My childhood has been erased from the walls
And replaced with pillows just for decoration
And spotless carpets, with no sign of spilled drinks
All the "I Love You" notes are now packed in boxes

The only way out is through the closet
Where there lies an old refrigerator box
Shoved far into the back and out of sight
Funny how my time machine has lost its glow

On the back of the box, someone left me a note
"Remember, I am a Time Machine, Kara," it said
I wondered who the note was from
Until I saw it was signed with my own hand.

The child is never gone until you let it slip away
From the ever so gentle hold is has on your sweater
Reminding you to see the world in brighter colors
The colors of neon sidewalk chalk.

You are entitled, they say
I asked for too much on christmas.
I asked for time, and wished for difference.

She stands on stilts and judges outsiders
This is all for you, she claims
From behind the shattered window pain.

I gave birth to you, she says.
You are an adult.
Scratch that.
You are a child.
Strikethrough.
You are a burden.

I am crippled without her
I am broken when she's near
She doesn't want to hear

She's too far gone.

Dear Christmas,

You have left me with tears
Too many times before.
Reminding me that I am a nomad.
A wanderer.
Pushed out of the nest to fall to the unforgiving ground,
Crushing my beak.
You have laid me on velvet
and ripped it from under me.
You have burnt my desire
and suctioned any leap of excitement from my stomach
You have crushed me with ex lovers
Draped me with winter scarves
when I am going to the tropics.
Covered me in a blanket of snow
falling all over my natural being.
I am not entitled to happiness today.
I am elected as a fool.
And stomped upon, turning my soul inside out.
My grandmother would turn in he grave,
Knowing you live the way you do.
Christmas, where is the joy?
Why can't I be in the city,
Feeding the homeless turkey and pie?
But instead I am mourning over a scarf.
Who have I become?
And who are you?

I never knew how to fit you into a poem.
Because for you, words are felt like knives or hot tubs.
We both live in fantasy, where romance exists.
But at the same time, you are logical and honest as a compass.
And I always said I preferred metaphors to similes.
I always described my ex lovers as having a face
shaped like an hour glass.
But with you, I can't see the sand falling, or the time ending.
I see your eyes genuine and filled with passion for success.
You wonder how it will all fall into place.
It will. It always does.
You are the train I was waiting to take,
out of my cyclic masochistic nature
Into a world of senseless sense,
fantasy and logic
and cartoons in real life form.
You are the ocean;
We are the ocean,
Filled with possibilities.
I have always said that the ocean
is where I belong.
Even when you need solitude
to think and write and believe.
I will always be here for you.

Too many holes, he said,
Referring to my ears.
Or perhaps my chest.
Thumping, squeezing blood faster

and faster.

Raging, thump, hatred, thump
Air escapes my lips but the words
too evil to be spoken.
So my eyes are driven into the seams of the carpet.

Only one little boy knows about the airplane
That will take me to a land unknown
Where it is okay to believe in mermaids.
And romance.

Where it is okay to pull the scarves
out of the hole in my chest
faster and faster I pull and pull
until all I am left with is me.

Lets get high together
off of dice and shrimp scampi
while the rain runs down the glass
and reminds us of the ocean

They say that eighty percent of the ocean
is still unexplored.
Trapped in small crevices
are mermaids who sing of love

I want to meander through its darkest
and deepest; where blue turns black
I want to see the tears of small creatures
who have never seen the sun

And then I wakeup to a heartbeat
Of a ship I know will never be abandoned
In the branches of his neck
I mend all the pieces.

You like to pretend she's me, don't you Miss December?
When you watch the dice fall from her hands like they’re broken
Or when you accidently call my name down the abandoned streets,
But realize I have fallen off the map?

Miss December, do you remember watching me cry over girls in green and white?
Do you remember me tossing my textbooks down the hallway like Frisbees,
Only to have you chase me to the nearest empty corner?
My eyes would shutter like paper, and I would ask you to turn the page.

Do you notice the scars left on your ankle after a humid day?
Miss December, do you remember the days I spend mending your wounds?
Only to realize you were too broken and shattered for one woman to heal.
As if lightning through your temporal lobe would be the only escape to sanity.

