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?

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

A decomposition of carbon atoms

To mother nature as we came

Back to where life started from

From Earths crust to the rain


Remember that field of dandelions?

Every tree once bare grew buds

A group of us laid on our backs

Our feet were stained with traces of mud


We didn’t even need to talk

We only needed to exist

So one who travels up to heaven

Will be silent knowing this


A decomposition of carbon atoms

A person we loved we lost

His body cold, his hands lost touch

Our spirits pay the cost


For every tear we ever shed

For every saddened glance

For every dandelion in one field

This life is our one chance


There we lay in that same field

This time the stars shined bright

The dandelions have closed their buds

They’ve gone home for the night

by: Kara MacLean

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.

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.

Standing at the shoreline
Its like I’m freezing for the first time
Drizzles touch my body and melt my soul
This oceans completely out of control

There’s no stopping these waves
The winds been howlin’ like this for days
So get off your feet and look outside
And ill be standing there throwing pebbles at the shoreline

Without a towel, I dive right in
I feel a new life start to begin
Right behind me, dive in? you’re torn
I’ll catch you right before the storm

Together the Earth swallows us
My soul was picking up dust
You came along and made things new
The oceans never seemed so blue

Leave the shoreline before the rain
Don’t forget the day we came
Always remember, even on dry land
The girl who was always your greatest fan

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.

Standing on the side lines
Watching myself walk away
A spark went off
A decision made
Without a doubt in my mind
And without turning back
As I walk towards the office I see myself
But I walk through the eyes of a child
Walking though the doors of an elevator
Pushing his wheelchair, heavy as it seemed
The click of the wheels as they rolled over the metal
The silence as we both exist
Then the screams when the elevator comes to a stop
His flailing arms and my blurry vision
Indicating a sudden onset of panic in my mind
Banging his hands on the tray attached to his chair
I can barely see his face looking at me
He is trying to tell me something
Slowly he reaches for the panel
He touches the open button
We are free
His name was Joseph
Trapped in a body that constantly betrayed him
Communication impossible
Yet he knew
And I knew he was there
My mind started to betray me
And he was there for me
Just like I was always there for him
Fast forward, 12 years later
I remember him
And I remember the people with special needs
And how each and every one has touched my life
I continue to walk
I sign my name
Its time for a new beginning.

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.

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.

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.

It's sad to know you let me go
I thought for sure you were one in a million
I thought nobody wore their hat the same as you
but man, I was wrong

I thought for sure I loved you
But I loved the idea of you, its true
I will walk down the driveway and never turn back
leaving my thoughts of you at the door
Because i'm not that little girl anymore

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

A mirror is a perception
A trick of the mind
Try looking in a mirror and saying "I'm ugly"
And surely enough that is what you will see
Tainted looks and lost expression
My nose is too big
I have imperfections, including each and every freckle
I am bossed around by worldly views
Through the eyes of fashion magazines and top model
My thoughts pulse and with each pulse my list of imperfections lengthens
I've gained too much weight
I didn't need that sandwich
I need a hair cut
And a possible nose job
I turn away from the mirror
I look at my hands
I feel my waist
I feel skinny
I feel beautiful
So what is with these false perceptions?
These standards of beauty, only meant for a super human
**** the standards
**** the fliers, the model pictures
**** societies standards of me
Because I don't need them.
I've got mine.

Coffee and the smell of second hand smoke
A homeless man holding a sign for change
“Spare change?” he says
But changeless, we drive
Nothing; no thoughts invade our minds
Megan plays on the radio; we scream at the top of our lungs
And we feel alive
And our problems fly out the window, we have no sense of time
And the truck rolls over the potholes with ease
Soon it gets dark, light fades through the trees
The bittersweet loss of the sun to the stars
we watch people in the parking lot enter the bars
Toothless man picks weeds from cracks in the sidewalk
Nothing we do or say will make him talk
And then there’s us

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.

Spilled beverage
Slowly seeping into the carpet
Over washed dishes linger in the sink
Foam from the sink to the floor in waves of three
touches the bottom of my socks
Puffs of smoke
Absorb inside my lungs
I've been invaded by this drug
I'm weak, I'm worthless I'm out of control
And people will never look at me the same
My insides start to rot
My world is no longer rooted in reality
I enter a land of insecurities
A land where my body separates from my mind
I've lost every ounce of patience
My mind spins, I hit the floor
Trembling, perishing, disappearing
My chest cavity begs for a break
Barely breathing I reach for a hand
A soul bound with calmness and serenity
I attach my body, a mechanism of coping
Because I have lost all connections to myself
Heavy head, spinning trees, time has no more meaning
How many times have I paced around this building?
How long has my body been taken from my soul?
How long until people realize that there is something terribly wrong?
Like i've said there has been all along
A brain tumor
Or a person rotting to the core
A real, living person
Somebody who exists
And is decaying from the inside out
With no escape but waiting
I want to hide
I want to separate these two mixtures; these two sets of self
My body and my mind
They say the body and the mind work together
But for me, I am betrayed by myself

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?

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.

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.

