Entry ~
You were the first man that ever broke my heart. It was the day I was born. You held me in your arms and made me a promise that would rip us both apart. You promised to love me unconditionally from the start. But time passed and over the years those words faded from your heart. In the presence of a war when you had one foot out the door. There are vacancies in my memories where a father should have played a part. Like teaching me to drive a car, or telling me don't believe boys that say I love you from the start. Instead, I looked at every boy with tears in my eyes and willingly accepted every single lie, thinking maybe if I part my thighs they'll learn to love how broken I am inside, but they never do. Just like you they leave without a single clue and I'm left alone, used, wishing my daddy would have loved me too. And I'm not writing this to blame you, or break you, or tell you I hate you. I've made mistakes too. Ones deeply rooted in my relationship with you. And I get that maybe you didn't have a clue that your daughter was struggling in the world without you. But I relied on you to set the standard for boys I would let into my heart. By the time I was sixteen, I felt like a tortured piece of art. I learned to love myself of course. Over the years of ripping myself apart I learned to chart the darkness in my own heart. I don't blame you anymore for my broken parts. I'm healed from being angry at you. I'm writing this to tell you I'm sorry for failing you, and I'm sorry you failed me too.

As I gaze up at the sky,
I have a strange sense of deja vu.
I look beyond the moon,
and on my breath,
my soul lifts to stars
light years from here.
To cosmic worlds
of planets and galaxies.
Where blackholes breach
the edge of space and time.
Where asteroids as large as planets
travel through the Milky Way.
Occasionally,
colliding,
leaving clouds of
interstellar dust behind
in their wake.
I breathe in,
then out,
and my soul returns
on an even breath,
leaving me with just
a brief taste
of the world
from which I came.

Were you ever real at all?

The moon rises
pulling tides,
laughing at
my hearts
sweet demise.

I have moments of clarity
when I'm lost in serenity.
I see that my worth
is lying in front of me.
I'm a galaxy of stars
colliding with divinity.
I am a cosmic universe,
I know my identity.
I must clear my obscenities,
and claim my amenities.
I am a goddess of brevity,
I sing my own melody.
I have an undying empathy,
a well that run endlessly.
I'll show love to my enemies,
and leave a lasting legacy.
I'll claim my own destiny,
and rule my kingdom heavenly.

I have wasted
too many years
of my young life
wishing I had been
blessed with
a different story.
I am learning
that all life
is precious,
and that each soul
that walks this earth,
is a mere breath,
a simple expression,
of the interwoven
fabric of our universe.
We are each
a ripple in time,
and our aura
radiates energy
that travels faster
than the speed of light.
We are divine beings.
When we possess
this knowledge,
we breach
the edge of certainty,
and begin to understand
that we hold the key
to our everlasting divinity.

It hit me with surprise as I was standing there beneath a starlit sky. I was so aware of life, so aware of time that I became petrified I would never again return to my kind. But when I opened up my eyes I saw the same starlit sky, and upon this realization I began to cry. For I longed for the place with swirling lightening tides. For the home I’ll return to upon my own sweet demise.

I had a dream
that I lost you.
The night was black,
with bluish hues.
I searched,
and searched.
Screamed,
"Where are you"?
But you were gone
without a clue.
So,
I lay my head
on the grass filled dew.
When I looked up,
there were you.
Watching over me,
my ruby moon.

As I lay me
down to sleep,
I dream of you
in places deep.
I heard your voice
through a hidden door,
but you are worlds beyond
my physical form.
I wonder,
is this just a dream?
Or another world
where I will someday be?
A place where time
does not exist,
a world with
eternal bliss.

I am drowning
in oceans
of emerald,
and blue.
Your eyes,
an abyss of
no return.
I am sinking,
fearlessly,
into an
endless
ocean
of you.

My heart is more gentle,
than a delicate flower.
I cannot stand by,
and forget,
when those I care for
are fighting a war
all by themselves.
I don't believe
anyone should have to
suffer alone,
or behind closed doors.
I believe
we should open our arms,
and allow love to flow freely
from one heart to the next.
I believe
in being there,
regardless of time,
regardless of mistakes.
I believe in understanding.

I lay awake at night,
and curse at the moon.
I wish I could speak to you,
but you are beyond my sweet tune.
I know when I sleep,
it's the only time I reach you.
You always meet me halfway,
on the dark side of the moon.
I wish I could remember,
what happens when I dream.
I know that I'm with you,
I can feel it when I wake.
It's like you've been holding me,
torn with wanting me to stay,
but you know it's not my time yet,
so you beckon me to wake.
I miss you so much,
at the first light of day,
but I know I'll meet you again,
it's a feeling I can't shake.

Insecurities
burn her from inside.
I can see it in her shy timid eyes.
The way they dart and hide
masking confidence
with white little lies.

