Music encompasses
My very being.
It's not a passion,
But a lifeblood.
Stay in tune,
Be inspired.

It's been 4 weeks exactly.
That's 28 days.
but in these past 28 days,
you've crossed my mind
more than 28 times.
Far more.
I pretend to listen in AP Lang,
but, really, i just sit there
and wonder how you are,
if you're moving on,
or if you're already there. . .
i worry that you're not getting enough rest,
and that you're having bad dreams.
i wonder if you see beauty in the world
like you used to.
I wonder if you're keeping up with precalc,
and taking your melatonin so your pesky
insomnia
won't keep you up..
Remember how you never used to take it?
Because you could fall asleep without trouble
as long as you heard my voice
that night.
You fell in love with
a voice,
and then me.
It's really kind of silly.
But then again, so did i.
I've read your latest poems,
and they both made me cry.
My eyes have leaked many times
since I last heard your voice. . .
But don't worry,
I'm not angry.
I just wonder about you,
and hope you're well,
or at least getting there.

*But most of all, I wonder if you ever think of me.

Here is where I rest my thoughts;
Here is where I silence the voices
Telling me, "you're not good enough"
They're all incessant noises.
All my life I've spent *******
By my overwhelming fears
With abundant negativity
Falling on deaf ears.
If I leave my worries here,
And look through positive eyes,
I'll be happier - fulfilled.
Dismissing all the lies.
Here is where I rest my thoughts..on the wings of hope.

i.
He stands at 6'8" --
the tallest man I know.
With his deep green eyes,
large calloused hands,
and a gentle disposition,
he's seemingly harmless. . .
That's what I had always assumed,
until the other night.

ii.
I was playing guitar
in my own little world,
happy,
and was abruptly shaken out of it
when he screamed,
"I'm going to smack the crap out of you",
and went plodding downstairs.
Immediately, an image of my mother flashed into my head.
My mother
My 5'4" mother,
with her shiny hair,
fragile hands, and beautiful smile,
being clobbered by her husband.

iii.
Part of me knew that he
must have been yelling at the dog,
but that image was more than enough
to make me realize what he is capable of.
My subconscious must be displaying the
Faults
of my perception.
  

*How strange.

For me,
writing a poem is like
opening the floodgates to my soul.
My thoughts
pour onto the tattered pages;
I let go of emotional control.

For moments,
just a few precious moments,
My racing mind finds unmistakable peace.
I finish,
and return to my mundane routine
finally feeling like I can breathe.

What about you?

Screaming threats across the kitchen,
teardrops falling on the floor.
Children hiding in the corner,
attempting to escape the war.
When the neighbors hear the yelling,
the police knock at the door.
They demand an explanation,
but they get one nevermore.
My friends and teachers are concerned,
it shakes them to the core.
I excuse his reckless behavior,
but I can't do this anymore.

It's been two whole months since I last saw him.
(And I'm not talking about a boyfriend,
Or a past love).
Two months have come
And gone
Since I last saw
My own father.
And the worst part is
I've liked it.

The rain pitter-patters outside,
Just out of reach.
It sounds hauntingly similar
To the click-clack of mother's heels,
Before she left last February.
Perpetually out of reach...
Just like the pitter-patter of the rain.


*I hear the pitter-patter,
click-clack,
but it's somewhere in the distance.

My parents are divorced,
And yes, it's plain to see
That their divorce affected me.

But that's old news.
I know one thing, one thing for sure:
That I am their child, but nothing more.

(Not a product of their misfortune)
If I've not been sentenced their same fate...
Why am I afraid to date?

Head spinning.
Hands sweating.
Heart racing.
Silence.

After confidence is gained,
I take a defensive stand at the podium.

All eyes are on me.
Every single one.

I'm expected to make a speech,
After all, it's my sister's wedding.

That unnerving silence pervaded the room.

I open my mouth,
But no words come.
Only raw, and painful memories
Of an unforgiven past.

***** this.*

I throw the microphone onto the floor,
And retreat to my car,
Never to be seen again.

"I hate my parents. They don't understand,"
She uttered into the phone
"They refuse to see it from my point of view,
And they won't leave me alone!"

I tried to console her, but there were no words
That could heal the pain in her heart.
She continued to tell me of the judgment at home
And how much it tore her apart.

Her parents were older (considerably so)
Than mine, or anyone our age.
They were very traditional, with old-fashioned views,
They were stuck in out-dated ways.

Week after week of silence passed,
No relief was found.
Her parents were devastated, as was I,
When her body was lowered into the ground.

The pressure built up, the hurt, the shame,
She felt that she couldn't survive.
I belive it was these thoughts,
That compelled her to take her own life.

Why do we judge in the way that we do?
Why insult, bully, and tease?
Smaller egos, and kinder hearts,
Could put our world at peace.

My body's sprawled out on the beach,
Salt water slowly nearing.
While I do not enjoy the water,
My sun-burnt legs are searing.

