In the gleam
of the sun's rays
reflecting against
the lake's surface,
I see the sparkle
of your light blue eyes.

In the setting
of the sun,
too bright to
look at for too long,
I see your golden hair
through stolen glances.

In the curvature
of the moon--
a bright, white crescent tonight--
I see your radiant smile
on my walk back home.

In the writing world,
they say it's no good
to only see one muse,
but since I met you,
my vision's never been clearer.

I'm walking out of
the Nordstrom Rack store,
sky as dark as the
asphalt of the parking lot
under my sneakers. I'm
not wearing a jacket even though
the Weather App said it feels like
twelve degrees Fahrenheit outside.

But I'm not that cold--
my hands are still warm
from the laborious inventory work
I wound up excelling at.

I can't say I'm surprised, though.
I was born and raised
on hard work; knew it
before I knew my ABCs.

My thumbs are a deep pink,
angered from picking up
shoe after shoe after shoe
for nearly five hours. Deep
grooves and torn skin
accent the pink hue.

As I stare at my
worn-out fingers,
I can't help but wonder
if this is what I'll
end up doing with my life...

Am I meant to
follow the career path
laid down for me
by my family? Will I one day
inherit my father's tough,
callused hands; or his father's
overworked knees--
all from pushing my body
to its limits just to
barely make it by?

A, B, C, D--
will I eventually fulfill
A Blue Collar Destiny?

The falling part is easy.

Wind blowing through your hair;
strands flying in and out of your mouth,
knots forming too--
but that doesn't matter in this moment.

You're in a completely different dimension:
liberated and empowered,
your love can conquer all,
the sky is the limit!

(how ironic that you think this,
when in actuality you are
rapidly moving farther and farther
from the limitless sky.)

But you've got to hit the ground eventually.

You land with a single THUD--
pain coursing through your back,
the bloodstream; your whole body is throbbing
dun dun, dun dun, dun dun

Your pupils are fully dilated,
mouth frozen in a perfect "o"
trying to figure out how on earth
you plan on recovering from this fall.

The falling part is easy,
but you've got to hit the ground eventually.
The real test of character
is picking yourself up afterwards.

Although a rain cloud
Now lies above my
Head

I know for a fact
A new angel's been
Bred

It was my first nighttime beach trip.

Monday night, ten-thirty PM:
rather than reading
in my pajamas,
I was walking
along the shore.

The cool, damp sand
beneath my bare feet
sharply contrasted the
unbearable heat of
the same ground
just hours earlier.

A deep black
consumed the beach--
except for the
stars' shimmering light.

They seemed to cover
every square inch
of the dark sky--
like a string of
little white lights
hanging on the limbs
of a Christmas tree.

It was magnificent--
a work of art,
something out of a museum--
I'd never seen
anything like it.

My brother and our friend
were watching the tide
gently roll in;
their attention was focused
downward, but mine
was always on the stars--

I saw more than stars;
I saw the eyes of
my four angels
shining down on me,
their twinkle
letting me know
they've been watching over me
all along.

The wind started
to pick up steadily,
I didn't have a jacket,
but I was warm.

I was home.

The snow trusts the grass
To catch it every single time
It falls

The grass loves the snow
So much that it never fails
To hold on

You're the ink I bleed--
pencil hitting paper,
the catharsis that I need;
you're in my erasings, all my cross-outs
constantly showing me
new perspectives and alternate routes;
you're the break

between each stanza;
every symbol I decide to make;
you're the rare poems I write in rhyme
(partly because of how
musical you are from time to time);
you're the answer to my writer's block,
making up for all those minutes
spent staring at the clock.

Most obviously, you're the reason I write today--
you're every word I've ever written
and every word I'm about to say.

Struck by your beauty,
I try to paint you with words.
I'm a slave to you.

The routine started, and
the world around me stopped.

Intricate arm and legwork
carefully layered to create a
smooth rhythm. She moved
in time with the music,
she was the music;
her body a vital instrument
for this Dream Girls song.

She was a vision--
captivating,
liberating,
invigorating--

my head spun
with every pirouette;
heart leapt
with her graceful jumps.