I held your hand through dying dogs and relapse.
I told you, you could do anything.
Did I push you too hard and shatter the last glass?
Is that why you turned the purple car away that day?

For once in always
Nobody is home
And I rummage deeper
And deeper
Into the depths of the paper stacks
Crumpled notes smeared with blood
From broken hearts
Letters of apology stained
With lie after lie after lie

They stabbed her in the chest
Like martyrs for love
But they ever so slowly
Killed her.
She didn’t eat a lot.
She didn’t have the words
To say, “I’m afraid you’ll leave”
Until now

When she leaves him.
Years after he pushes her children
Poisons her soul with words foul
Enough to eliminate it
And after she scraped my teenage life
From the sidewalk she said
Know this: it was never your fault.
And she left him.

Erased from memory as if he never happened
Crumped notes in my room
Stained with Rubinoff and milky pens
Shoved in shoe boxes
For the next me to find one day
In the paper stacks

Terrified you will be another one
just another one
who doesn't call
or leaves me trapped
behind my own closed doors
just waiting for you
to open them.

They have been closed for centuries.

I learned
to stop waiting
when I was seven.
let downs are more
painful than any burn.
the flick of a match.
a scarring wound.

When he didn't show up
to my birthday party.
birthday parties are dumb, he said.
but it would have meant
everything
if he came.  

Don't be the one
who pushes me down
head to pavement
a breath I can't catch
soccer ball to stomach
leaving me with words upon words
that I can't say.

You said I should open my doors
Let me in, you said.
I told you my locks are broken.
I tried to explain to you
the depths of these doors
and the patterns of their locks.
And somehow I have let you in
just a foot.
And you scurried for the inner most treasures
caressing them, tenderly.

Void.
Empty.
Lifeless.
Most importantly, misunderstood.
By who?
You.
Me.
Today I witnessed
Betrayal.
By who?
The world when it rains for days.
Myself when I turn my back on others.
Never will I be good enough.
For who?
you?
No.
Me.
I've been caught in Charlotte's web.
Trapped between a fog covered window,
and a spider.
In an abandoned house.
Abandoned by who?
Him.
Her.
Their names written in dust.
My name sealed across their lips.
As they travel far away from here,
on an empty boat.

I never thought about geese migrating south
they always come back
to their mating ground,
never to once mate abroad.
Away from their home they fly miles
brisk winds over feathers,
death of loved ones
mid-flight.
Before takeoff, they huddle in the sun patches
soaking up the warmth of the last days
before their adventure begins.

I never though about the trees
and their intertwining branches.
Reaching for love in each direction
Branching off of ideas
Death of leaves mid-year
Only to liven again though the seasons.
The cycle goes on, and I stand still.
Where is my cycle?
Should I migrate, take an adventure?
Should I branch out new ideas?
When I huddle for warmth,
how do I know
where the best sunspots are?
Certainly not under the branches.
They say the apple falls not far
from the tree.
Will I do it like they did?

The crease between his eyes
when he laughs. The fact that
he is the epitome
of beautiful. The other fact,
that he
can't
stand
it
when I call him beautiful.
He is beautiful,
in the essence of the word.
Because he is ever so genuine.
Innocent like a baby bird.
Because he is a bulldozer,
pushing through the rough terrain;
he makes it look easy.
Gentle, a feather grazing a cheek
Passionate; fire unfolding and unfolding
into ferocious flames; intimate coals,
sizzling with heat as they huddle.
Because he bobs like a turtle,
draws cartoons that are real
and sparks my renewing imagination.
The fact that he withstood the bubonic plague
and kept me on the other side.
The fact that a poem is nowhere near
enough to explain
what he means to me.
He is the mountains.

The prisoner inside my rib cage thumps
against my chest and I wish I could let her
leap out of my body; pound across fields
and race through the landscapes like she wants to.
But locked away, inside myself she will stay.
She used to pound loudly like a boulder and I couldn't
ignore her. She screamed for freedom. My lungs would collapse
with pins and needles and my legs would betray my body like
jello, unable to keep me standing. I couldn't figure out what she
wanted from me. Just simply to be free from me? No. And It wasn't
until recently that I realized what she wanted. She wanted to know
she was loved. She wanted to feel free from the past. I knew she didn't want to
hurt me. She didn't want to be a prisoner to herself anymore.