Perhaps we will be allowed to stay
To sink our feet into the mud
And watch it sink between our toes
The frisk wind cold on our exposed bodies
The light from the moon dances on the ripples of the lake
We hold hands and jump feet first off of the dock
And we are submerged into the freedom
Soaking wet, sitting in the back seat of the car
We watch the moon become the sun
And at that moment, I realize I exist

A small yellow puff sits silently

In a never ending landscape of dandelions

Silence can speak wonders

But only to the ones who want to listen

As the dirt shifts beneath our bare feet

We step through the part of untrimmed lawn

Each step we take makes an imprint on the world

The grass flattened beneath us


In this open field of possibilities

I can only keep my eyes on this single yellow puff

At night it closes its eyes to the world

At dawn it opens to the rays of the sun

Brilliant, yellow, vibrant

Yet only a simple ****

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.

He only wore his glasses at night, before bed
I found him sleeping on the cot, in the quietness of the basement
In a room with a clay colored armoire
That I would hide in when we played house.
After everyone was asleep,
I would take an adventure down the stairs
To his new hiding place.
Creeping, tip toeing, watching every step
Dodging lego pieces and plastic food for my kitchen
His glasses were on the night stand
He was sound asleep
But I didn't care
I wanted to see him
I wanted him to tell me everything was okay
I wanted him to explain the mystery of life to me
In his ever so intelligent manner.
I was a stone, cold and frozen
Unable to make my way back up the mountain of stairs
Afraid of an avalanche
The room was lined with white carpet, stained from ice pops and nail polish
Lingering near the armoire, I hoped I would find what I was looking for
The secret treasures that he was protecting in this room, in the darkness of the basement
Maybe it was full of gold from the king
Or perhaps it was filled with magic nobody knew
I could hear creaking from the armoire, almost waking him
But the only thing I could find were his suitcases, one third filled with clothes
one third filled with betrayal, guilt, fear
And now one third filled with my knowledge of his intentions
As he awakes, he is at a loss for his words
Fortunately, I never lost mine.

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.

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 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.

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?

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.

Yet again here I am standing, staring at my own two feet
As you disappear
And I slowly fade away
What is easiest for you is to always drive into the distance
leaving your problems at the doorway
leaving me to stand here in a puddle of my own insecurities
You say you want me to tell you how I feel
What we had was never just friendship
You cant erase the past no matter how hard you try
to create a clean slate
Underneath it all is the reminisce and resin of what used to be
What is reality can only be covered up so much
before the past rears its ugly head again
chains that will never be broken distance us
Yet keep us from removing each other out of our lives completely
I will forever be chained to my thoughts of you
You feel the same way too
Except with you, you don't always want to need me
You need me when your life and your thoughts are spinning out of control
And the only strand of security and stability you had in your life was me
I was your backbone for so long until you outgrew me
You no longer needed me to stand tall
But when life decides to throw a hard ball
You decide you need me back again
But i'm not just a backbone anymore
Why did you call me so many times just needing to hear my voice?
Only to make yourself realize
that even though your life is falling into the quicksand
here i am.
My confidence is lagging
Here I am standing starring at my own two feet
Yet again
The longer I stare
the more foreign they seem
They no longer feel attached to my body
Are they truly part of me
Or will they one day simply stop holding me up
Will they let me fall, head first into this Earth, no turning back?
Will they simply slip from underneath me
letting me fall
unnoticed and weak.
Betrayed by my own two feet.

Betrayed by your docile nature
I will push you so far away it will seem as if I am the one disappearing
A dark tunnel arbitrarily chosen by a recognized force
Hitch a ride on a dark blue truck; fading into the distance
Time is inevitable but it flies, making the wheels more like wings
An hour glass figure stands at the end of the road
the closer we get, the less dark the tunnel seems
and soon the tunnel's darkness becomes the light of the world
As I approach the figure it fades into the scenery
Heart racing, I run to catch it
I pass through the field and he hides inside the woods, behind the dandelions
I follow him into an old apartment and he blends into the tearing wallpaper
I disappear into the wall, and reappear
chasing the big blue truck up an abandoned street
I miss it, as it fades into the distance
I realize I have lost track of the figure
And I am left with only myself as the world turns back into darkness.

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.

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.

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.

He walks out of the cab
Hands in his pockets and he looks at me
Something inside him causes a scream
His red eyes beam in my direction
I stand still; silent
I imaging the crack throbbing though his veins
He looks at the ground
He looks at his wife without making a sound

His 11-year-old son sits quietly on the stairwell
The man walks right by him, without even a glance
The monster inside him begins to give way
He wishes he were sober
He remembers leaving his son stranded in the driveway
He decides his life will soon be over

There she sits, standing and looking into my eyes
Her little brother close behind
Thoughts exploding through her mind
She wishes he were sober
She can't run from her thoughts
Her spirit starts to rot
And anger takes its place
She knows his time is ticking

Holding back tears
It's time to say goodbye
It’s time to let go
I let out a sigh
And I realize the fight is over
He will never be sober

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.

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.

Three insecure bodies fight each other for the security of only one thing.
One body.
One enjoyment.
I **** it all up. I never know what I want.
******* sleep forever.
******* wound opened and fresh for the world to puncture yet again.
The face of an hour glass.
The forceful push of his body as im slammed against the bedpost.
The drunken slurs, the silent words.
Unexciting, weak, unbearable.
Afterwards my body aches.
I survey the space.
What have I done?
Nothing but pure proof of his intentions.
Nothing but going back to where I started from.
Nothing but sitting on a pile of who knows what, in who knows where, with nothing to do but nothing.
I’m on my own,
ive come undone.
Its too late to try and bring me back to earths surface.
Im already destroyed on the inside.
He can’t say sorry
He’s already done enough.
But I tell him its okay;
three men in a room
one unnoticed me
one soul seeping its way through the mattress

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