A great love radiated
from her entire being.
I saw it in her eyes as she danced.

I felt it in my heart as she danced.

We were just two planets
that happened to fall into the same orbit.
God, it sounds so cliché when I say it like that,
but that's what we were--

I was a small and cocky freshman
much like Pluto; all high and mighty
with its long-lasting title of "planet"
when really it's just a dwarf

You were two years older:
seasoned, hardened, experienced;
no one needed a telescope for you
because your presence was that large

We were never supposed to be friends.
But I entered your atmosphere
while your entered mine,
and nothing was the same

But as quickly as we collided,
our orbits changed,
causing us to hurtle through space
in completely different directions

You breathed life in me
from the first day we met.
You gave me
a part of yourself
that I will
always hold
inside of me,
******* in a knot
so I will never lose it.

I continue to grow,
each breath of yours
adding strength to me,
leaving behind
a pleasant, warm feeling.

And everytime
I feel as though
I am about to burst,
you always know
just how to let the air out.

I am
the real world's
writing utensil.

From checks,
envelopes,
to contracts,
you'll find me,
not a pencil.

The only problem
with being
the real world's
writing utensil
is that I can never
erase my mistakes.

From scribbling out
to whiting out,
they never
truly disappear.

You are beautiful in
every
single
sense
Of the word.

I never expected it to happen to me.
I guess nobody does really;
everything seems fine one day, but the next--
Nothing.

Here I am,
staring out my window every night
with this ridiculous sense of false hope
just waiting for the words to come.

I wait and wait,
and wait and wait,
the hope diminishing by the day--
Oh god, am I out of poetic language?

No, they've got to be there.
Somewhere. So I go back to waiting.
But they never came...
*You never came...

We never wanted
to let you go,
but we knew it was
inevitable.

We tightened our grip
around your smooth, white ribbon;
a futile attempt to
keep you with us
just a few moments longer,
even though you
silently begged us
to let you go.

You were there
to brighten up all our milestones--
every birthday,
every graduation,
every wedding.

These thoughts
consumed our minds
as we slowly relented;
painfully and agonizingly
loosened our grip on
your long ribbon.

You left us
so gracefully, so gently--
our eyes never left you
as you defied gravity
while we remained
tethered to the ground.

The sun reflected
off your shiny blue roundness,
creating a small, quick
flash of light--
a wink or a smile,
your final goodbye,
a promise of reunion.

We'll think of you,
a lot at first,
and then from time to time;
wondering where you ended up
or if you found company
in the sky,
above the clouds.

But we'll know that
letting you go was
the right thing to do--
you're now liberated,
completely and utterly
free.

Gently clutching these
Pages, your heart touches mine.
You hold a place there.

It's easy going around
Seeing happy people
And thinking
"You lucky *******"

But the truth is

We're all just
Broken souls
Waiting to be put
Back together

I can see how much
you've changed.

My whole life
you've made your house
a home
and always
invited me inside, but

you're beaten down now,
worn out and overused.

You need help
from top to bottom,
chips and cracks
lining every part of you.

Your railing is wobbly,
swaying from side to side
until one of us
can steady you.

We can't help you anymore,
we don't know what to do.

We're leading you
into someone else's hands
so they can fix you,
so they can help you.

You need to make someone else's
house into a home.

Numb the pain, take it all away
I've been hurting long enough

No, pile it on and let me drown
I don't deserve numbness

You can do so much better
Why keep a friend like me?

Wait, come back, don't leave me
I'll go insane without you

Memories of you are fading fast
I think it's better off this way

Don't fade! Don't fade!
I don't want to forget!

My thoughts are messy contradictions
All tangled around you

I never knew I was
living as an
untied shoelace
my whole life until
Fate knotted us together

I hope he did a
good job because
I never want
to leave your side

To: You; From: Me
4/10/15, 6:37PM
Hi. It's been awhile,
just, uh, checking in...