Yesterday I sat next to a boy on the swings; holding hands and laughing
as we went higher and higher. His smile made her jump, and she danced
inside my chest like a ballerina, and she was happy. She was in love. And she knew it from the way she leaped across my chest as if it were a stage.

My boy's beard is red
and it feels so familiar
and it took until I was
smashed, cocked, ******, HAMMERED
to notice. Why do I always follow the pattern
of his face like a map; why does it feel like I
have finally found my old blanket, resting in
its plastic bag, in pieces; in pieces.
I asked him if he liked pumpkins. He said
yes because he knew that's what I wanted. He
said he baked the seeds. And I remembered loving them.
I was never good at soccer and I refuse to play
in the games at school. They think I'm a fool. But I
know why. Because instead of soccer I did cartwheels.
And I picked the dandelions. And I wove my fingers
through the net like artwork and I was Picasso. I was
Picasso. And his voice echoed through my head like
a football stadium. I was never good at football. I hid behind the
trees and plucked the peddles from the daffodils
one by one like mermaids do. And my father, he never cared
for daffodils. And he never cared for pumpkins. And the echo
from the stadium was faint to him. Faint to him. But to me,
it was a symphony. A cluster of voices from within.
And
I never doubted it.

I told him I loved yellow roses
and dandelions.
we danced across the campus like lovers;
I talked, he didn't.
He didn't need to.
Interwoven fingers, high hopes, and
the pages of my sketchbook mixed with tears,
stained with charcoal. The same expression used by primitive men
in the caves of the world.
Lacking words, but speaking wonders. I asked him
to say what he meant, and I saw it in his eyes. He was
never able to recite lectures about love but he knew,
because he remembered the yellow roses; and the beauty
of the weeds.

There are times when
I think that I can see each
individual atom spinning on its axis,
moving around on solid objects. It has
never rained this hard, and my heart has
never felt so secure. He told me Steven King
married a poet. He spoke naturally of spain,
and wondered if it looked the same
as the pictures.
Today my art teacher asked us to see
life in anything but symbols. "What if a face
is no longer a face", she said.
"But something you
have never seen before."
I told him
I don't dream
in symbols.
It has never rained this hard,
and I have never once
been happier. But this nausea
has lasted for days
and I can't get it out of my mind.
I want to bleed into sheets and
sheets of paper and place my mark as permanent.
For what is blood,
a symbol? No.
Because when I bleed
I think that I can see the atoms. floating though
the sea of whatever you call it
and I cry.
When blood mixes with tears
you have strength again.
Will it show you, that I am not a symbol?
It has never rained this hard.

I am still amazed
that the gentle white seeds
and the vibrant, alive yellow petals
are the same flower. I feel
both against my fingertips,
and realize how different they feel. I
am in love with it's gentle touch,
but filled with sorrow as the seeds
fly away with the wind. I saw a
young child, blowing away
the seeds of the dead "flower"; creating new
weeds that will blossom yet again.

I never noticed the complexity of the forest
And the difference between the branches
Some forbidden from growth
Hindered by their sisters
So they grow into different shapes
Avoiding the obstacles’ as they come
And I, I am the artist
And she is the forbidden ocean
I can’t seem to put her on paper
The winds catch my pencil
And I am left to drown in the waves
Until I remember that the tide goes down
And I can swim to the trees.

I waited for you to come along
I gently asked you to leave
But your presence is always on my mind
You're a boulder collapsing my lungs
And you're the silence as I try not to notice
You're the lurking beast of reality
That is ever so daunting
You are the epitome of disaster
You are the papers, overflowing the waste basket
That i have crumpled and stained
You are the screeching sound; heard perfectly
Over a room filled with voices
You are the pain in my stomach
When my life folds in on itself
The tender skin of my abdomen
The fire inside my throat
The numbness of my limbs
The whisper that says "You're not worth this"
The itch to run;
The second glance
Over my shoulder
That allows me to realize
You don't even exist.

