"Oh, you girls look so young!"

Yeah, lady?

Well you look old.

60's?
No?
Is that offensive?

Then maybe you should keep your opinions to yourself.

I want to be mean.
To say all the terrible things
My mind keeps developing.
I want to tell all your friends
That you wet the bed one night
And unfortunately me as well.
I want to alert your employer
Of your medical issues that
Could impair your work.
I want to tell you I hope it
Hurts when they take out
Your wisdom teeth.
I want you to be bored out
Of your mind when you’re
On whatever ship they put
You on for months at a time.
I want you drink too much
And puke out your guts,
Kind of like I have this
Month from the stress.
I want to tell you nothing
You write makes any sense
Because you're trying too hard.
I want you to be isolated,
Worn, and miserable.

I have a secret, you see
And it is all about me
Though not like it’s very hidden.
I’m an imp, if you wish it,
I do tend to fidget
But I do so rather quietly.
Silent footsteps behind you,
Now sneaking isn’t meant to
Scare when my approach comes nearer.
I might give you a *****
And you’ll jump like a kook,
But try not to be so surprised.
There will be a next time
Do not make it a crime
When I appear out of nowhere.

It’s the ideas that I plant
Inside heads when I can’t
Act on such good tricks to be played.
Tie his laces to chairs
Not a classmate will care,
And Teacher blames only the boy.
This, but one example,
Of things that I’m ample
To come up with everyday.
Now if you’re real careful
And seem quite delightful,
I’ll just have to let you be,
Although Tricksy Grandma did name me.

Static. All I hear is static.
And the mumbles of your game.
Always playing that stupid game
As if you couldn't function without it.

I don't want to hear about it.
It doesn't interest me in the least.
(Mostly because I have no idea what you're saying)

I wouldn't have a problem with it,
Except for the fact that you only half listen.
You only have respond too.
Saying 'Yeah's and 'Okay's as if it can apply to everything.

I can only try so much until eventually
All you hear is static.
Static and the sounds of football.

I am on the edge.
And I’m terrified.

Decisions made by others
Are slowly not happening
While I live my life on pause
For the answers.

Should I be relieved when
The answers come to me?
Because whether yay or nay,
The possible results still scare me.

I know I can’t be care-free
Anymore. Is that what one
Loses when they grow up?
The certainty that everything
Will work out?

My fingernails are jagged
Now from the endless nervous
Nibbling I catch myself doing.
Terrible habit, I know.

If I could just fast-forward
Life to the moment where
Everything is settled, all the
Knowledge necessary is known,
Maybe then I could begin
To relax. But as far as I know,
Such technology hasn’t been
Invented yet, so I’ll have to
Continue at this dreadfully
Slow pace and see how life
Turns out.

Maybe if I sway in my
Seat a little I’ll be
Able to stay awake.
A sip of cold water from
The bottle conveniently placed
On my right could jolt me
Back for a few seconds.
Perhaps if I think of all
The things I must do today…
No, I should listen.
Listen to him explain something
I’ve already read from the
Lecture twenty minutes ago.
Could the clock tick away
Any slower?
Okay, thirty more minutes and
It’s all over. I think I can make it.
Fidgeting is doing nothing to stay aware,
Water just makes me have to go.
A little nap won’t hurt,
Right?

Just another day in this place.

I walk back and forth in the winter cold,
Looking at the gum and cigarette littered ground.

Not yet used salt crystals climb
Into the small cracks of my shoes.
I glance down only to find out they’ve
Marked my soles with their white dust.

Stomping and shuffling on the carpet
Can only get out so much.

As I march down the same path
I do everyday, see the people I always see,
I sigh inwardly at the thought of doing all
This again tomorrow.

I see you there,
Walking all over the world like you own the place.
Pushing nerds into each other,
Then laughing your *** off.

Disrespect is all you seem to give.
And yet everything is what you seem to take.

Spiting, hitting, cursing,
The only things in your repertoire.
The only things you understand.

Then the real world comes
To slap you in the face,
And there I am, slapping with them.

