubt.
Never doubted that they love you,
Never doubted that they'll be there.
Never doubted there's a place for us all,
Even if we don't know where.

Her presence twists inside me
Like poison and vines.
It strangles me
From the inside out.

It pushes up my throat
And spills my insides,
That cascade to the floor
In a mess of emotion.

Dry heaving, choking,
On my own lies.
Driven insane by
The ones I’ve believed.

She torments me,
Ripping my morale to shreds.
She scatters what is left,
Spreading out the tatters.

Her purpose is my demise,
Her dream in my insanity.
She goes by many names,
But here her title is “Guilty.”

people have told me that i ask too many questions.

Is it wrong to seek the truth
or even just to wonder?
to see the beauty of the world
and stop to sit and ponder?
to think of something thats never been thought,
or to discover a deeper meaning to things,
to inquire if people can feel what you're feeling
is apparently a crime
when you ask "why?"

I don’t know, but
You seemed to
Actually
Care about me
About my state
Of being.

You were afraid for me
Do you love me?

I don’t love you,
yet.
I think i’d like to.

But thank you for
Actually caring
Because worrying
Is something
He’d never do.


Maybe he’d give me
An “aw, man that *****”
Or a “feel better soon”

Not an immediate
“oh f*ck
"what happened,
“Oh my god,
"Are you okay?”
He'd give me
No clear concern
No, “as long as you’re safe.”

Thank you for caring.
It helped me make my decision.
Thank you for caring.
it helped me actually listen
To what zoe had to say
And made me wonder
If it’s true that,

You know,

Maybe
it wouldn’t be
Such a bad thing
For me
to love you
If maybe
You love me too.

dark thoughts creep where they are unwanted
undesired ideas
flood the empty cavities within my skull
black.
white.
Gray.
it seems as if the color has drained from life
deep greens and rich blues
no longer paint the world
instead I am left with
black.
white.
and Gray.

A rat's nest
Is a big mess
But not to the rat who lives there.

But in the opposite way,
My mind these days
        Is a mess;
But not to those who don’t live here.

No,
I’m not saying I love you
In American Sign Language.
Obviously,
I'm pretending to be
Spiderman.

I guess that’s what love is-
Caring for someone.
I mean, really caring about someone
Caring about how their day was, caring about how they feel
Caring about what makes them happy and what makes them reel.
So yeah I love you.
But not in the romantic sense
But not really like you’re just my friend.
I love you in a different way, not like a sister or a mother, either.
Like a Best Friend, maybe.
But, like the best friend you could ever have.
A comrade?
I don’t know, but I love you
In some weird, strange, confusing, caring way,
I do.
And I want to be able to smile with you.
And cry with you
And just hang out with you.
I...
I...

I don’t love you, haha.
Can’t you tell?
I’m just using the ASL
That you taught me
To say that I’m spiderman,

But my own web had caught me.

he may love me,
he may not.
pluck the petals and
watch them rot.

those leaves of three,
let them be.
don't be who they
think they see.

i just read as stupid story
about a man,
some songs,
and a pearl.

within its ninety pages i heard
a song of family,
a song of evil,
and a lesson of the world.

it told of the malignant fate
of a man,
a baby,
and a girl.

and evil stole an innocent life
because a sting
a doctor,
a rifle,

and a pearl.

Dear Friend…
I don’t know where to start.
Memories come to mind
Of how you stole my heart.

You didn’t ask.
No question or please.
Just sauntered in and took it,
Apparently with ease.

I’ve tried to get it back so hard,
Fought you countless times,
And yet my heart is tied to yours
A foreign feeling, but sublime.

I don’t know why it had to be this way
To always feel alone,
Because my background and my habits
I’ve stayed secluded as I’ve grown.

Of all the lies I’ve told myself,
This is surely one,
I swore I’d never have a friend,
But now look what you’ve done.

Your soft smiles make me smile too
Never ceasing to have beauty.
And the way you protect me from my fears
As if it is your duty.

And when you are filled to the brim
With tears that spill and shine,
Even when days are looking grim,
Know that you’ll be fine.

Lucy to my Ethel,
Mountain to my dew,
So my dear partner in crime,
Know I’ll never leave you.

Never forsaken never forgotten
Never will your days be rotten,
For if I love you and  you love me,
We’ll fill up our lives with memories.

The good and bad,
The pleasure the pain,
Through brightest sun
And darkest rain,

My friend,
I’ll be there for you.
So please say that
You’ll never leave me, too.

Little typing fingers
That should be tucked in bed
Are wide awake and nervous
Picking apart their head

Little twitching fingers
That should be staying still
Claw at all hair and clothing
Against an act of will

Little tapping fingers
That should be calm and cool
**** frantically across
Every desk at school

Little skipping fingers
That should control themselves
Find different ways to torment
Both the soul and shell

Little dancing fingers
That should pay their respects
Jump from their gloves and pockets
Tearing sequins from their dress

Little frozen fingers
That were never still before
Have found the cure to keep them
From freaking anymore

why do we even have memories
or are even able to remember?
we forget the nicest things
but can recall the greatest offender.
the blink of an eye,
a cell's neuron wave,
that's how fast you can lose a whole day.
why can people remember what i can't?
why do our brains partake in this dance?
losing, forgetting,
creating, remembering,
what a mystery is the mind.

Things people say,
Things people do,

Why do they do them?

Things that I say,
Things that I do,

Why do I do them?

Everyone has a theory,
A thought, a notion,

But I have none.