Your hair was shorter than I remembered
Your figure slimmer and very different
from this past December
You're tears fused with the forrest rain
And flew off your hair as you ran through the brush
Your voice, piercing and shrieking in pain


Starring directly into the sun,  your silhouette appeared
I never thought I would run from you
It was then that I knew I needed him here
He was waiting with open arms where the sun met the rain
A part of the woods I had never been
I entangled myself in his arms; ran my fingers through his mane

It was then that you realized, this time I wasn't coming back.

We sat behind the book stacks
and talked about our lives,
to an audience of novels.
You made funny noises
and talked about Australia.
I emptied my thoughts to the shelves
and draped my emotions over the light fixtures.
You were awkward,
you bit my lip when I kissed you.
I loved it.
I want you to feel my admiration.
Open your doors
and let me inside.
Lay with me behind the stacks
and value our existence.
Libraries carry many stories.

I saw you sitting in your kitchen
Dead, but lingering in your own absence
You were younger
Grazing your hands against the apple place mats
Your nails a pale purple, beautiful and no longer crooked
You were no longer in pain
Your hands would glide through the air
Without the look of hurt I used to see in your eyes
Each time you moved a finger
The friction of your joints
Burning, and hindering movement

I watched him fixing the picture frames
Folding blankets on the back of your favorite chair
His body ancient and crippling,
His mind stained and imprinted
His soul lonely, lacking something
But his faith notices your faint linger
The smell of you still trapped in the couch cushions
Your presence everlasting in this home
He passes you, sitting at the table
With your gentle hands
And for the first time in weeks
He smiles.

Because you pretended
to like my playhouse.
I tried to lock you in
but my three year old body
could not brace
you back enough
to make you stay.

Because you kept secrets
in your suitcase
during work trips.
And I wanted to know
what you kept in there.
So I listened
behind closed doors.

I would graze my hands
over your face;
prickly and the color
of pumpkins.
And I longed for you
to stay home this time.
Why would you need
to go to work
when it rained?

Because you took the chair
we used to sit on
when we played
with cow puppets.

I still have one.

Because you were my dad,
and I was your first child.

You showed up late
to your mother's funeral.
All because my stepmother
was too busy
mourning the loss
of her iced coffee.

That's not the father
that I used to try and lock
in my playhouse.

Because you never
called me back
when i apologized
for asking too much.

Because you
left
lied
cheated
manipulated
and lost your daughter.

But still
I can't
bring myself
to say
it was your fault.

Maybe it was your brain tumor
slowly ******* away
at your morality.
Maybe it was my
inability to cope
with catastrophe
as a child.
Maybe it
was too much
to be caught
in a place
you never wanted to be in.

Or maybe it's just life.

I find myself
back in 6th grade
with a boy
i liked.
my heart
would pound
at recess
when he
yelled "sup?"
across
the
football
field.
Now i sit
with a boy
that i like &
i wonder how
i came here
and found
him sitting
on a couch
with fluttering
eyes.
A kiss?
I take it back.
No, do it again.
place your desires
on my lips
and taste
the bittersweet
lust
and break away
from the
fear, the norms.
There is no awkward here;
perish its existence.
There is only us.

Stuck
in a never ending cycle
of being
dropped
on my ***
each and every time
the ride ends

Picked up and
dropped
smashed
left
abandoned
and lost

It is time
for me to end
the cycle
to save myself from the
pain
torture
heartache

unable to breath
without the thought of you
yet unable to move the blood
through the pathways of my veins
with you here

all I can think
is about the next time
the ride will end
and she will be standing
blonde and beautiful
at the ticket line
holding your hand.

I will be left
in the dust
dropped
from the ferris wheel
And I have used all my tickets.

Me:

Cruising down the left lane
Grey skies, and makeup smudged from the night before
A night of confusion, lost with no direction
Until now, on the highway
I know exactly where I am going

Street signs are dusted with flakes of snow
I envision the night before
Arms around my waist
Is that where they are supposed to be?
A kind of unwanted taste; is this the right spice?

Trapped in my mind I don't notice the lights
Flash, double flash, and then flashing blue
A state trooper, official and firm
Belching his words which then suicide on the pavement
Screaming like an inner child, yelling like a large man

My brain gets trapped mid-belch
Like his words have pinned me down; they are boulders
And my mind rushes back to years ago
My stepfather marching, screaming, pulling
And my head hits the cabinet

I'm awake, a ticket in hand drenched with tears
Before I can say a word, I look in my mirrors and he is gone
Click, shift, back in drive; back in my mind
As I venture home, sobbing, cursing
Screaming to the music as loud as a want; nobody can hear a thing.