To: You; From: Me
4/10/15, 6:41PM
I still think of you--of us, our friendship.
I'm sorry we drifted apart; I'm
sorry for being carried off by other waves
and leaving you ashore

To: You; From: Me
4/10/15, 6:57PM
Tear-stained pillows,
a layer of clothes covering the carpet...
I guess you can say I've redecorated
since the last time we hung out? Haha

To: You; From: Me
4/10/15, 7:09PM
How do you do it?
How can you possibly
reach inside my chest and
squeeze my ******* heart
so tight it nearly bursts
just by making eye contact??

To: You; From: Me
4/10/15, 7:11PM
*******!!!!!!!!

To: You; From: Me
4/10/15, 7:20PM
I miss you so much
I don't even know what to
do anymore

To: You; From: Me
4/10/15, 7:21PM
Please come back into my life
please be my friend again
please please please

To: You; From: Me
4/10/15, 7:30PM**
Hi.

A gentle whisper
rattles grass blades one by one.
Domino effect.

It must be nice
Being a pencil

It can erase
All its mistakes

Whereas I
Must live with mine

is driving fast on the highway
Sitting in the back seat

Not knowing where you're headed
Or when you'll get home

Face pressed against the window
A smile lurking on your lips

Watching light after twinkling light
Pass you by in an instant

is driving faster than the speed limit
Windows all the way down

Radio turned up as high as it will go
Music blasting through your speakers

Singing loudly and off-key
Not caring who happens to hear

Sunlight streaming through the car
Reflecting off your sunglasses

Barbecue-scented wind knotting up your hair,
Letting you know that summer's almost here

Everyone writes her off as a nobody,
but it's impossible not to feel her presence.

Eyes cast downward, always wearing a troubled look--
it's obvious she's got a lot on her mind.

Her negativity is a disease,
it infects everyone around her.

It's ironic that her name is Faith...
because she doesn't seem to have any.

The gentle falling
of leaves

Orange, yellow, and
red--my favorite color

As I watch them in fascination--
gravity slowly and carelessly
pulling them to the ground--
I feel you nearby.

The wind rattles the trees
sends my hair whipping wildly
behind me

It snatches a paper
from my hand

I bend to pick it up, and
under the wind's howls,
your voice--
that soft, lulling melody
finds its way in my ears.
I flinch in surprise because

It's been seven years
since I saw you last,
and yet
you still follow me
wherever I go.

*Thank you for never really leaving me

Everything is changing
Hustling, running to the future

I feel as if I am submerged in water
No sounds, no one around me
Frozen

Now I am in a crowded street
People pushing and shoving to eagerly reach their destination
While I remain
Frozen

Everyone around me is constantly moving
And I am standing still

It starts with a small trigger:
A word, an image, an object
That brings your thoughts back to
Them

It knocks the wind out of you
You don't want to remember
Yet at the same time you do

Then the memories invade your brain
Take over your very being
Render you immobile

Everything goes tight
Eyes squeeze shut
Fingers, a vice around the nearest table
Trying not to let this be your undoing

Finally the pain subsides
Passes over you like an ocean wave
Leaving you sapped of energy and full of relief

But the relief quickly turns to dread
Because you can't help but wonder
When this ****** cycle will start again

Homemade posters line the walls
of my basement—
white computer paper dominated by
once-vibrant crayon scribbles
and once-funny inside jokes
now faded and stupid
with the years of neglect.

The posters used to be
the only thing hanging
over my head. But
I’ve outgrown them;
torn each one down with
quick, decisive tugs
and replaced them…

Tell me everything
and I'll write your words
on my skin
every inch of my body
so that even though
they'll fade
they'll always be
a part of me

Like my heart
I won't see them
but I'll feel them
pressing against my chest
each beat a reminder
that you'll always be with me

Give me your wounded; I can heal their ills.
I spin miracles like tailors spin thread.
I cure bleeding, sneezing, quaking with chills—
believe it or not, I can show you the dead.
Very few can handle the magic I spawn—
I bend the rules as blacksmiths do metals.
My power is strange, running dusk to dawn;
it’s gained from people, pencils, even rose petals.
All it takes is a wave of the hand:
I swirl words on paper—an artist mixing paint.
Not witchcraft, yet some pieces are still banned;
each and every writer isn’t a saint.
Some claim our magic is fading away,
but really we’re thinking up more words to say.

