You asked me what I want
But how do you mean?

Like a wish?
Because it's always been a dream of mine
to fly with my own wings
or to control time
so that maybe I'd get enough sleep
and I could draw out the memorable moments until I'm sick of them
and then
maybe
sometimes when I need a break I could just stop everything
and focus on the serene silence of a world frozen in place

But does this wish have to obey the rules of this reality?
because if that were the case
then I could wish for the attention of that one boy
the one with the electricity in his fingertips
and that might temporarily please me

Or I could wish myself convenience
I could wish that my hoodie strings never crept uneven
I could wish that my nails stayed short and neat
so I didn't have to cut them
I could even wish that I knew everything there was to know

Or I could wish for something to better the world
I could wish that natural disasters were a myth
I could wish that 'pretty' didn't mean anything more than the empty breath of air and intangible vibrations that it actually is
That it didn't have any more impact than 6 letters of graphite should

Or I could wish for something to better myself
I could wish for better handwriting
so maybe I can convince myself that my words are worth the paper they stain
Or I could wish for endurance
Or effortless conversation skills
Or pristine work ethic-
something I can use to my advantage in the future to ensure success.

Or I could just wish for success.
I could wish for the job of my dreams
endless money
the perfect family
but where's the fun in that?

I could even use my wish to help someone else
cure someone of their terminal cancer
Hell-
I could wish up a cure for cancer!

I could wish that mosquitoes didn't exist
or that I had a photographic memory
or that I lived somewhere I could wear flip flops in January
or that I would never age, never feel pain
I could wish for an A on my next science test
or that poverty inversely reflect humanity

But you know what I think?
I think it's human nature to feel discontent
and I think
that's vital
to the evolution of the human race

I think that we need it
to continue
to grow
and better ourselves

So what do I want?
What's my one wish?

I wish that I could believe in the magic of the stars peeking through tonight's sky

the truth is no one ever taught me how to fix a flat tire or how to ask for help or what love was even good for in the first place

and the truth is that the cookie was good but the lemon icing wasn't and the truth is baking should be done without any kind of lemon at all

and the truth is i wish you'd hold me close enough that our skin fused together and i could burrow into your spine and learn all the things you won't teach me

and the truth is you were never good at making eye contact but i dare you to look at me long enough that i can trace the line that connects your iris to your pupil and count how many shades of black a person can produce

and the truth is i don't know if the grass has fingerprints but i know that yours are cigarette stained and no better at letting go than mine

and the truth is i am a dump site and you are an inhale and i am clockwork and you are a melody and i can't keep my teeth off your eloquence

and the truth is my feet are covered in acrylic paint from leaving smudged footprints in sparkly things

and the truth is i don't want you all to myself but you can pretend i'm yours when i'm engulfed in the ocean and making it hard for you to breathe

and the truth is i'm looking for a different kind of intimacy from you

and maybe it's just some teenage girl talking but the truth is that i want to drown with you. i want to burn with you. i want to scream with you so violently that the body that crushes my lungs crumbles and i become a balloon for real this time

and the truth is, if you hadn't called me beautiful, i would have mistaken last night for a paradise i don't believe in

Darling oh divine
Running on my mind again

Lost in his design
Destined for the ****

He said "I am delighted" "You are the light of mine"
I know where this is going
Please don't go on

Dear Marissa,
Have I ever told you how magnificently beautiful you are?
Yup, as graceful as a White orchid.
You don't believe me do you?
What is crazy is that you are so stuck in your insecurities
You see,
You're perfect, don't worry.
You'll be happy one day, don't cry, don't become brittle
Please my dear you are more than your fears and a yucky cigarette
You stand tall and strong because nothing this world has to offer is enough to fix your heart
So don't fall into it and most importantly walk in caution because it will trap you
And although I don't want to admit it, it will be harder than anything to get out
It's like you're a mouse
With enormous dreams
Then, a room full of cheese
Instant gratification
And TRAP! you're stuck

But don't settle for the cheese of this world because your heart needs more than just cheese to fill it
And I know cheese is good, but trust me that is not what you are looking for
You're looking for the wine and you won't find it here
You have to go outside and pick the grapes yourself,
Ferment them,
And patiently wait till they age just to your liking.
It will take time my love,
But you are strong
You will find your wine one day,
I Promise
And if you need help,
WHO SAID YOU COULDN'T HAVE A SIDEKICK?

i ate
my weight
ten times over ten

all green leaves.

now i encase
my fat body's face
in chrysalis
and
become, soupy,
torturous bliss
awaiting wing-ed
grace.

i awake
and crack the
membrane
crawl dishrag damp
out into summer's
kind light
and slowly
spread my wings.

please,
do not think
me vain.

but as i await
my wings to dry
and the glorious dust
to set.
i wonder at the ironic beauty,
that i, the fat catterpillar,
has become,so fine
and delicate,
an exquisite pallete upon
the canvas sky....

i take flight and find
freedom....
is a state mind
that flits upon the wind
and knows,
dfrom the beginning
             beauty is always
                            from within.

How can you take
A knife to my chest
And be confused
When I say that
I'm broken?
I never asked you
To dress my wounds
Or undress my soul,
Yet the very hands
Holding me together
Are the ones
I'm afraid of.

The moon is beautiful in her solitude.
From afar she is like a pearl, pure white
Like milk.
Though she knows multitudes:
She is not white like a pearl, smooth like
silk.
Surfaces are cratered, tumultuous, grey and not white.
Sometimes she is shy, disappearing behind clouds and shadowed trees,
As if she were scared of her own light.
She waxes, she wanes, she decreases
And fades, only to become brighter than ever.
She knows what it is like to be ever -changing, outshining everything in
Her splendor.

Like her, I want to illuminate dark skies.