Him:

And to this day I can only see her face in my mirror
I could not stand to see her suffer
It was a bug, she said; an insect in her mind
fighting with the neurons and itching for control
And I will never forget the day the insect won.

I could have been there, I could have stopped it.
All of those close calls, all of those sleepless nights
All of those trips to therapists
And I should have seen it coming.
I never knew she would really jump.

Drivers today, they are imbeciles
Left lane dwellers, I've had enough
**** the people, the emotions, the petty thoughts
**** the ignorant college students, the young ones
So I pulled her over.

The same hair, eyes green like my daughters.
She hated me, she despised me, I had done it again.
My words were like *****, up and out
Hasty and volatile; but I emotionless
And I'm off again down the dusty road.

You have played softball for years
You know the rules
You only get three strikes
4 strikes?
What a generous umpire

Take a seat in the dugout
You've struck out
There is no doubt

Batter up?

she swore she would never do it again,
through labored breathing;
and with each puff
he envisions her insides
her swelling lungs,
tar filled and stained.
"Another drink?" She asks.
"No, I've seen dimmer lights," he says.
And they suffocate the room
with silence.
He stares out the window
into the darkness of evening.
"I had a vision, a different one.
Neither of us had labored hands."
"I don't understand," she says.
"Like this table, it's too sturdy,
and this door has too many locks.
And you, too many scars."
"You think too much," she says.
At that, he exits the room
as dawn begins.

Run outside to the car
in the dark
in a thunderstorm.
Listen to
the dogs bark as
Earth's drums repeat.
The beats are soft
and then become louder
as a band of clouds
marches across the skyline.
Board an airplane
at 2am
Sing softly a tune
you learned
while your sister
was in the shower.
but skip imitating
the soothing pitter patter
of droplets.
Watch other planes
take-off but be
not afraid of flight.
Date somebody
completely different.
Watch them
and know they may
not be forever, but enjoy.
Lend out your heart
in many places;
for it will stumble
upon mountains
and valleys.
From a valley,
the view isn't as great
but the climb out
is worth it.
The heart may race.
The breathing pick up pace
Headaches
Heartaches
We've got them all.
And valleys will be valleys.

I've always been one to deviate,
swimming the opposite direction of the current.
Thrashing to be free;
freedom never came easy.
A flower, stationary but sending seeds
flying, busily though the soft breeze.
Have you ever seen them parachute?
Landing on a nest of soil, and somehow,
some way, the perfect sequence of events occur
and a new flower is created.
A dog ate a few.
A few landed in a small puddle,
and a few created life.
I have been eaten alive,
left abandoned in a puddle,
and I have lived.
I'm alive?
Well that was some coincidence.
I'll lean over, and let the bees pollinate
all flowers around me
as i continue to blossom.

you're so vain
you think i would wait around
wondering aimlessly though life
unable to live on without the thought of you
you left me stranded on an island
where not one part of my life was clear of your traces
like your footprints were un-washable, tattooed, and stained
but now i have grown stronger
you are a distant memory
a faded image; a possible mirage
however, i do not regret you
i know those three years held a purpose
they changed me from a wild teen
to an actual human being
but the change did not come from you
it came through you, but from the inner depths of myself
you were my life jacket; but i have always known how to swim
you were my lifeline when things got rough;
but i never needed you.
I don't need a dish towel of a person
to keep me standing.

