I set my cruise on the highway and
am passed by a red AMC Eagle.  
This red rusty AMC Eagle has a
wind shied covered in frost because,
I'm guessing, the defrost motor burned
up in a bakelite mushroom cloud from the
dashboard.  
It is held together with duct tape
and grit.  The pilot sits behind his cardboard
console ludicrously warm in winter parka,
scarf,
hat
and gloves.

I pass him waving dressed
in my tshirt and shorts.
Driving in my new, awesomely
economical car.
Four dashboard vents dump lava warm air
to keep me pleasingly toasty.
The pilot will never understand that I wave
not at his expense, but in envy.  The billboard
on my right says it all,
If I have to explain you wouldn't understand.

In class the teacher asked
To write a list of our bad habits
Your name showed up in my list
Twice

By that time
I knew I would fall in love
With anything that would remind me
Of how it felt to be alive

I was taught that roses can grow anywhere
And that I had to be careful
Whose heart I choose to grow them
My bad

They told me I deserved better
But the ones I deserved
Were chasing girls
They didn’t

I learned the hard way
That life is much like a party
You arrive at your fullest
And get out like ****

Falling in love reminds me of being drunk
Not matter how bad the hangover is
You would still drink again
Because the feeling it gives you
Is indescribable



I know I’m getting older
Because my childhood dream
Of being invisible
Has turned into a nightmare

The edges of my soul
Are sharper now
I’ve got some demons inside
Don’t get too close darling

Fire raises like a work of art
In front of me
And it keeps me from seeing
It’s burning my life to ashes

You could have stopped all of this
But you ran away
Like a poem
With feet
Arms
And a heartbeat

"She's so full of life" my teacher said.
So why do I wish I was dead.
"She's extremely bold"
My neighbor says, so why is my heart so cold.
"Her eyes are so pure" my mother says but I'm not quite sure.
I've seen evil and instead of fighting it, I became it.

I'm lazy.

I'm ugly.

I'm fat.

I'm crazy.*

Go away.

You're obsessed with your boyfriend.

Who is rude.

Stop mocking my poetry.

It hurts.

Sitting in a corner all alone
Refusing to talk and feeling cold to the bone
I have isolated myself from people
To keep safe from all the bad and evil
But this isn't really me

I'm driving all my friends away
And I know they'll stop trying one day
I'm alive but I'm barely breathing
But I know this isn't really me

I crave you,
And everything you are.
I miss you,
More than anyone, by far.
I love you.

A poet in love is like a match soaked in gasoline,
And when a poet falls in love,
With someone no more than another poet themselves,
A catastrophe is created.

It takes a strange courage to submit to stasis
a gentle acceptance to admit to accordance
a small release to move with grace.

It takes a surprising effort to allow joy to enter
to reveal my belly with trust for all the world,
to allow my hangdog face to return to the kennel.

I watch many move in cool hues, violets and blues,
the slow step of broken people, crushed by crushes, worn with work
as the common connecting thread, the rope bright red held by toddlers at daycamp so no one gets lost.

Sadness has become a language, a lingo so powerful that crowded rooms have little else to say. Whomever heralds the heaviest woe wins. Misery begets fine company. I've watched friends form from frayed souls that fate has patched together, I have watched lovers born from mourning.

I'm so tired of weeping. I'm not sad anymore.

I want to throw open every pair of crossed arms I see like shutters on locked windows. I seek the bravery to tell the world how happy I truly am and accept it as something other than a defeat- I want to laugh even though it will set me apart.

If I can light up a single room it will be enough. A tiny sun may feel lonely, but if it burns bright the rest will orbit.

Never will I permit the easy current of melancholy to drown me.

No more will I hide from the beauty of my life.