and here i am again
at the intersection
of pedestrian language
& old wives tales
swallowing gum
like 7 year memories
opening umbrellas inside
cause i can't seem get away
from all of this rain
i ******* with my left hand
cause i was told
back in highschool that
"it feels like someone else is doing it"
it gets me wondering
about the difference between
losing you and finding out
that some one else found you
or my sleep
or lack thereof
its starting to tear me apart
i keep having this dream
where you are in
an unfamiliar body of water
trying to wash my poetry
off of your hands
or the one where
something happens in my chest
every time you sit
on someone else's bed
i'm tired of feeling like something you've misplaced
but don't have the heart
to look for anymore
tired of you saying my name
like you're trying to bury it
i'm tired of wondering
if you can tell the difference
between the absence
of my voice & silence
the other day
i almost started sobbing
at work when a woman
asked me about
our equipment
i was explaining how
things come apart
and almost mentioned your name
it made me think
of how you used to say
things like "what would you do
if i showed up on your doorstep
one day?" now, i haunt
the windows in my house
i don't leave for weeks at a time
i sit on the porch like the dog
you didn't shoot behind the shed
the one that refuses to die
until you come home again
i told somebody once, that
you didn't even know
what my voicemail sounded like
i wonder if they thought
it was because you
are so important that i never
let it ring that many times
before picking up
or if you dont know
what it sounds like
because you've never called
you can't be the ****** weapon
and the search party
i'm tired of all the seats
to the ferris wheel in my chest
being empty
tired of your voice
being the one i look for
in abandoned places
that one sound i beg
to bounce back
down vacant hallways
i just seem to stand there
in all of that quiet
like someone looking for a mistake
on an eviction notice
so i guess the hardest part
isn't letting go
it's forgetting
you ever had a grip
in the first place
and since you've been gone
i wonder if when
you pushed yourself away from me
you used your left hand
so it felt like someone else did it

I had chewed up lips and a consciousness that slipped between your fingers and my thin laced skin. I was fifteen, in love with you and pointy objects and the desire to one day feel alive.

Nights were our favorites. You held me high on your shoulders while I spread my arms and screamed. Your fingers pricked my thighs and I could feel your molecules forming with my molecules and when I saw my breath coming in little puffs of cotton ***** in the air all I could think of, Is this what life is?

Sometimes you would run with me on your shoulders and I had to latch on for dear life. My nails in your gold speckled hair, “Don’t you dare close your eyes,” you’d say and I’d cry from the wind, from the adrenaline, from the thought of you ever letting go. Little crystal streams ending nowhere.

But eventually, you did, you dropped me hard and fast and I fell upon the cold frosted grass. No warning, no squeeze of assurance. The wind knocked out of me, tears freshly stained upon acne scarred cheeks. I tried to lift my head to see you, but you were gone. All I had was the tethered swing set, the stars. And this is what life is, I thought. It’s flying until you can’t. Falling until you cannot breathe and then it’s over.
With a thud.

i'm a blanket thief
i have horrid bed head
i talk in my sleep
and i probably snore too
good luck.

The leaves turn and drop
Slowly and then all at once
Conducted by winds

I am still a Child. by Samantha Shaw



Phor (father), Mae (mother),

I tried to do as I was told,

I’m trying to obey you, trying not to betray you,

but I don’t understand, I’ve been sold?

am I a resource?  One of exploitation and sales?

I don't understand mama, what if all else fails?

Where am I going and why is it dark here?

For in my small confinement, all I can smell is my fear

It is Dtoolahkom (October), the day is Tuesday,

and since you're flying me to Malaysia, where will I stay?

Mommy, I'm frightened, I don't want to go

No, not with that scary man I don't know.

His hands are clammy, he smells of bad cabbage!

You may not believe me, but he's a ***** old savage.

He's asked me to do things,

things I won't pronounce.

Ever since his grubby hands

undid my blouse.



My name is Mae,

Mae Luang of Myeik, just south of Bangkok

I must whisper to you, for fear they will hear my talk

I used to be happy, my family used to be sound,

but now there's no money, and I've a hunger so profound.

My tummy, it aches of pain and sorrow,

sometimes, it looks away from my tomorrow.

Fifteen years, is the age of my soul.

An adult, so I'm told,and that is why, my soul has been sold.

I've been told, "It's your duty", "Uphold our family name",

but will it still be honor when taken in vain?

I know money is out there,

it is mine for the take,

but do I really have to let my frail body be at stake?





Up in the sky, so high, we can fly,

so no man can touch me,

this little girl won't cry.

My sigh is as deep as the lake I've been kept under,

but, I see Malaysia airport, my dreams now torn asunder.

Reality hitting me with fists to thin stomach

down the spiraling hole, down to earth will I plummet.

He's coming towards me,

takes my hand and my bag,

breath smells like whiskey, I can't help but gag.

Into the car is shoved my physical being,

onto my head placed a bag to keep me from seeing.

The dark, what I fear, when rancid breath is near,

my body cringes and my eyes start to tear.

I can't help but regret this predicament I'm in.

For I know, what's to commence,

is world's most immortal sin.





We sat in our stalls after "work",

this little girl and I,

we spoke very little, she was young, a bit shy.

When I looked at her face,

so delicate and small, she whispered in my ear:

"Get out, save us all.

Run as fast as those legs will run,

don't stop until you've reached setting sun.

Onlythen will you be able to free your bound being,

and tell of our story, let the whole world start seeing.

Our lives will be redeemed, I believe in you Mae Luang,

now go and fix the rights that have been wrong all along!"





With her words in my chest,

I held my head high, and sprinted out the door when the night guard came by.

I ran until I felt my lungs would burst,

in my head rang out "the children come first!"

I'm glad I remembered to grab some money that night,

the money I "earned" helped pay for my flight.

Back in the air, my head cleared of bad thought

trying not to remember, all negativity forgot.

From that day on, I vowed to change Thailand’s wrong-doing

and now, years later,

I am the head of the board to end child trafficking.

I saw someone today who reminded me of you

they were sitting with a girl

drinking tea

having fun

laughing

I got really sad

because that could have been you

and I realized that

for the past year

I found that I can't see me with anyone else

I tried

to flirt with attractive boys

but



I





just





didn't





feel





anything



no tingly happiness

just

nothing

but with you

your name pops up

on my screen

and

it's you

I just immerse

with happiness

maybe

I'm

obsessed

that's such an ugly word

sometimes I try and convince myself

that I don't have feelings for you

I'm just lonely

but it's not true

because sometimes it works

and then you laugh

and I realize it can't be true

i'm pretty good at lying to

myself

i practice all

the time

but then

then you come along again

and ******

i falter

and my porcelain strength shatters

i live a messy

messy life.