With yesterday's makeup and
Today's smile on, I'm starting
To see what tomorrow will bring.

Racing past tawny grasses

The breath of the enemy
Forming mist on my neck

Snapping ivory jaws at my heels

Breathing, struggling,
Leaping off the ground

Finish just ahead,
Enemy just behind

My adversary, surges
Myself, slacken

Overrun, overtaken, stopped

The enemy finishes on top,
Sinking the claws of defeat
Into my conquered flesh.

I am far from the sweet
Words I used to sing to you.
My adoration lost like the
Unfulfilled promises.
Sorry has come to mean
Nothing to me, just an
Empty phrase you speak
Too often. For you to fall
So simply out of love
Says you never meant
The praise you once weaved.
You have become my
Greatest disappointment.
Now if I could only say
Goodbye.

The bright yellow-green leaves
Flutter like butterflies struggling
To to hang on to the weak branches
As the fierce wind surges through
The diminutive tree.

Rain weeps loudly from
The silver gray clouds that
Blanket the sky completely,
Snuffing out any chance of sunlight.

The golds, auburns, and bright reds
Litter the ground, making a
Colorful, abstract mosaic.

Too soon, I think. Too quick
The weather has changed from
Summer to fall. Winter's voice
Is whispering to the trees, a
Warning it gives. I am coming.

Sometimes I just want to be reckless like folks my age tend to be.
Go out to bars, have too much to drink, find a friendly stranger to end the night with.
Will it help fill that empty space inside me?
No.
I think it would make the missing piece grow out of control.
I don’t want to be consumed by this.
This nothing.
Advice says I should be the one to make myself whole, but I’ve doubted that from the start.
Why does everyone think I’m such a strong person?
I don’t feel like it, not now.
It was easy to be strong when things were fine; I thought I could handle anything.
It seems I was wrong.
But I’m trying.
Really I am.
Yet my thoughts are inked with a poison.
Hate is far too controlling so I have caved to its powers.
I want to crush something.
Use my fists and expel all this aggression out on something that doesn't deserve it.
That’s probably not fair, but I've had enough of all this.
I've had enough of him.

The tale begins with a mother
And daughter quietly conversing
About this topic and that.

A peculiar interruption stops
The pair’s flow of words.

“Look Mom, I’m a mermaid!”
My eldest sister announced while
Shaking her rotund rear in proximity
To my mother’s face.

She immediately scampers off
To the kitchen while we look at
Each other with astonishment,
Neither knowing what just took place.

Laugher, of course, ensues.

The self-proclaimed mermaid wanders
Back to the giggling pair. I mention
Her new status and a look of
Puzzlement appears on her face.

She professes ignorance, denying
Such a thing ever happened. There
Was no convincing her of the truth.

Even now, she believes we made
Up the whole tale. But I know
She cannot renounce her actions that
Day. For she will always be thought
Of as a mermaid to me.

I didn't want to bite my nails
It was an impulse.
An itch in my brain,
A tick in my fingers.

The thup thup th--
Like a rabbit with a carrot,
I nibbled and gnawed
'Til there was little left.

The raw skin stung
From the leftover saliva.
Turned pink, I know I'd regret it.

Tried to shape the jagged edges,
Biting more off.
Less and less nail,
More and more exposed flesh.

The discomfort made me stop.
I tried to shake off the pain,
I regret biting my nails.

Her cheeks lifted and the corners
Of her mouth turned up ever so
Slightly into an all knowing smile.
Oh yes, those lips knew the
Whispered truths of her peers.
Only fools let go of treasures and
What a lost treasure it was.

Disgusting is a nice way
of describing this room.

Walking down the narrow pathway
I was surprised to see
but one toilet. No stall,
simply a single toilet huddled
into a corner, scared
to be there too.

Putrid yellow tiling
crept up the walls
like unified mold. A gloss
covered it, slime perhaps?

I washed my hands
quickly in the rusted
little sink that seemed
to grow out of the
wall and headed out
of there, happy to never
go back again.

