today i met a man who wasn't there, and this i swear
his skin was misplaced, i pondered, he said she was graced
he said, "under my skin is a nightmare, nightmares are all i see,
                                                            ­ ­      all i am, all i will ever be."
today a man that wasn't there, told me. about his dead sea
told me it was full of skin, with a seldom dreary grin
he said weary, "under my skin is wickedness, wickedness is all i see,
                                                            ­ ­       all i am, all i will ever be."
today i met myself who wasn't there, and this i swear
i peeled my skin off and under it was also a nightmare
me that wasn't there, and this i swear, can't stand the skin i wear
i come back to my own reality, and me is all i see
and i go back to my skin spree

i say sadly, "under my skin is me, me is all i see,
                                                            ­ ­ all i am, and all i will ever be."

I don't know your favorite tea.
I'm not sure how you get up when you're knocked down.
But I love the places you take me;
the shivers on my spine when you're around.

You've never told me your favorite color
or the things that break your heart.
I'm praying to God there's not another,
the thought of being without you is tearing me apart.

I don't know a thing about you,
but I'm already falling for you.
I don't know anything about you,
but I know I've gotta have you.

*~ m.w. ~

i swallowed the sun and
washed it down with a little inky night.
now wildflowers bloom in my heart
and light fills my mind. these
words are solar flares of a
fallen petal.

the price of it all--
welded lips of unspoken words.
now other people mishear
and believe i am speaking,
but it is only the wind
whistling through
my teeth.

now i find that,
being alone is silence,
but it is never quiet.

i read old messages for endless hours
why? because i miss what was ours
you were my very best friend
you were my soulmate
i hate how we let it all
simply go to waste
haven't met you
in the flesh
but i want to
next year
i want to see your face
and hope feelings re-appear
i want to feel your warmth
and just see you smile
it would make me glad
even for just a while
you are the one i see
when i look at the stars
you are the one i seek
every single night
i always wrap up
in a blanket
wishing it was you
holding me
instead of it
every night
same old thing
i miss your texts
i miss your everything
i miss you and i miss your love
you still fit me like a glove

I like the way your cheeks turn red when you're embarrassed,
or sometimes for no reason at all.
I like the way you say 'God Maddie'
I like when we are REALLY talking about
something else entirely.
I like your hair.
and I like when you let me play with it,
and I like how tenderheaded you are,
because I have to be extra careful I'm not laying on it.
I like when you get really excited about something
and I can't understand what you're saying.

and when people ask me to describe you, I say
you're short, quiet,
and that's not good enough, when I could describe
the way your eyes light up
or the way you say things,
or your mind,
or all the millions of conversations we've had,
or your laugh,
or your walk, as if you're the only one walking alone on a slackline over a mattress and you're there for the thrill.

You aren't a GPA or a collection of friends or a green-orange-gold-blue who is friends with a
blue-orange-green-gold.
You aren't even an aspiring pilot.
You're every experience you've had and every time someones' said your name.
and every kiss someone wished they had with you,
but didn't have the ***** to pull it off.
and every phase you've been through,
and every embarrassing quote from freshman year.
I wasn't there for all that.
But I can be there for the rest of it.

and I could write line after line and never come close. adjective on top of adjective with maybe a few verbs, couldn't capture you. or me, really.
there's a certain fire inside you
everyone who meets you can see it.
it's more than there is on the outside
and makes me want to burrow and dig for it
so I can be warmed by the gentle (or blazing) heat.
if I get too close, I might get burnt.
but maybe it'll be worth it.

I don't want to capture you.
capturing and owning and containing will slowly
**** your flame.
I don't want to change you.
I don't want to hold you down.
I want to see you fly.
I want to watch as your soul alights on the wings
of heaven, and the fire inside you finally finishes eating away at the outer shell and it
emerges in full glory,
and I've seen it for a long time and
now everyone can see it just like me.

You're looking for someone who sees things like you do.
I don't. I see differently. But at least I can try to understand the way and the why you see things like you do.
We're so ridiculously different.
but can anyone ever be similar?
Who you are is expansive and never-ending and unimaginable and no words could ever capture it. Who I am is completely in the other direction but the same in scope.
I hope that you understand-
who we ARE
is not nearly as beautiful and powerful as
who we can be
or who we will be.

I love you
And you'll never know
For I never say so

It's you
Residing in my thoughts
The reason behind
The ink being spilled
Into these papers

It's you
These words are
Pleading to stay
In between the lines
That I say

I shouldn't
But I need you
More than I thought
I should
And could

When you said
That you like to read
I immediately
Wanted to make you
A whole library

And maybe for you
I'd write even
The ones
I never thought
I would

One of the saddest things to me
Is how my generation
Has been deceived to believe
That there are rules
To poetry

That thought is absurd and profane
I’d even take another step
And call it inhumane

Poetry is an expression of being
A way to be free

I finished writing this poem
When I realized something
This doesn’t just apply to poetry
But to all writing

Essays and poems and stories
If we all wrote the same way
We would be so boring

Write different
Write about what you want
Not what they say
Do the complete opposite
Of their way

But it’s not just about writing different
It’s how your pencil
Or other writing utensil
Moves across the paper
It’s about the breath you take
Right before you pour
Your heart on the white sheet
It’s about the way you see

So don’t just write things differently
Write in your own way
Create a new style
And then you’ll know
You’ve gone the extra mile

I finished this poem again
Thought now would be a great time to end
And then I realized something more
This isn’t just about writing
This is life
Break those rules
Don’t conform

It’s not just about breaking rules
Or being some kind of lawless hipster
It’s about being yourself

It’s not always about where you go
No, sometimes it’s about how you flow

There’s something special
Buried deep inside
It’s chained down
Release it
And it will give you life

Yes
I guess you can follow
The rules and regulations
If you enjoy being assimilated
Into a system
That was better
Before it existed

You have two options
Pretend you never saw this
And stay hopeless
Or stand up
And become righteous
I highly suggest the second
But of course
I’m biased
Because I hate the idea
Of being hopeless

You have the ability
To be something
Wonderfully crazy
Something that no one else can be
Because you are you
Different than me
So be your own
Not some societal clone
Be you and you alone

I urge you
Stand against conformity
Don’t be he or she or me
Be something completely unique