I am a star gazer, too.
I gaze at him, in all of his starry forms.
The form that is a glint in the sky,
so far up, that no one can bring him down
while he works on what gives him another form--
the super-star.
A label that is rightful to him,
given to him because of
his shiny, ethereal words.
And lastly, and more importantly,
he is a sea star.
Being thrown around in this big, stupid ocean.
He clings to his rocks but sometimes
the waves are too rough
and a piece of him is brutally torn off,
as he has told me, happened recently.
Have no fear, Star.
Because everyone knows that sea stars regenerate quickly.
You will forever be,
floating,
shining,
growing,
Star Gazer.

I've been so healthy.
Three meals a day
keeping them down,
keeping on track.
Don't let me go back there...
don't let me go back

Yes, I'm still eating--
away at my brain.
Feeling gross and
feeling fat.
Don't let me go back there!
Don't let me go back...

I love my hair,
I love my nails,
I hate this extra weight.
I value my heart,
but not my stomach
stop thinking before it's too late!

Worry and worry
I'm counting again
every bite and
every snack..
Please!
Don't let me go back there!
don't let me go back!

I keep feeling
I'm going to puke
and that maybe
I should act--
NO!
Don't let me go back there!
Don't let me go back!

I've been exercising and
that's good.
But slow results
make me sad.
Don't let me go back there...
don't let me go back.

Why do I want to hug strangers all the time?

I just cry and cry sometimes not to be near them.
Those pictures, those old, old pictures just get to me so bad.
And I'm a sobbing mess on my bed.
My grumpy grandma Debbie.
My goofy grampa Tony.
My precious big cousin Jestin.
My baby, oh god my baby... 3 year old Conor.
My family, who helped my mother and I so much
in our rough times.
Took me in and
really really loved me.
In their little old beat up house that I love so much.
"Mermaid" tuna sandwiches made from grampa,
and sloppy joe's with plastic cheese from grandma
were delicacies.
Blowing bubbles with Jestin, digging that huge hole with Jestin, and laying on the back step with my eyes closed in the sun, were my most favorite things.
Still would be.
Thousands of miles cannot weaken
the magnetic pull that I will always feel toward them.

If I had a quarter for every single time that I held my tongue instead of speaking my mind,
then I could have a mansion.

A big ol' mansion, with shiny things inside
that I'd never touch, scared they'd break, oh I'd
have a butler who I'd feel guilty for,
making food and answering the door.
My face would be on some magazine
for gluttonous people who try to stay lean.

Would my music exist?
Would I exist?
My friends would warn me,
but I'd insist
that the money was worth it,
that my patience deserved it.

If I had a quarter for every single time that I held my tongue instead of speaking my mind,
then I could have a mansion.

A big ol' mansion, with zero friends inside
comfy bed but I'd cry every night.
No mom to sing my heart out to,
no Marie to say "be good to you".
My chef would make boring food
with no onions or peeples to chew.

Would my paintings exist?
Would I exist?
Without my mother's encouragement,
would this be it?

If I had a quarter for every single time that I held my tongue instead of speaking my mind,
then I would give them all back.

A little ol' house, with my loved ones inside
that's all I need to stay alive.
I may have been kicked while I was down,
doesn't mean that I can't stick around.
I've learned from my quiet days
that you shouldn't speak up without something to say.

So my art exists.
So my heart exists.
All my people are lovely,
I'm so thankful they love me.
And maybe now,
I will think out loud,
after all, you're listening
and I'm still around.

i
only
consist
of
nostalgia,
empathy
and
fear

For a species that I love so much,
they just can't seem to hate enough.
But I won't quit,
I'm not a quitter--
this withered heart
will never bitter.
I'd rather live with love and pain,
than get the chance to say I'm sane.

I couldn't keep my sanity,
while studying humanity.
At least that's the excuse I make
when episodes are hard to take.

I never had, I think,
the chance--
I swear I'd blink and
sounds would swirl inside my ears.
Paranoia induced tears but
I've been watching people lately,
wondering just what is 'crazy'?

Sometimes I think it's not just me,
they too can't find reality.
But even more they waste their lives,
while I sit back and cherish  mine.
Ignore each other and poke at screens--
do they wonder what life means?
I do.
Constantly.
And maybe that is why I'm me,
and me.

I came to terms with the fact that
You're never coming back.
So when I sit in my car alone
And smell you
I can't bear the unknown.

I did everything I could
And told myself
Beyond everything
That you understood.

So that night I never heard from you
And that night you didn't
Look at me
I did everything in my power
To tell myself that there was never
An us of ours.

I can't listen to certain songs anymore
And that feeling of being unwanted
Is like never before,
And sleep used to be my escape
But now the darkness I see
Is like the darkness I saw in your room
So no matter where I go
Or what I do
I'm always followed by
The thought of you.

I breathe you,
I remember you,
I smell you,
Its beyond me why I still sweat you.

But I did everything..
I did everything.
I did everything I could,
And beyond it all,
I always told myself you understood.