You stare off into the distance and reminisce  
talking to the wall, speaking words and
laughing to yourself about your memories.
As if a movie is playing softly in your head
with brilliant melodies in the background.
Your eyes flicker like lights and you're in another world,
talking to me, but you've gone elsewhere;
to the depths of your mind. You travel from the valleys of sorrow
to the high and joyous peaks of the mountain tops.
You ramble through and all i can do
is look at you, talking to me; but to nobody.
For a second i catch a glimpse of
your eyes and you're back in my world. I feel the
pain of your thoughts rushing back to reality
like the blood coursing through your veins.
The air rushing out of your
tar filled lungs with a large sigh, and you say:
"I'm sorry for rambling." Then kiss me sweetly,
and you look at me in the eye for the first time.
For a second it looks like the memories have ceased.
You kiss softly, then deeply and i happily drown in you.
My cheek grazes the prickles of the hair on your face
and your lips travel to my neck; and you keep them there.
A pulse rushes through my body; a rush as large as the pain
you carry and the baggage
you refuse to let go of.I tense up,
and I feel vulnerable
as if the pain you are feeling
is suddenly contagious like the flu. You feel me
tense within seconds, even before
my brain told my muscles to tighten,
it's like you knew a second
before the neurons did. You tell me to relax,
and my body responds to the hum of your voice,
and for once I am calm. I let you take me,
and I feel warm and wonderful
with your body against mine. For the first time,
I just let go and experience the wonderful
and natural feeling of you
and we both, for a moment, drop baggage.

soft, yet cold as it piles up
on the top of the wooden fence
behind the farm house
white as crystal, no imperfections
it sparkles in light, hard for the eyes
but still, i continue to stare
for a moment, I hear a whistle
calling my name from behind the large oaks
I run for you, through the layers of untouched snow
leaving my scarf loosely wrapped around the fence
cautiously I approach you
I ask why you are here
why you have come
but to that you cannot respond
you stand still, arms to your chest
I can see myself in your eyes, deep blue
the light glistening from below
and then you leave
as abruptly as you had come
without further questions
I grab my scarf
and venture into the farm house.

You approached me in a dream
illuminated, with eyes glassy and wide
you told me we were meant to be together
and even in a dream it was hard to decline.
After dismissing your request
I saw the angry eyes
piercing with fury,
confusion;
eyes small as slits,
But then came the tears.
Welling up inside and bursting
with passion
at the seams of your eyelids.
Although I could not bear
to see you cry;
to see you scared and pained
with psychosis,
even in a dream
I knew
I could never
take
you
back.

cervical cancer
ovarian cyst
open your mouth
here's my fist
stomach ulcer
an inflammation disease
got pneumonia
from just a sneeze
inflamed pelvis
stomach cancer
shut the **** up
you don't know the answer
heart attack
blood clots
watch me as
my insides rot
my brain thinks
I've had every disease
but its funny
i've never had any of these

my self has two parts
each illuminated with the essence of right
or wrong
my instincts are corrupted by emotion
my thoughts spiral in and out of my mind
each a lyric with its own tune
but the song lacks actual melody.

Softly, slowly, drifting away
out of my body to some other place
a fantasy I only know exists
in the depths of my confused song.

glassy eyed and lacking breath
i shake away
a pencil in hand
writing nothing but words
that may or may not
have any meaning
to the overall sound
of the world's symphony.

You came to me once
In a dream of my childhood
Barbie and Ken, walking together
They would dance like puppets
Their fate my control
I would dream and wish to be like Barbie
Beautiful, and loved.
My biggest dream, to go to prom with the man of my dreams.
I left barbie in the abyss, still dreaming to become her
To be loved by people, to be cherished, and to find my Ken
But it didn't work exactly as I hoped.
I found a Ken, but this Ken was a girl, Kendal.
and with confusion and some doubt I stayed with her
Through what could have been love, yet could have been fear
I rode through the waves, and stayed for three years
I never did end up going to prom with a boy of my dreams
I went with a girl in a dress, which people mistook for my friend,
with the thought that I would never actually find a date.
One day she finally mustered up the courage to let me free from her sea
I was alone, but alone was okay
I was free from the ties that had traveled with me through my teens.
Only a month back at college and the same thing happened again
A girl, and her soft nature pursued me
And that soft and recognized feeling, I could not refuse
And again, here I am
Unsure of what I want
Still with the fantasy of finding my dream boy
But maybe no boy will love me the way I wish for him to.
Maybe I am defective in his eyes, or lost
Or maybe I am just scared to leave such a comfortable presence...
That of a woman.
Are you a lesbian?
Never ask me that question.
You will never understand my thoughts
You will never set a label on me
And you are an ignorant *******
You can't approach me because you think I'm gay?
Then *******.
Go live in some ****** up world where everything has a label
Where no abstract concepts exist and you will perish under the tree labeled "forbidden fruit"
It will go into flames and you will perish not through fire
But at the thought of me.
Maybe I AM afraid
Maybe I don't KNOW what I want.
And maybe I'm a little insecure
But one thing I do know is that one day I will muster up courage
I will believe that people will not leave me
And I will have trust in men again
And I will stop being confused
And you will ALL see.
And no matter what I choose, It is MY decision
Not the worlds decision
Not fates decision
Not the governments decision
Not my friends' decisions
Not any man in the WORLD's decision
But Mine.
So good luck placing me in a category I don't belong in
Good luck racing to conclusions and underestimating my worth
Because I will find the missing key to my soul one day