Everyone has a will,
the desire to be free,

But where is their soul?

A reason to do,
A reason to say,

An explanation,
A truly free nation,

At what cost do these things come?

It’s not truly about the cost,
Or is it?

No.
It’s about if you’re willing to pay it.

“My love, come with me,” she whispered.
“Would you abandon this life with me?
To Explore the world courageously?
Or will you stay here.
Here,  where the rest of those who judge us,
The ones that call us different, stay.”

“My dear, But that would be cowardice,” he returned.
“Would you live here in this place with me?
To fight against discrimination and ridicule?
Or will you go?
Running from your problems like the wind,
As you always have before.”

Everything is perspective, we are told,
From your attitude to your observations.
If your glass is half empty or half full,
It still has something in there for you.

What you do with it is your choice.

Do you ever look at the trees and think
About how
they wouldn’t be alive without the sun
Do you ever feel the breeze and think
About how
It wouldn’t exist without the sea?
I do.
And Every day i look in the mirror and think
About how
You’d probably be better off without me.

you know,
they say
everything will be
okay
they’re lying,
lies are easy to believe
when truth is hiding

Of all the things you make me think of
I wouldn’t have imagined it to be the sky
I have fallen in love with your depths
But still admire your beauty from afar
I may never truly understand you
But i’ll try with all of my heart.


Another day, another song i’ve written for you
Another thought, another page,
Another journal entry or two.
Of all the beauty and wonder of the sky
Sometimes the clouds turn black
And they can't help but cry
For days on end, sometimes it will rain.
For days on end, I‘ll miss you again.


A laugh, a joke, a smile or two
Of all the jokes we have come to share
This biggest joke here is me.
The sky may not always be beautiful
But is wonderful beyond all that compares.
And while you’re not perfect
You’re way out of my league.
I don’t even know what you see in me.
But in you i see the sky
So im grateful that for now you’re my guy
And i guess you can call me your girl for a while.

As winter faded, you faded away
And I floated away from you
Bright colors of spring against rainy grey;
Tearing my conscience in two.

The seasons, they whisper of change
But the hearts, they long to stay same.

Mellow adobe brick roofs
Lost in a sea of bleached blue;
The wind in the willow leaves blew
As I floated away from you.

All of the branches, they sway
Slow to a lullaby’s tune
As winter faded, you faded away
And the wind whisked me away too.

The seasons, they whisper of change
But the hearts, they long to stay same.

Crumbling adobe brick roofs
Drown in a sea of bleached blue;
On the wind, the willow leaves flew
And they tore me away from you.

A break.
My mind needs a
Break.
Is it already broken,
But it needs a break
In the other context
That broken can make.

Too full.
The backpack of my consciousness is too
Full.
Its ripping at the seams
And making me dull
Because the papers jammed into the depths
Make threads start to pull

And the tangent will continue
Until the string is cut,
And i will be blue
Until streets turn red,
I’m losing my head,
I’m already lost,
I’d feel better dead,
But its not worth the cost.
Where is my brain ,
Where did she go?
The girl you once new,
Who you used to know,
Is going insane,
Is going through pain,
And all she needs is

A break.

My mind needs a
Break.

Were so similar
But were so different.
I like cheesy shows,
You kinda hate em.
I’m always busy
And you take it all slow
You have time to be bored or miss me;
I miss you because I’m on the go.
You stay stagnant
As I swing through highs and lows
In our behaviours,
We vary even more
You, relaxed, sass queen
Me, the girl that jibes for sport.
I'm loud and demanding
You're sometimes quiet
But when we're together
You're wild, and i like it
Baby were so different,
Can't you see?
But even with our clashing
You're the only one for me
Oh, we're not that different
As we seem,
Cause in what is important
We've got similarities
You love music
I love to sing
You love to dance,
And i love performing
I love to joke
You've called me mean
You're a bit older,
I'm still seventeen
You love skating,
So do i
You love the ground
And I'm in love with the sky
You love the day,
And i love the night
You love your mother,
Please hold her tight
I love the beach, you hate the sand
I hate the ocean,
But not if you hold my hand.

there is meaning in a name
and a name for meaning;

you undoubtedly share one
with someone.

everything has a name:
cat, car, box, keys,

Hannah, Sarah,
Jacob, Aaron.

if we all have names
and names all have meaning,

what is the purpose of a name
if you have no purpose at all?

without a thought,
anything can mean nothing.

and nothing
can mean everything.

I need to stop feeling so indifferent
I need to find a new hobby
I need to be a happier person
I need to let my emotions drown me

I need air
I need news
I need help
I need you

I need to stop crying when I look in the mirror
I need to stop thinking things are all fine
I need to face that simple cold truth
I need to remember you are no longer mine

I need air
I need news
I need love
But not from you

To call it love already would be in haste.
But this feeling you give me is no mistake,
Although your eyes are glued to the ground
My head is stuck in the clouds.
You make my days unimaginably sunny,
And you make the most mundane statements funny
I don't know the origin of this feeling sublime
But it must come from knowing you're mine.
We're young and terrible at these things
But darling it's okay as long as we can dream.
I have no idea if these feelings will last
Because sometimes good things are gone fast
And you’re the best thing I’ve had in awhile
Everytime you cross my mind i can't help but smile
With a spring in my step everywhere i walk
People have told me i’m happier when i talk
You make me think of all the pretty things
Blue skies, green leaves, all in spring
Darling, you don’t see the way you affect me
But because of you i can be happy.