Watching dust motes swirl around in beams of light
The way droplets of rain slide along the windows of my car as I drive
The reflections of streetlights on wet pavement
When flowers grow up through cracks in the sidewalk
Sleeping in late and waking up feeling whole
Rocks in the middle of a stream that are just big enough to sit on
Watching sunsets over the wetlands on my way to class
Delicate coatings of snow over trees
The sound my boots make when I walk
When my cup of tea turns out just right
Candles that burn nice and slow
When my cat rests her head on my hand and looks up at me
The smell in the air when you know Spring is coming
Wearing big sweaters and hiding my hands in the sleeves
Philosophical graffiti artists
The smell of a campfire mingling with the the forest
Walking barefoot through grass
Listening to music with my eyes closed
Watching nature reclaim abandoned buildings
Walking through the woods in October
Being awake when everyone else is sleeping
Long, warm showers
When the birds come back after the winter
Taking naps during road trips
The way that the air feels different at night

I'm writing
Partially because it's somewhat cathartic
Mostly because I'm afraid to go to sleep
I'm afraid of the demons that rise
Once I rid myself of all distractions
I'm afraid of the false hopes
That I might conjure in my dreams
I'm afraid that this is just one more
In a never ending parade of nights alone
Keenly aware of the empty space
In which another person would comfortably fit
But won't tonight
And maybe never will

you seem like the sort of person i could tell things to
that I might have never told anyone else.
how sometimes i feel like i'm drowning
and maybe that's why i'm afraid of the ocean.
how the song disorder sounds like the night
and how it makes me feel alive and dead at the same time.
i go to concerts so that the bass can keep my heart beating.
sometimes i lay awake for hours staring at my laptop
feeling numb and empty
and sometimes i wish someone would hold me until
i feel whole again.
i think i would be okay if that person were you.
you've always been so kind to me
in a way that makes me feel uncomfortable.
i don't know what to do with kindness.
maybe you could help me.
i'm not good at feeling things.
sometimes i feel nothing
and sometimes i feel everything
but my feelings for you always made sense
in a way that the others didn't.
i'm bad at talking
let's just drive.
the night air makes me feel alive and free.
i love the way the world looks lit up
and the reflections of street lamps and flickering neon shop signs
and the way their light paints our faces.
you looked at me so gently that night before you left.
i pretend to know the words that were frozen on your lips
and i go to sleep with my heart keeping time with joy division bass lines.

It might be that in 4 months
I won't even remember the way
You silently shook with laughter
Or the way you looked
When you took off your glasses
To clean them on your shirt
The way you absent mindedly made music
Wherever you were
Whether by tapping on your desk or with
The old guitar that your dad gave you
How you always had
Some obscure reference
To relate to anything and everything
And how you were unequivocally kind

It might be that in 4 months
Your face has stopped
Making cameo appearances
In all my dreams
And the songs on my iPod
Have stopped being about you

As painful as it is  
To look for your face in every crowd
I think I would be lost
Without that last bit of hope
And I'm not quite ready
To let go of that yet

How do you say goodbye to someone
That you never really had to begin with?

I'm falling through sheets
Of iridescent cellophane
I can't help but wonder
How they reflect so much light
In this endless darkness
They make no noise as I fall
Leaving me to wonder
Is there anything there at all?
Maybe I'm just grasping
For something beautiful
In this void
They slip through my fingers
Not hindering my decent
Only marking it's progress
Through flashes of magenta and lime
I'm falling through space
Falling through time
It's okay
I'm coming home

The possibility of you
Beckons to me
In a voice like amber

Will you or won't you?
Can I try, if you don't?

I've grown used to this weight in my chest
And I worry sometimes
That if it should dissipate
Maybe I'd float away
And become even more lost
Than I am now

I stopped writing for a while

before that I stopped drawing
before that I stopped making videos
before that I stopped crocheting
before that I stopped reading
before that I stopped something else

I'm left to wonder
if I keep stopping
when will I run out of things to stop

I stopped leaving my bed if I can help it
and I stopped caring too much about it

I stopped writing for a while
but I'm trying to start again
it's been a while since I've had a start
maybe just starting is the hardest part

I feel the emptiness
Where your body would fit next to mine
And suddenly I feel very small and alone
Lost in a space that is too big for me
This wasn't meant for a single person
I'm trying so hard to fill up this void
With patches and cleverly placed knick knacks
But the hole is still very visible
If I were to consult a real estate agent
They would advise me to fill it in
Pretend it was never there
Make the space more appealing
So that others may find it pleasant
I don't think I could bring myself to close it
I still have hope that one day
I won't have to worry about bad weather
Or drafts coming inside
Because the emptiness will be filled
And not by spackle and new paint
But with strong arms and a beating heart

Though I'm empty when you go
*I just wanted you to know

I woke up sad today.
It was one of those mornings that just begs you to pull the covers over your head and go back to sleep.
But I didn't do that.
I forced myself into a vaguely vertical position.
I managed to not fall while going down the stairs.
I cringed as I walked barefoot across the cool kitchen floor.
And I drank a protein shake that tasted like fake chocolate and coffee.
I took some vitamins.
I hugged my arms close to me because it was chilly and I was wearing a t shirt.
I went back upstairs to get dressed.
I glanced sideways at my bed from across the room.
But I didn't get back into it.
I put on my most comfortable jeans and a sweater that makes me feel safe.
I put on a pair of boots.
I removed my cat from my bed so that I could close my bedroom door.
And I did not get back into bed.