His eyes burn like fire,
but mine are as cool as ice.

Stupid girl.
Frail and weak.
How easily
you are swayed
by expectations
held so high
over your
*pretty
little
head.

I love you more
than the sun
loves the moon,
and I miss you so much
when I'm watching
the flowers bloom.
I look at the lilacs,
the lillies,
and lavender.
Their blossoms blooming,
despite the cold dew.
They remind me of you
with their purplish hue,
how you are so pure,
but always feeling blue.
I wish you were here,
your shy smile in bloom.
It lights up my world,
like the sun warms the moon.

Freedom hangs
like heaven
over the hearts
of arrogant men.
They have
forgotten freedom
always comes
at a price.

I drove across the country.
I've seen landmarks and monuments
laid out before me
in every passing state.
I've seen the Arapaho National Forest
with the Colorado River
running between its canyons.
I've seen the arches of Utah,
and the dinosaur tracks
left behind in the Red Cliffs.
I have traveled
over three thousand miles
from east to west,
and I have not seen it all.
It is often forgotten
how truly massive this country is.
It seems so small
from the comfort
of our little lives
in separate states.
It is far from small.
It is an enormous chunk of land.
It stretches for days on end,
and every part of it
is breathtakingly beautiful.
This country has left its
mark on my heart.
I will never forget
this experience.
I will never forget
what this road has taught me.
I may be going home,
but I am not returning
the same as I was.
I have seen too much.
I have seen more than
I ever could have
in my tiny New York town.
This trip has ignited
a fire within my soul.
I will see what the rest
of this world has to offer.
I will chase the setting sun,
and move until
the stars fall behind me.
I may be going home,
but the flame within my soul
will light my way
to my next adventure.
I've tasted freedom,
I'm never going back.

I'll cross the desert,
and climb the mountain top.
I'll sit up high,
and watch the sun
sink low in the sky.
I'll wait until dark,
when all is still,
when the moon is bright,
and shining full.
I'll write down a wish,
and burn it up,
then pray to the moon
to give me luck.
I'll coax her sweetly
to take my love,
to take it,
and give it right to you.

I dreamt of you
in clouds of blue,
and woke
when the clock
struck two.
I looked to see you
through hues of violet,
standing in the springtime dew.
She was there above you
kissing you softly,
and calming your midnight woos.
She knows your desires,
and pulls at your heart
she is a goddess
to the darkness in you.
I can not compete
for your heart
she does keep
above with the
stars in the sky.
I know how you love her,
her beauty
like no other
I can see it in
your emerald eyes.

She will roam,
from coast to coast,
and she will love you,
but like a ghost,
she'll leave without a trace,
and you won't even
be left with a name.

If you want
to capture a gypsy,
dance with her
beneath
the crystal moon.
There she cannot hide
behind her tricks and lies,
and if you gaze
lovingly
into her eyes,
and hold her heart
to the moonlit sky,
she will be yours
until the
end of time.

The night of
the harvest moon
was the night
I fell for you.
You held me,
kissed me,
and whispered
you loved me.
You pulled
me close,
and gently
brushed my lips.
You whispered,
"Are you ready"?
"Yes"
I whispered back.
You kissed me,
and I let you in.

I see beyond the darkness
that lays behind your hazel eyes.
It's not something
you can hide,
like summer storms,
and sad goodbyes.
It's there all the time.
It lights up
the midnight sky,
and strikes like lightening
with a deafening cry.

Entry ~
*I wonder what people see when they look at me. A girl with hazy eyes too tired to see? With ***** blonde hair, skinny legs, wearing an over sized black tee. A girl that smokes a lot of ****, and drinks way too much tea. Maybe they see the written travesty of me. Heard the stories of my early identity. How I used to be so easy and naive. Got down on my knees for the simplest "please" from boys who never gave a **** about me. It's no surprise I swore off boys when I was seventeen. Of course it didn't last. Girls never did it emotionally for me. And I wonder how much of this is perceived when people look at me. I can usually see it in their eyes. When buzzing questions of my puzzling past arise. I can read between the lines. I know everyone wants to know why. But there are no simple answers I can give to ease anyone's mind. My past isn't something I care to hide. I'm only human, and we all have a darkness inside. It took a long time to repair my pride. Something that shines bright through the haze in my eyes. I'm not ashamed. I know that I'm kind, and I've heard stories way worse than mine. I'm grateful and healed with a wonderful life. I've made mistakes, but shame is only relevant for a certain amount of time. I want people to see that when they look in my eyes. See that I'm living proof in the complexity of life. I'm the girl with hazy hazel eyes. With tight black leggings and a gap between my thighs. I have a tarnished reputation, and a silent observant eye. Even when I'm silent I'm fully present in mind. If you see me on the streets feel free to say hi, and don't worry I won't bite if you dare ask me why.