I'm trying to get clean of you
But it's hard quitting cold turkey

Hands sh-sh-shaking
Pupils                   darting uncontrollably

Legs stomping. Zombielike. I pause
Every so often. To keep myself in check

Thoughtsracingamileaminute
Somehowtheyalwaysfindawaybackto--

N­o.
I can't take it anymore

I open my mouth,
No longer caring if I put your name between my lips

It rolls off my ******* single exhale
I savor the forbidden sweetness of each syllable

As quick as it entered my throat,
Your name's already vanished into thin air

With it goes my peace of mind,
The withdrawal setting back in

It's never fun needing someone
Way more than they need you

Who are you?
I don't know anymore

Like smoke
You slipped through my fingers
Leaving only your scent on my hands

You say you're my best friend
Yet you hurt me again and again
Burning me, scarring me
Leaving me to question everything

I don't want to throw it all away
But I'm losing hope
I've tried so hard to make it work

I may know your name
But the rest of you is fading away

I should be studying,
since I have my first formal final
in three days, but I
have too much on my mind right now.

It's probably due in part to
procrastination, but these
thoughts have been
swirling around my head for
awhile, impatiently waiting
to be flushed out.

I often look back at
old photos, old memories--
comparing my old self to
who I am now.

The obvious changes grab me first:
watching the multi-colored braces
disappear; followed shortly by
that stubborn baby fat; the
gradual transition from
softball bats to tennis rackets.

Only recently have I noticed
the evolution of a smile.
It's difficult to explain, really,
but the difference is definitely there.

The younger smiles are...less...
burdened, for lack of better words--
less weighed down. Now I'm
not saying that
smiles become less
radiant and genuine
as we get older,

I'm just trying to point out
that the innocence is gone--
it's as if our smiles
sport our scars too;
as if our lips are saying
"This is what the real world
has turned us into."

I'm sorry my clothes
smell like cigarettes
even though they're
newly washed;
I don't smoke, I promise--
I don't do my own laundry
when I'm at home

And I hate that
I am now familiar
with the disgusting,
skunky odor of ****
even though I've never
seen a blunt with my own eyes

But yet I still know
how it feels to be addicted--
not to a drug, to a person--
the effects are just the same.

It's like I need you to be
whole; a part of me is
missing when you're
not near--and God,
it hurts sometimes!

The anxious jitters
overcome me, eyes
cold and unnerving,
thoughts more
and more
convoluted
by the minute.

No, I've never smoked,
but that doesn't mean
I'm unaffected.

Secondhand smoke
has the power
to ****, too, you know...

As I lie awake at night
I unconsciously leave my bed
And enter the jungle that is
My mind

I'm there without a map
Struggling to navigate
Through the countless thickets
Of thoughts

Going deeper in the jungle
Going deeper in my mind
This is where the thoughts
Get scary

Suddenly I can move no further
I am trapped in a web of worries
And forced to stand there and wait
For the monster that spun the web
To consume me

All the kids
I teach tennis to
at work
have bright eyes.

Sparkling blues,
dazzling greens,
even brown eyes shine bright
on the kids at tennis camp.

There's their bright, wide eyes
soaking up the world around them--
and then there's
my dull green ones;

light ****** out
years back,
by the same world
these kids are trying to absorb.

They are so
pure
innocent
whole--

why am I
the teacher
in this situation?
I am nothing but

tarnished
corrupted
broke
and broken.

The sad part is
these kids can't even
teach me how to be
whole again because

you didn't know
you were whole
until the world finally
breaks you.

I wouldn't have thought

That my only kryptonite

Would end up as you

It's true that
I'm known for causing
people to cry
from peeling away
at my many layers,

but what people
don't realize
is that
it's not always easy
bouncing back from every
tear and rip and tampering
of my being--

careless cooks and
****** shoppers taking pieces of me
that won't ever
fully heal.

But I know that
one day
a good grocery shopper
will come along
and appreciate
all the layers of me
in order to create
something beautiful.

