The moment you notcied me was something of a dream,
something I would never expect,
becasue I was a mere moth in a garden of iridescent butterflies.

You woke me up at 6am on a summer morning, my oh my,
what a miracle, you worked a wonder,
you left your number,
so I left mine, and the dream froze.

Now I've been awake,
(the kind of awake where you have to stick toothpicks in your eyes to pry them open)
searching for signs of you everywhere.

The thing I want most is for that little blue light to appear so I know that we're both constantly pathetically thinking about each other.
I'm to shy to talk to you first,
and maybe you're sitting there too,
staring for the light on your phone,
like gatsby staring at the green light,
debating if its way to soon to text.

Please do, I don't want to be gatsby, staring for the light,
I want to have the privilege of seeing the light often
don't be afraid.

*12:21 the light hasn't appeared. Please think of me

I'm the
Sun patch on the grass
In a dark storm.
Here I am:
Rain and sunshine cascading down,
With you
Parting the clouds.

As I lie awake
flying inside my universe,
I wondered what it would feel like
if my lips, buzzing high,
grazes against yours.

The very thought
is not at all lewd;
it is modest, intimate,
and beautiful.

Shivers run up
and down my insides,
just the same.

The high is nothing
compared to this.

Feeling this, this, is my flight.

"Finally," he smiled,
"time to relax." Exhaling,
he pulled the trigger.

If you try to hurt me
with your words
as if they were needles
that pricked into my spine
just know that
baby, only words bleed
and that wounds heal
with time.

I am
So tired.
I am cold
And white
And blind.
On my wrists,
Defensive wounds
From a vicious love,
From the kisses
Of a black asp
With constellation eyes.

I have been reliving my death.
I have been choosing
That sweet, frigid venom,
An addict dripping poison into my veins.

But I am
So tired.
I am spent
And lost
And alone.
There are bruises on the soft insides of my arms
From a habit of worshiping
Sharp things.
Under my fingernails,
Dark soil
Evidence of a grave I've overcome
Too many times
And a struggle I've won
At a cost.

I am sick of death.
Sick of attending funerals for the futures I lose
Brutally and unexpectedly.
I am sick of being tolerated.
I am sick of being
Sorry.
I want to feel life in me.
I want to learn the taste of sunlight
And safety.
Of forgiveness--
I hear
It is sweet as warm honey.
(I wouldn't
Know)

I have gazed....
Oh, I have gazed long,
And the void saw me
As I saw it.
And long after I wished I could look elsewhere
I stood, gorgonized, on the edge.

Hold my hand.
Remind me that I have hands.
Spread light
In me.
Forgive me for my gravity as I lean forward on that hollow breeze that's always calling.
Pull me back and keep me
Steady.

I will never be
On solid ground.
I will never be easy.
I will never be
Safe.
I am half light and half shadow,
Half joy and half pain,
Half kindness and half anger.
I am a great, twisted tree,
With my branches in heaven
And my roots
In hell.
Love that in me,
Will you?
Will somebody?
I am ready
To bloom.
I am ready
To live.
I am ready to be exactly
What I am.

The smell of cigarettes reminds
Me of my father, but not
The thick chemical smell
Of most cigarettes, no he
Smokes an all natural brand:
Oxymoron Lights.
Which will still **** you, but
They smell so much better.
I used to hate that habit of
His, but now I know it's
More complicated than the
Addiction they warn about
In health class.

Kindergarten was the first
Time I learned about tobacco,
Properly. The teacher asked:
'Whose parents smoke'.
My tiny hand shot up with
Eagerness, pride even.
She had those of us with
Our hands raised get our
Jackets from their hooks
On the wall. Our classmates
Took turns smelling our coats
To determine whose smelled the
Most of cigarettes. The winner
A small blonde boy who's name
I don't remember, only his
Brown leather  jacket and the
Stench so strong it has stayed
With me fifteen years later.

I know now that my pink
Puffer coats lack of odor
Was a sign of my fathers
Good character and love.
I know now that he is not
Perfect. That he carries a
Life time of pain and regret
Behind his eyes because he
Thinks that I can not see it there.
And that cigarettes are a much
Lesser evil than the demons that
Haunt his past and the he will
Not let them haunt my present.
I know all of this now, but
Back then I just wanted
To smell like him.

Conflict:
The sweaty mason jar cools my right palm and stirs my head;
The smoky cigar heats my left grip and soothes my conscious.

Reflection:
Just now accepting the day that has happened on me and the events gone by;
Just now praying for her and the decision she had to make to do right by her family.

A pause:
Sip my glass, sip the stog, the spices and tingles mix and diminish;
My palate charged, I taste, breathe, and repeat.

The porch:
Comfy couch, windless night, stars come out, music is bright;
Achy pains slip away, and pleasant thoughts amass my brain.

My friends:
Scattered far and scattered wide, some fare better than others;
Different points we've reached in life, contact fades and flutters.

My wish:
I hope you all are happier than the happiest you thought you could be;
I hope you sleep better tonight than the soundest you've ever acheived;
I hope comfort finds every crevace of your soul;
I hope you keep your positive way through all life's turns and tolls.

today is not a choice
today it's not my voice
who's gonna yell at you
and kick out the hell off you
today i'll just use my words
to keep you calm in your nerves

If I state that you're right
you'll instantly feel better
even if your clear sight
is doubting me for that answer

but today I'll go straight
hey! you're no longer a baby
there's no need to debate
keep quiet and read me

at times you're right
like when you smile for all and not'n
but when you take things super serious
like when you want to have all or not'n
your sight got small and you're ridiculous
these times you're wrong so freaking right

you need to be right to feel ease and proud
you gotta be right to know when you're wrong
being wrong only can make you strong
for it yells the lessons to you at loud

being right keeps you where you are
while being wrong forces you to move
if you're always right then your life's on snooze
being wrong itself will take you super far

from now on learn to be wrong
as well as being right.