With every act of certainty
I reclaim my identity.
I deserve to be here.
My past does not own me.
My mistakes do not define me.  
I am whole in my brokenness
— blossoming slowly
into my new found freedom.
I am finally whole
—battle wounds and all
there is nothing
that can stop me now.

Art
is a way
of survival.

It repairs the heart.

Your eyes
scorch holes
into the depths
of my soul.
I'm staring into
the eyes of hell,
but,
on the surface,
I am cool,
calm,
and collected.
I refuse
to buckle
beneath
the heat
of your
fury.

Entry ~
By the pit of a black hole. That's how it'll happen. By the flick of a lighter, and a burnt up spoon tucked away in the corner. A half *** attempt to be discreet. It'll sit there. Staring at you, haunting you, taunting your very existence. By the death of a friend you called your family. A stupid, avoidable death at the hand of ***** needle. That's how it'll happen. You'll look up one day, at the bottom of a hole you can't remember falling into. You'll climb, and climb, clawing your way to the top. Desperately slipping back down every time you make headway. It's a hopelessly dark place. It's the kind of place that stays with you forever. Even if you're lucky enough to claw your way out for good. It's the kind of place that leaves you void of love. It's a place for broken down souls. For desperate addicts turning tricks just to get their fix. You'll find yourself there, alone. Cold. You'll find yourself wishing it all back. Wishing you never took that one little hit, never sniffed that innocent little line. You'll hate yourself for thinking just this one time, because you knew it was a lie the second it crossed your mind. You just didn't want to believe it. It was a choice. Falling to the bottom of this hole. You made it the second you chose to say yes that very first time. It was the moment you sold your soul to the devil. A signature scribbled half heartedly on a piece of charred up tinfoil. It was a choice, and you knew you were making it. It's the worst part about being this kind of addict. You know you'll die eventually. Just like that friend you called your family, but nothing is enough to make you stop. The opiates leave you hollow. A shell of a person that used to love. You'll find yourself so empty. You don't care about your family, or those friends still around that don't **** with what you're doing. You can remember a time when you were so close to them. So different. Still an addict, but just circling the rim of that hole you're in now. You weren't addicted to those drugs, but you were on your way. It was those friends that kept you in the light. That kept you from falling into those harder drugs. They were a lifeline. A silver string hanging from the stars. You held on for so long. Every time you looked down you got so scared. It was a long way to the bottom, but you had scissors in your hand the whole time you were hanging on. At a certain point, you got weak, and cut that silver cord. You fell so far down, and at the bottom of that hole, sitting in the corner to comfort you, a burnt up soon and a white bic lighter. You traded in your lifeline. It was no longer your friends that could bring you back to the light. It was a bag of tar, and a silver spoon. It was a choice, and when the day comes when you say you're getting clean, you'll reach for the hands that used to be there. Out spread, patiently hanging there waiting for you to grab them, and they won't be there.

The years of tye dye,
and silky straight hair,
of stupidity,
and insecurity fears,
of pro Ana scares,
and late night dares.
The years of coffee,
and menthol cigarettes,
anything to keep
the dial on the scale
from moving forward.
I remember those years
crystal clear,
girls wandering the halls,
books in hand,
feet dragging behind them,
bodies moving,
with vacant eyes,
and soulless attitudes.
I was one of those girls too.
I wandered the halls,
like a ghost trapped between
two halves of tainted glass.
I was dead inside,
consumed by insecurities
that hovered around me like flies.
It was hard
to be a girl.
It was hard
to walk those halls
with shame carved in
to porcelain skin,
to walk those halls
with eyes reading
the canvas of my skin,
the story written
between showing ribs.
It was torture,
to starve with a smile
shining on my face like gold,
but so many of us did it.
It was sink or swim.
It was four years
of brutal judgement
by peers hiding
behind blue screens.
It was four years
of petty remarks,
each one a pin poked
straight through the heart.
It was 1,460 days
of crying on the bathroom floor,
of starving just to make
the pain go away,
of chances for someone
to tell you
it was going to be okay,
eventually.
I remember those years.
I remember thinking
the pain was never
going to go away,
and even after
I left that place,
it didn't go away,
not completely.
It just got easier
to wake up each morning,
knowing I didn't
have to walk the halls
with all those eyes,
watching,
waiting for my demise.
It got easier to live,
to remember what it meant
to love who I am.
It got easier to recover,
to eat without feeling,
like I only deserve hunger.
It just got easier,
because high school is torture.
It's not worth it
to let it take over,
to let their words
linger in my ears
like a crack of deafening thunder.
It's not worth it
to be afraid of their thunder,
because I am lightening.
I hold the power.
I'll burn bright,
and make them
run for shelter.