I want to taste
the beer lingering on your lips,
even though
I've never drunk alcohol before.

You drank a Corona.
My dad always told me
Budweiser was the best.

I don't need
beer or wine or *****
to get the
content and happy buzz
I get from you.

Just a glimpse;
a fleeting look
into your dark,
brooding eyes
is enough to leave me
drunk all day long.

I know that
one taste of you
will be enough to
black me out.

I'm gliding through life
When suddenly my path just
Happened to cross yours

We were drawn to each other
Some scientific properties
Pulling us closer and closer

Now it's like Elmer's glue
You're stuck on me
I'm stuck on you

And I'm not letting go
Till some greater power
Somehow forces us apart

Turn off my light
and turn on my side.
Silence engulfs me
and my room--

until a car zooms by,
outside my window,
its black tires gliding
over the asphalt road--
the start of my very own
nighttime symphony.

More and more cars
ride along my street.
Every once in awhile
a motorcycle vrooms on past;
I feel myself beginning to
transcend from consciousness
into the world of dreams.

Tires screech,
horns blare--
with this,
the loud, lively world outside
has successfully lulled me
to sleep.

There's layers
upon layers
of foundation
in my poems
that create
houses upon houses
for a girl who longs
to find home.

Each word
is a brick
that builds
and builds,
leaving onlookers
in awe
at the site
before them.

Each metaphor is
the cement
that holds
my words
together.

The door,
once shut,
is now open
for anyone wanting
to come inside.

And my emotions
are the roof
of these houses,
sitting atop
each and every poem
and making
each house a home
for different parts
of my soul.

You're just a **** maze

And I'm really struggling

To find my way out

She is rain
in the way
you feel her
all around you,
soaking you with
everything she is,
the feel of it
reaching deep
in your bone.

She is snow,
a collection of
unique snowflakes
coming at you
in a beautiful flurry.

She is the clouds--
when she is around,
it's impossible to
overlook her presence.

She is a hurricane,
her effect on people
widespread and unavoidable;
she is a tornado
in the way she pulls you in,
wrapping you tightly
as she does in her hugs;
she is a tsunami
because she loves
with everything she's got,
a tidal wave crashing down on you.

But mostly
she is a sunny day--
warming you,
shining down on you,
letting you know
everything will be okay.

I know you never wanted
to breed an addict,
it's just one of those
uncontrollable risks that
accompanies parenting.

Or was it controllable?

I remember, as far back as
ten years old, you cursing freely
while I was in the room;
never directed at me though,
thank God.

You told me once, when I was twelve,
a playful smile on your face as you
gripped the steering wheel at 10 and 2,
that you wouldn't be surprised if I
became just as foul-mouthed as you.

Well gee, I wouldn't even utter
the word "God" for a year after that conversation.

But then the teen years hit,
those dastardly years of
storm and stress...
and rebellion.

That's where my addiction began,
in the midst of middle school.
What started out as a rebellious experiment
has quickly spiraled into
an uncontrollable addiction.

Oh, Mother;
we share the same looks, same jokes,
hell, even the same gender--
now add another commonality to our list:
the mouth of a sailor.

Long, winding road;
a busy street,
cars of every color
drive close together
like a school of fish
navigating through the ocean.

Dotted white lines
quickly become solid,
preventing the cars from
switching lanes...

we were supposed to be
over one to the right.

Cursing, then flooring,
and finally U-turning,
you maneuver your car
back around to
get to our destination.

Talking, singing, laughing--
the frustration of
missing our turn
dissipates quickly with
each other's company.

It's always a pleasure
getting lost with you--

every missed turn
is a new adventure,
and every wrong turn
reminds me how right
it feels being next to you.

All I want in life

is to be someone's

Hero.

Sprinting--arms pumping, heart racing
Trying my best to destroy
A thought bubble of you

Slipping--dodging, avoiding my grasp
Each and every time
I go to pop the memory from mind

Multiplying--surrounding, trapping me
Thought bubbles overwhelming me
I promised myself I'd let you go

Finally I relent and allow myself
To drown in my memories of you
Just one more time