undeniably facetious obstacle
that's what you are to me
something I must overcome
well you have alienated me so much
you might as well call me an extraterrestrial
yet you are the one who abducted me
not the other way around
but practicalities are useless with you
at least there is life on other planets
so I will get into my spaceship
and blast as far away from you as I can

My toes have bruises
From all of the times
You've stepped on them
When we embrace.
I can no longer feel.

My tongue has cuts
From all of the times
I held back on saying
I love you.
I can no longer speak.

My eyes ache
From all of the times
I have looked at you and
Caught you staring first.
I can no longer see.

The one part of my body that isn't hurt from you is my heart.
No matter how many times you break it
It still beats on.

You push me away
A child pushing his plate full of veggies
as far from him as he can
yes
there may be carrots in a carrot cake
but it still tastes sweet
I wish
you could accept the fact
that vegetables are good for you
and so too
am I
maybe you could even
learn to like them
maybe you could even
learn to love them

seat me next to your garbage and pickings
in the backseat of your car

you go back and forth
circling around
for the carcass to consume
preparing for the surprise attack
but you won't touch m--

That's where he's been hanging around lately.
I hear their coffee is decent.
Half and half, a spoonful of sugar, and a dash of shameful regret.
He orders his eggs over easy with a side of fresh apologies.
The scratchy booth seat squeaks merciless obscenities at him
as he shifts uncomfortably
because of his aching back and aching conscience.
If I were to pass by him at a diner, I doubt I would even recognize him.
Guilt tends to deform the appearance, and derange the soul.

It's like the unbearable itch of knowing somebody's eyeballs
are piercing the back of your sweaty neck,
and it's intimidating as hell.

It's like the rhythmic pounding of a migraine,
such a pretty and steady beat, but holds
such a negative association with
nauseating pain.
What a shame.

Waiting.

It's not something you can feel,
like the hurting force of hitting the ground hard.

But waiting
for you, someone, something,
anything at all,
it's the most excruciating feeling I have ever felt.

Wherever he walks,
droplets of chemical toxins are emitted
from the soles of his shoes.
Hansel and Gretel.
I follow his trail of breadcrumbs
like it is all I have to hold on to.
A winding, infinite path of poison.
I have been exposed to too much radiation-
to take one more step is to seal my fate.
But I am lost, and so all I can do is
wander.

I wonder if people notice things like,
"That girl's nail polish is dark"-
Dark having many different connotations-
Because I sure do notice.

I wonder if people notice things like:
-The way somebody walks
-How they hold a pen to a piece of paper
-The way their hair curls around their ears
-How they move their lips to speak
-What they wear and why they wear it
Because there has to be a reason
There has to be a reason for everything

I wonder if people study me the way I study them.

I can assure you,
Everything I do
Say
Think
Feel
Wear
Represent
I do it for a reason
I do it for a statement
Even though I'm not sure what kind of statement it is just yet.

Keep watching to find out.
Stay tuned.

When my daddy leaves me,
I will sleep in his button-down, collared shirt.
I will smoke one cigarette each year on his birthday.
I will always sit in the last seat of the row at the movie theaters.
I will set a pack of junior mints down on his grave religiously.
I will learn how to play 'Stairway to Heaven' on the guitar.
I will always address my waiter or waitress as Sir or Ma'am.
I will become lifelong friends with perfect strangers.
I will always keep a pack of minty gum in my car.
I will watch National Geographic documentaries on how the universe works.
I will learn how to make delicious, impeccable chicken fried rice.
I will never, ever spank my children.
When my daddy leaves me, I will remember him
With all the little things I do.

We refused to sit
until they brought us our own table.
I ended up sitting next to you
something I hadn't done in a while.
But we both gave a smile,
with a friendly-stranger hello.

There's a picture of all of us.
I am tilted face down, but
not from sadness this time.
We all had on different faces
I hope that photo never erases.

Because we took the world and made sure to stand
until they brought us our own table.

He walked away
But he looked back
What I would say
If I could have
I miss the days
Before gone bad
I miss the way
We were not sad
You cannot stay
Well that is that
It's your choice babe
I hope you're glad
Choice I would make
Wouldn't be that
But it's too late
Too late for that
He walked away
But he looked back.

When it comes down to enlightenment
Consider me the lightest of them all.
Soaring above, the rest of them silent,
I shall leave this place leaving you appalled.

There are liars and cheaters on every block
of seemingly perfect cities.
And being the hypocrite I am, I only mock
when what I really need is pity.

For of all the pathetics living today
I am the worst of them all
I shamelessly hurt you in every way
and you will only see me fall.

I deserve to have all the hate in the world
crammed into my body oh so nice
so all I can do is be tortured and curled
so demented, as a sacrifice.

Maybe then I'll get some sleep tonight
by realizing I only deserve the worst.
And there's no way I could make it right
since my very existence is cursed.

If dying is similar to sleep,
I'll lie in bed and count the sheep
They'll smile at me in passing-by,
And wait for me on the other side.

All will be glad when I finally come
The sheep will dance, and laugh and run.
And all the animals will see
That dying was the fate for me.

My loved ones back home won't understand
"We want you back," They'll cry in demand
But alas, I am much happier here
With the sheep, the birds, the rabbits and deer.

For what I lacked in life I have in death
And I'll never return to breathing a breath
If dying is sleeping, I'll sleep all day
As long as with the sheep I will stay.

I was pinched by the crisp freshness of cold that winter slips me,
like acid in my morning coffee. Then
I slip out and take the cliffs for a spin,
diving down,
like a squirrel leaping toward a too-far tree. (Except I lack
all the hope you know is inside that nutty creature.)
I brutally edit my videos
and i cut them into
pieces, trying to arrange them in the right spots.
But you know
you can't do that sort of thing to people.

You're somewhere out there,
a charity case for devout Christian couples in diners,
sleeping in your car, in the woods, at night.

You haven't come back as the wind just yet,
but it could be worse.

I wonder how you will stay warm this winter
in thirty degree damp cold
that seems to seep into your bones so thick
with nothing but the clothes on your back.

Let me trade in my smile for fangs
And my feminine fingers for paws.

Let me trade in my manicured nails for claws
And my curly locks for silver fur.

Let me trade my heart shaped mouth for a long snout
And the freckles on my nose for whiskers.

Let me trade my curves for a round, bushy tail
And my clumsiness for strength and agility.

Let me trade my tears for whimpers and barks
And my voice for howls in the night.

Let me trade my dinner reservations for hunting down a moose
And my poor senses for keen ears and a nose.

Let me trade my soul for a different one
And become a friend to the moon.

Let me live my life as a wolf
And all that it encompasses.

Let me symbolize the dawn and the dusk
And let me symbolize the converging of light and darkness.

Because that is wolf,
And that is what I see, when I look in the mirror.

This is free
Writing me
As much as
This is me
Writing free