I always tell you that in my eyes,
your face is shaped like an hour glass.
It is only a small amount of time,
just one last drop of sand
before you make me feel calm.
Like the world is suddenly safe,
and in your arms i can be me,
without the baggage of worry and fear
that i carry with me throughout my days.
Your sweet skin is soft, and smells like the wax of a candle.
When you enter a room, I look beside me for something
Why didn't I get any flowers?
Where is my box of chocolates for you?
You mesmerize me, baby.
You have me wrapped up in your serenity,
in your loving and docile nature,
and your sweet ability to lull me to sleep.
You whisper in my ear and i hear the sound of the ocean,
peace and quiet.
The seagulls silently float on the edges of the water
and your voice is the soft and carefree wind.
My heart is open, and ready for you
and it wants nothing more than for you to stay.
So for every today's tomorrow,
And for each wave that foams beautifully on the sand,
I love you.

They said that the forecast is for rain,
and that I should carry an umbrella.
I should be prepared for the strongest of storms,
keeping my body completely safe and dry.
I used to always carry my umbrella,
rain or shine I kept it close.
I would travel one hundred miles just to stay dry,
perhaps to the desert, farthest away from the sorrows of the rain.
But then I realized the rays of the sun,
beating deep and painful on my bare skin.
With each lovely beam comes the silent burning of flesh.
Did I forget that my umbrella could protect me from the sun's rays?
And thats when I realized, I could handle anything.

Here's to the women who have been let down;
touched or pushed too hard
broken lockets, broken hearts
the empty feeling of loneliness
as if we are an empty vase
we shine in the light
yet we are hollow with doubt
with past fears,
have you ever tried to break a vase with your hands?
fragile, yet sharp
eager to bear blood
not a lot, but just enough
but unlike a vase, we can be fixed
we can piece together our existence
like a puzzle
for the woman who cried herself to sleep
for the woman who was betrayed
for the woman who felt like a shattered vase
here's to you
here's to her.

I was told it was beautiful
when i cried, sprawled out on the carpet
thump of my heart, chest to floor, chest to floor
nails scratching the seams

I remember that day
we looked at the stars through the windshield
and you said I sighed beautifully
so I sighed, and kissed you deeply

I remember the day you brought me coffee
in hopes of getting me out of bed
and you said i looked beautiful in the morning
my eyes small as slits and my throat coarse

Then the day came
you were silent as a dear
tiptoeing on leaves with utter fear
your humiliated face stained white
you said I was beautiful

And I scratched my fingers into the carpet
eyes as small as slits, wet with tears
my throat unable to speak,
anything but a small sigh

take a hit and pass it on
pass and hit hand to lips, hand to lips
and watch the smoke rise into the vent
watch it swirl up, making its way into the sky
where it will mix with the air above us
watch the people, eyes like zombies
watch the chemical creation of the living dead
for some, it does not create
for those who touch lips to rolling papers and experience fits of spastic heartbeat
frozen in the state of panic enclosed in the alternate reality of disaster
catastrophe
memories.
we create fire, so let it burn, baby
let it seep into your lungs
an unwanted visitor on the inside
a wanted visitor in the time of things
so if you want to let it burn, baby
let it burn.
but remember zombies aren't meant to walk the Earth
or at least not the one we live in.

