Far away, fire casts a warm glow of an everlasting sunrise
the hues of oranges and red blending with the sun above
It's quite beautiful really

then closer, almost that you can smell the dead flesh
but not close enough to feel the radiation
the blues and red and orange cackle with the burnt wood
it's still beautiful, really

finally on the tip of your eyelashes, the fire softly kisses the pain in your eyes
the **** tears that wouldn't stop flowing
it's still beautiful, really

It’s funny how these things end
Love stories and happy endings
I’ve never been the sappy romantic
And from the beginning I could have never predicted
These feelings that have grown just for you
A place in my heart that beats uncontrollably
With a ferocity unmatched by any others
Already I know I’ve become the fool to be duped
Sometimes I get scared
Sometimes I get lonely
Sometimes I get confused
And then I remember the day you held me
And you said, “We’ll be okay”
I’ve watched you carry your burdens
You’ve seen me shoulder mine
We’ve not always been the closest of friends
No secret bond to share in the closet of skeletons
No fleeting glances that could be hidden
No secret love that has been written
We’re not Romeo and Juliet
But when you walk by I still find myself smiling
I tell myself I’m not meant to feel
Not like this
And not for you
So I have to lock my heart and thoughts away
To a place where no one may see my dismay
I tried to fight it
Tried to ignore it, pretend like you weren’t right there in front of me
Too afraid to voice my feelings
Too afraid to not be loved
Maybe one day though I’ll find the courage
To live with just being friends
Just talking could be a start
Laughing and joking
I could be okay
Never asking for more
Still I’ll always find myself hoping
In the shadows of the stars
That you’ll grab my hand and smile
Before leaning in to whisper
Will you be mine?

I have never felt so alone
or distant from the human world
in my entire life.
I don't have my life together
and the more i try to grab at the seams to pull it together,
the faster the stitches break.
I look like i'm playing a game of Jacks;
i drop the ball
and i see how many things i can grab
before the ball bounces back down
but i've grabbed too many things
and they're falling through my fingers.
I feel like a torture victim
with a wet cloth over my face
and pouring a gallon of water on me,
sputtering water out of my mouth and gasping for air.
I don't belong to anyone;
no friends
no love
no one.
I am a nomad trailing through the west
stopping at the villages for food
and then continuing my uncertain journey
almost hoping to die so this will be over.
I think a lot about killing myself,
not like a point on a map but rather
like a glowing exit sign at a show that's never been
quite bad enough to make me want to leave.
But i keep telling myself that
the sunrise will come
all i have to do is wake up.
But that's the problem,
i don't wake up because i don't sleep
and when you don't sleep you can't have dreams
and you always promised me that you'd see me in them.
But now
i close my eyes and think of you
i imagine what you look like in your sleep.
They say that when you can't sleep
you are awake in someone else's dreams
and i'm hoping that's what caused the insomnia.
I feel detached from my body
almost like a zombie that feeds on sadness and pride;
i can't swallow back either of those
long enough to tell you i love you.
This journey has gotten too terrifying to continue much longer
i apologize for the short notice
but i think i want to die today.
The show might finally be over,
everyone else seems to be getting out of their seats to leave
and i might just have to follow.

Privacy to sing;
             to think;
             to dance;
             to slice.

to be or not to be

left with my thoughts
let them stir themselves
like a spoilt stew
or limp, useless, worthless, rotten meat
that's good for nothing.
dead and left for
flies and worms;

i hath made worms meat of me.

deserted and alone
with my inner most thoughts;
                                desires;
                                wants;
                                passions;  

My sacred groove
My sanctity
My hollow alter and
Ceramic pool of most holiest
tap water.
Locked.

Where noone can capture
my hunchback, deformed, depressed
thoughts and passions
As I Cry
Sanctity.

where they cannot be killed
where i can bow so stubborn knees
but
not regret the effects of mine crimes?

help angels, make assay.

i am naked
i am relieved
i am pleasured
i am truthful
in this hollow tub of release
i thank whoever invented indoor plumbing
for my madness and sanity

for all that glitters is not gold.

One day we're going to be a "real couple." I'll invite you over, and you won't have to park around the corner. Maybe it'll even be when my parents are home. Maybe I won't need to sneak out. For now, you pull into the driveway of the church on the next street—but I don't mind the walk.

One day we'll be able to go on our First Official Date. We can go to that restaurant you like downtown, and I'll borrow a dress from my best friend because none of mine will look right. I think I'll love the city even more when I'm walking through it with you. For now we're grabbing fast food on stolen time, trying to get back to school before anyone notices we're gone. We get away with it every time.

One day I'll be able to spend the night. You'll wear those neon green sweatpants and I'll laugh at you for them, but you'll probably look good anyway. We'll watch old movies, like the one where Robin Williams and young Matt Damon go see about a girl, or the one where Audrey Hepburn spends her time in jewelry stores and doesn't name her cat. For now I can only come over for enough time to watch a few episodes of a show about a paper-selling company. I like it, though. I've always loved the theme song, and your laugh is still one of the best things I've ever heard.

One day I'll get in your car and we'll spend hours driving around, exploring and seeing where we end up. I won't worry about traffic being slow or getting caught, and you'll play your music as loud as we can take it while we try to find the best places around here to get lost. For now we talk about running away on the way back to my parents' world, and I wish with all my heart that we could one day. You don't let go of my hand the entire car ride.

One day I'll be free to make my own choices, and you'll be the only option that I want. For now I'm sixteen, and you're seventeen, and we're both young and naïve, and we both make wishes at 11:11. My favorite kisses are the ones that taste like your coffee, and you laugh at me for the time last year when I only liked tea. Sometimes I'm not good at hiding how sheltered I've been growing up, but you never seem to care. You make fun of my poetry, but I keep writing it anyway. I make fun of you for being way too into weight lifting, but I agree to try it with you sometime. And there's a lot we don't really know yet—but with everything I am, I love you and I love you and I love you, and that's exactly how I know that one day we'll be able to be anything and everything we want to be.

For now that's all I can say. But "one day" is much less of a daydream and much more of a promise.