I am confused
I am broken
But I am not lost

I am boring
Following the same routine everyday
I know it's not forever
But I am not lost

I am living
Walking on a crazy road
Like Alice in Wonderland
But I am not lost

I am moving forward
Never stopping
I don't know where I'm heading
But I am not lost

I am alive
I am free
But I am not lost

I'm not the girl you think I am
Not really, anyway
There's a lot more to me than the girl in Dr. Seuss pajama bottoms, shrinking beneath the expectations you have set for me
I wish I knew what your expectations are
But it's hard to reach for a bar you can't see
It's hard to mold myself into something that you will accept and place on the mantle of a fireplace so that when strangers come over you can point to me and say that you are proud
I'm not sure if you want candlesticks or a picture frame or a book full of wonderful accomplishments
I could be all of those things, if you wanted
I'm not the girl you think I am
Not really, anyway
I'm stronger than my trembling bottom lip and the tears that break through the walls of my heart sometimes
I wish you weren't so logical and demanding of evidence you can hold in your hands
Because in my mind there's a gold mine of things I am trying to become
And none of them can be deposited in an ATM or withdrawn from a checking account
I'm sorry that I'm not real enough for you
And I'm sorry that you won't step into my mind for a second
So I can show you
The girl behind the numbers

And who am I to think I should be loved
[When I’m not even sure what it means
Being me
Anymore]
So I’m tucking away the parts of me
[The Kate Lyn you know and love]
That shouldn't exist That love you
[You won’t have that frustrating child at your feet
Tugging on your shirt for reassurance
Anymore]

I’m closing off the eyes I only had for you
[Forever]
And
[In the meantime]
I’ll learn Braille
[So when you’re ready]
I will trace your spine with my fingertips
To see the name you’ve made for yourself
[Maybe you’ll even let me read your lips
With my own

But I get too far ahead of myself
By wishing that
Don’t I, Love?]

And who am I to think I should be loved
[For all that I am]
When I don’t even know what makes up all that I am
[I have yet to discover my favorite flavor of ice cream
And every stable person ought to know something like that,
I think,
Just in case.]

Who am I to think that you would love me

[I suppose that you did press your lips to my pages
Leaving kisses in the footnotes of my story
Burning away the definition of ‘just friends’]
There are four holes in my story now
[I counted]
When I tell people what happened to us

But love is more than that

[I think
That’s what I would like to learn
At least
By tucking myself away into an envelope for a while
Or perhaps into a bottle
I'd look prettier then
Knees against my chest
Watching my breath fog the glass
Taking my finger to draw hearts in the condensation
Letting it dry
Just to trace it again
Until you choose to see it
Getting drunk off my own message]

There’s more to me than the parts that love you
[I hope]

So I’m tucking myself away
Like I’ve said
[But hopefully not all of me
Because that would mean I can’t find any part of me
That cannot live without you]

Until I know the meaning of me
Until I can say I’ve left my hand on a stove for too long
[Experimenting with other love
Getting truly burned by a person that isn’t you]

I will not let my pencil be my driftwood anymore
[In this tempest we ignore]
I will wash myself up onto white beaches
Exploring the farthest reaches of my mind
[To fill those empty places I never take time to think about
With useful things
Like white roses and garden gnomes
Every yard ought to have those,
I think,
Just in case]

I’m going to stretch myself
[Until I’m thin enough to spread across a page
To be read like a book
Full of poetry that isn’t about you]
I hope you know how much it will hurt to do something like that
To let myself be put on display
[In some foreign library in a distant country]
To be looked through and seen
By eyes that aren’t yours
Because you’ll be somewhere else
[Doing useful things
Like matching socks
Or playing cards
Something like that]

I’m going to live without you
[For a while,
My love]
All those places that I’ve been wanting to see

I’ll see alone
First



[I feel that every person ought to be alone
At least for a little while
At some point
Before they can truly be happy with another]

And if you ever care to find me
[You know where]
Open me up on your card-playing table
[And if I've got white roses resting in my hair
And burns on the palms of my hands]
It will mean
[That I’ve seen all I need
And learned Braille enough]
It will mean
That I have learned what it
[Truly]
Means
To live
[Without you]