Hollow:
like the pitcher you used to pour me my drink
Scared:
as you walk towards me like a demon; possessed
Frozen:
like the ice you used to keep the alcohol just the right temperature

Until i pass out on your bed like a baby at nap time
Time has gone by, you're scared and you even cry
Your uncle cried too
You drove me back home as if we were mourning the death of christ
And I walked out
And I walked
And I walked
I walked through my front porch with makeup smudged
Eyes of a raccoon, unnoticed as I make my way upstairs
Blind, as I shower away the marks, the pain, the evidence
And I fall asleep again, on my bed
like a baby at nap time
Awake:
and I see your name on the screen of my phone
Sorry, you say.
And I hangup.
I put my phone on my dresser, and I scream into my pillow:
How could I be so stupid
How could I be so ignorant, mindless, dense
How could I watch myself be taken?
Well guess what?
You didn't take a THING from me
My soul is bound to me and my heart is kept safely in its case
Like your football trophy
You can take my virginity, but you can NEVER take my dignity
And I stand tall
And a year later I stand tall
And I grow older and move past those sleepless nights
And I fall asleep in my bed
like a baby at nap time
Because I can sleep, knowing that you will be the one left with the pain
Glass shards from your trophy fly through the room like bullets
And your heart breaks for it.
And you suffer sleepless nights for each and every women who fell onto your mattress.

It's about time that I realize it is inevitable
Gulping down one last breath of air
And with that, one last beautiful exhale
Trees know, for they are awake, always listening
They are the ones who show us that death has its colors.
The leaves are beautiful, baby
They pile up in the backyard
A compiled mass of lovely death
And we rejoice.
Like seasons, we have our time and it will come
Sometimes without further notice.
Like leaves, we will become part of the Earth
Each of us with different colors
My favorite color was always green
The color of life, and joy
But baby, thank you for allowing me realize
That the other colors are stunning.

I have problems with eating, sleeping, living
Existing.
I’m confused as to why people stick around
My head is ******
Perhaps inserted off balance in my skull
Living a life of its own,
That’s not mine.

I’m afraid to go to the doctor
Because I know he will finally say
There is something terribly wrong with you
And a match will light,
A catastrophe will begin,
And I’ve never been able to handle catastrophes.

And I will cry
But this is the only way
To get this “thing” out of myself
Because then the illness will be the problem
Not me.
And my reason for in-existence will be its fault
And I will sail away on an empty boat
With the tragedy out of my hands

And I’m so afraid of life
And I’m afraid of existence, in-existence
And I’m afraid to be gone from this world
The only place I know
But then again, sometimes it doesn’t feel like home.

An unnoticed magnetic effect
Soft words, and sullen glances
His persuasive being takes in my soul
And I am powerless

Hand to hand I am guided
His words merely noise
Where my mind creates the words
Apprehension, panic, guilt
Expressionless, feeble, and lost

There is no way out
I hear the latch on the door lock
Suddenly I am trapped
My thoughts fill the empty space in the room

Large hands move objects around
And travel to the crevices of my body
With no way out I stay silent and still
A chill is sent up my spine

I close my eyes and feel his body pressed up against my chest
My mind takes over my being
My echoing screams startle us both
My arms push him forcefully
My legs make a run for the door
Kicking objects
Kicking legs
Jimmying locks
I’m free

Stop one second in time
And think “what could become of this?”
Or make what could have been reality
Don’t settle for a life jacket
When you can have the red sea
Why did you come to me so suddenly
Why did you enter my life and allow me to love you
Because I don't see a reason why you can’t stay
I need someone to tell me I’m worth it
But I want to choose that person
I want that person to be you.
Hold me through it all
I can and will stand tall
I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before
Where have you been?

I will forever be touched my her entrance to my life
I saw her smile and it reached my heart like a wave to the sand
And I smiled too
I wouldn’t call her simply just my friend
I would call her my life long buddy;
My life long access to the simple things in life
That many forget to appreciate

What she has is not a syndrome, through my eyes
It’s an outlook on life
It's moments of sudden enlightenment
But if you miss it, it's forever gone
In the depths of her being

She will never be like a typical person
And neither will I
Because my life has been changed though her eternally
And without her a piece of my puzzle would be missing
And I would not be the same
Although her life is expected to be short
Although her life is simple
She will always be happy
And she will always remember she has a friend; a life long buddy
And so will I.