Cool water covers my sand-caked thighs,
Washes discomfort away.
If life was like the beach,
Troubles would be soaked with that salty spray.

Look into my eyes.
Look into them.
Will you dare be the one
who'll look into my eyes
and say i know you're not okay?
I'm tired of hiding behind a facade.
Faking. Faker. Fake.
Please, don't intensify the problem;
Be a part of the solution.

I confronted the space between us;
I looked her right in the eyes.

Perplexed, I questioned her existence,
but she gave me a sly smile.

"If it's answers that you're after,
my dear, don't waste your breath.

Only time will sort and simmer
the mess inside your head."

She turned and scurried off
before I could object;

But love, she got me thinking,
about the heart that I protect.

The walls built high around my heart,
the soldiers and their swords.

From whom am I so guarded?
Who do I fear the most?

My love who holds the power alone,
holds me close tonight.

I need you to love me.
Is that so hard to do?
I have the gracious love of others,
but the thing is, it's not you.

I want you to want me.
Don't you want it too?
I can see the longing in your eyes,
it's one you can't subdue.

Don't lie to me.
Can you tell me the truth?
Foundations are not built on lies;
let's not be uncouth.

Don't make me cry.
Are you empowered when I'm broken?
Could these words that bring such pain,
just be left unspoken?

If you do these things, you'll get my love;
my love, my time, my heart.
I trust you, and I love you.
Please, don't tear me apart.

I hear "I love you" every day,
and many other things.
These words warm me
from head to toe;
yet, they possess a certain sting.

"Actions speak louder than words",
I always say in return
to a certain man,
who doesn't have time
to care, hope, or discern.

I turn my head away,
mumbling of false guarantees
(both past and present).
I look in his eyes, get out of the car,
and think *"Remember me."

As we sat at lunch that day
(it seems so long ago now),
I tried to explain the ins
and outs of my breakup,
but burst into tears instead.
You're a boy,
and I forgive you for that;
but just like the typical boy,
you didn't quite know
how to hold
a sobbing female.
Figures.
But you tried anyway,
and I appreciate it.
In one fluid motion,
your arms were about me,
holding me to your chest
while I tried to refill my lungs with air.
Even through the snot and tears,
I could smell your laundry detergent,
and was comforted.
In that moment,
I could feel your heart race.

*But what you'll never know is mine did too.

The most beautiful smile I've ever seen
was accompanied by crinkled eyes,
and a figure so lean
(and don't forget those laugh lines!)
It lit up every room, and brightened any day,
and the eyes above it sparkled with compassion,
Until Death's cold grip snatched her away.

Close your heavy eyes.
Let Sleep bless your weary soul.
The day fades away.

The warm breezes toss
My hair all about my face.
Spring, You have been missed.

I sat by myself
In that corner booth
Until you looked my way.

And when you did,
Somehow, I'd lost the courage
To say what I'd come to say.

I wanted you back
In my embrace,
I wanted to be in your arms.

I wanted you to hold
And protect me, to calm me
When I'm alarmed.

You approached me,
With a sinister face. . .
(A face unfamiliar to me)

You made it clear that
I was, in fact, the last person
That you wanted to see.

When you uttered those words,
I'd not a clue as to
What to say to you.

I grabbed my purse,
Stood up and thought,
*"Our parting was way over-due."

If you only knew
the details of my past...
If you could give me
a love that would last...
If you could heal me
without a cast...

Then I'd tell you everything,
and this gap would be surpassed.

If you would forgive me
and hold me tight...
If you would just see me
in a different light...
If you could do this
then I just might...

Let the skeletons in my closet
come into the light.

In the dreams of longing,
the dreamer hurts.
Knowing life is not this way,
here in dreams he cannot stay;
yet, these thoughts he attempts to avert.

Oh dreamer! Enjoy the fantasy!
Experience what life cannot bear
before your youth disappears,
before your joy turns into tears!
Dare to dream everywhere.

Baseless words
fueled by hate.
Just keep
your mouth shut.

I look into the mirror,
but who's looking back?
She's trying to please everyone,
to make up for what she lacks.

This girl craves approval,
from the man two hours away.
She's crying out for attention,
by losing all that weight.

Who is this girl looking back?
Surely she can't be me.

I gasp for air
that simply isn't
mine to
breathe.

The shattered glass
severed the silence
between our breaking
hearts.

Your rusty gate screeches ajar,
Signaling my arrival.
(I know that you see me,
But I tip-toe ever so slowly
Down past your beloved car)

I firmly knock on your bright red door,
But you pretend to be out.
I'm sure that you're there,
But you're probably just scared
Of me, who you refer to as "*****".

I no longer need you as a crutch.
In fact, I don't need you at all.
I take a bat to your windows,
to your door, my key
(Guess you won't be forgetting me.)
Hope your repairs don't cost too much.