Oh that I believed in solipsism
All those fears of gossip would blossom in little polyps all over my mind
Making what everyone thought of me
Simply- everything I think of myself
Oh that I could reach the first impressions with an all-encompassing blindfold
And emerge from behind the curtain as the person I am in this moment
If ice cubes melt I surely don't exist anymore
Because that was years ago
So what am I?
Oh that I didn't believe in a God
And the only person to hide from was myself
Which in itself is impossible
But disappointing the only other person who knows of my existence
Makes it harder to find reasons to be permanent
Perhaps ice cubes are better for this reason
Becoming less and less significant as you warm them with your hands
Because
I don't want to be anything
To anyone
(Not anymore)

Sir

            In my hand is the only reason I need to live

                        [I have so many more

                        But if they all escaped through air holes in the jar on my desk

                                                            Then he would be enough]



Sir

            There’s a sparrow in my hand

                        [Broken

                                    Trembling

                                                Still alive?]



It’s my saddest thought, sir

            But this sparrow would’ve stayed

                        [He told me so]

            But I clutched it so hard I broke his legs

                        [And you tell me all I do is hurt]

                                    Hurt

                                                Hurt

                                                            Him



But I don’t

            I love him

                        See



My broken fingers

            [From my pathetic attempt to be the lopsided branches

                                    He was so happy sitting in]

And you tell me all he wanted was to hold my hand

                        [Sometimes]



My chapped lips

            [From trying to lift his wings with my breath

                                    So he could lose himself in flight again]

And you tell me all he wanted was to kiss me

                        Take my breath away

                                    [Sometimes]





Sir

            Will he

                        [Kiss me

                                    Hold my hand

                                                And stay]

            Ever walk again?

Palugput Ka!
It's something I've learned just today
From my older sister
You know? The one sister I have
That gave up a year of her life to god
lived away in a foreign land
Learning the sounds and smells by her senses alone
But ended up coming home
Because her health and mind just became
Palugput

Puhlug-Put-Kaw
Means you're ridiculous
My job
My family
My friends
My life
is Rid-ik-yew-lus
means palugput ka

But, if we're going to be
completely and utterly honest right now
Palugput Ka

He once asked me
Was I just merely chiseling stone?
Or building a cathedral?
And to this day
I’ve seen life
In its most elevated grandeur
Because that’s what it is.
I just never looked up
At what I was creating.

I haven’t looked down since.

I am an old pair of shoes
I wonder about the open world
I see the journey ahead
I want to someday escape
I am an old pair of shoes

I pretend to stand strong even when I'm falling apart
I feel the mud and snow of the world breaking me down
I touch the earth and how it's my advantage
I worry that I will be thrown away and forgotten
I am an old pair of shoes

I understand when to run and when to stroll through life
I say to take an adventure and never look back
I dream to become one with the earth
I try and accomplish my goals
I hope to never stop moving
I am an old pair of shoes

I work as a bagboy at a local grocery, and today, a woman
Mid-sixties
Stained white blouse
Offered to pray for me as thanks for my service.
I,
Godless, simply replied,
No thank you,
I can handle that myself.

Later I was marching around the parking lot, hunting for carts
Like a mother for missing children when I spotted
An elderly couple. Their hands joined
As they shuffled into the mouth of the store. I was still outside when
They left, and noticed then that they held hands only at the palm, fingers
Resting clumsily upon each other. The both of them, I now noticed,
Smiling.
Suddenly I wished I could
Will myself back an hour
And tell the lady with the stained white blouse,
Pray that arthritis is cured.

I feel for all the sisters
of imperfect brothers.
When the one who's
supposed to be your hero
turns out like any other.
Not that I blame you for anything.
I'm sure all you did
made sense in your head,
at the time.
Just like it made sense in mine
to me
that time in D.C.
when I hit you upside the head
with an etch-a-sketch.
And I bet it never occurred
to you then
that eventually
I wouldn't be able to count
on my fingers and toes
the number of times
you drove your baby sister
while buzzed or ******.
And I guess I feel
that I have something to prove
because I've written three poems in my life
and they're all about you.