Maybe we're happier in my daydreams
Than we could ever be in reality

Who am I to ruin that
With the truth

And for a few days at least
My heart was painted on the walls
It was nice to be reminded
That I exist as something
Other than pen strokes and stapled pages

I find myself sitting next to empty spaces
That happen to be about your size
And laying all the way to one side of the bed
So as not to kick you too much in my sleep
Someone took a photo of me the other day
And there was a strange imbalance within it
My figure pressed against the edge of the frame
Smiling absently at the emptiness beside me
I leave room for you wherever I go
I just wanted you to know

People seem to think
That I spend most of my time
Alone
But that isn't quite true
I have a constant companion
In the form of crippling self doubt
In guilt, anxiety, and a hollow resignation

People seem to think
That I spend most of my time
Alone
If only that were the case.

I can almost feel your lips on my neck
And that does nothing
To help solve my sleeplessness

I've never been one to ask for help
I've always been the one
Who would rather strain a muscle
Or drop something on my toe
Than admit weakness

Now I wonder how I managed this far in life
Failing to understand the definition
Of the word
                                                                Strength



Ants can lift 20 times their own body weight
But even though it sometimes feels like it
I am not an ant.

The weakest shade of blue
Is the color of my eyes in the dim light of my room
As I sip a lukewarm beer
Headphones crammed into my ears
Filling my head with distortion and feedback
Replacing the noise in my brain
With a more aesthetically pleasing version
I never want to see you when I'm sober
But I want you so bad

I'm sitting here staring at an empty space
It's not that I don't have things to fill it with
In fact, I have an abundance of things
Thoughts, memories, hopes
But they're all jumbled together
Tangled, like poorly stored necklaces
The chains wrapped tightly around each other
Almost impossible to separate

I could take everything out
Place it all out on a table
Try to gently detach each piece of myself
The problem with that, though
Is that more than a few of those baubles and chains
Were never meant to see daylight
I don't want to reveal the tarnished and rusting metal
The cracked glass pendants
And the lockets never meant to be opened again
Some things are to stay forever
Stored away in the darkest corners of my mind
I have a box on a dusty shelf there
Where they live

I guess I should look for a flashlight
So maybe I can try to sort out the better pieces
I know there must be some treasures there
Maybe I'm just hoping I might have something good left
I don't want to face the possibility
Of finding nothing but debris
Tattered trinkets on a dusty shelf
In the back of a damaged mind

sometimes i try to stop breathing
i have no end game
no intent to hurt myself
but sometimes i put my head under water
and hold my breath until my lungs ache

but then there are the times
when my body stops breathing for me
i struggle/ taking quick/ ragged breaths
unable to make my lungs feel full
and this is when it feels like drowning
and all i can do is lay still
and feel the weight in my chest dragging me
                                                                ­                 d
                                                              ­                      o
                                         ­                                              w
                                                               ­                            n

it's strange how someone can feel empty
yet so heavy

If I stop thinking of you as the destination
And just enjoy the journey…
Maybe that's the secret to happiness

I'll memorize the crinkles in your forehead
Like lines on a map
When my mix tape runs out of songs
I'll listen to your voice instead
When it gets cold at night
And I don't want to roll up the windows
I'll hold your hand

Even if we were only blown together
Like fallen leaves
For a brief amount of time
For that moment
I was yours
And maybe you were mine

I don't know where we're going
I don't even know we're we've been
But as long as the wind keeps blowing
Let's keep following the wind

I feel as if I've collected bits of information about you
Like a bird with bits of fluff and twigs
Constructing a nest
Making something warm and comfortable
Out of tiny shards of something larger
I wonder
If they saw the trees from which their twigs fell
If they would still recognize their home

I will never get used to how easily
People come and go
Transient
Never meant
To be held on to

I'll never get used to
Thinking of others
In such a fleeting manner
How you can boil a whole person
Down to a few choice encounters

I was never one for reading the abridged copy

I think the reason that life is so disorienting
Is because it's a little like
Driving down a road in the middle of the night
Doing 80
But the road has no streetlights
So all you can see is what's immediately ahead of you
And even then
You're moving so fast  
That sometimes landmarks don't register as important
Until they're already long gone
You just need to have some faith that if you keep going
You're not going to crash.

The irony of course
Is that these lyrics
Are speaking of
The very thing
That the music
Is helping me evade

*Sleep

when i entered class this morning
my face was wet from the rain

when i left this afternoon
it was wet with tears

it's what happened in the middle
that i'm a little foggy on

I keep writing these words
And, like yelling into a pillow
It's somewhat cathartic
But I can't help but be dissatisfied
At the lack of practical application
No one can hear my cries
Or maybe no one is listening
Regardless
This changes nothing