I know it's a bit belated, for I've
Grown much too old, but I
Still have that little secret
Like dear Mrs. Darling had.

It's there, in the corner
Of these lips, I've glimpsed,
Waiting for that One to claim it.  

But I haven't had my
Adventure yet.
The wind has never played
Through my hair nor the
Clouds danced between my
Toes.

Perhaps He got the wrong house.
Maybe He found someone
Else to forget with.

I've no choice but to continue
Growing older. Through His youthfulness
Though, I've learned "To live would
Be an awfully big adventure," and so
I carry on flourishing and developing
Into a person that boy could never be.

I admit it, I
have an addiction.

Those red, twisted
vines glisten inside
their clear packaging.

They call my name,
beg me to consume.

My taste buds yearn
to touch those strawberry
ridges. My teeth can't
wait to bite the faux fruit.

One after another, they
disappear into the seemingly
endless chasm that
is my stomach, until
nothing is left except
the empty shell of a wrapper.

You stared at me from across
The room and I met those
Petoskey stone eyes. You
Couldn't help that bit of drool
dripping from your open mouth.
I widened my eyes and scrunched
Up my face, but that just gave
you a goofy grin. The lady holding
You up turned to see what was
Making you smile so much. Babbling,
Like always, you sat back down to
Figure out what mischief to get yourself
Into next.

I get it now! I think..

My body is just full of
Tricksters that seep in
Through the tiny cracks
Of my thoughts.

They make my blood
Race. Forcing my heart
To beat vigorously and
My mind to run continuous
Circles.

The little imps tear a
Nest for themselves
Inside my organs and
Wriggle around until
They’re comfortable.

Now that I know
They’re there, waiting,
Growing, how do I
Get them out?

Here I am, the
King of the Savannah,
The mightiest of the mighty,
...why do I feel so small?

Creatures cower at my
Magnificent and loud roar,
...why does it sound like
A kitten mewing to me?

My mane is voluminous and
Shines like silk in the afternoon sun,
...why do I feel like I'm balding?

My teeth gleam like
Porcelain when I flash
Someone a dazzling smile.
...why do they feel rotten?

Who am I really, what
They see, or what I feel?

Words we don't understand
Singing. Always singing
Higher than humans
Higher than the clouds above
Enticing all within earshot.

Some wonder how
Some wonder why
But only Vitas himself knows.

Dance Vitas, dance.
With your platforms
And your sparkle suits.

Ending on a note,
Soprano of course
He grins at the crowd
His ego as lofty as his voice.

The teacher drones on
about this subject and that
while my eyes, once
again drift towards the carpet.

Waves of beige and
dark colors in a seemingly random
pattern come to life.

Twisting, turning, flowing
in every direction like a
river of color spilling
all over the floor.

I'm mesmerized by this
show until suddenly I'm
called on and have to go
back to the real world,
leaving behind my entertainment
for the class.

Since you cannot be here in
My waking state, in my dreams
You do appear.

Perhaps you’re slightly taller
Than I recall. Yet my hand still
Fits perfectly within yours.

But one thing is never
Right. The most important
Thing. Our kiss. Not just
Yours or mine, but ours.

Too much or too little
Of something it always
Happens to be. Never
Good enough.

So I must wait until
We meet again to
Share the perfection
That is our
Kiss.

We're in a house,
Apparently ours, and
I'm smashing your things
You've never seen,
You're smashing my things
I've never seen.

A crack is made by your
Closed fist on a tank containing
Unidentified carnivores of the sea.

The tank very nearly emptied it's
Contents, but the scene changed.
A bear now terrorized the house.
Furniture stood in the way between
It and the upstairs where you'd
Find us hiding.

Someone fell through the fragile wooden
Floor, not sure if they made it.

Ripping the screen from the window,
We made it out, but the bear was still inside.

I was being pursued. By the bear?
Unclear. I knew it was different though,
For I was soaked and outside, begging
admittance into a stranger's house.

New dry clothes were found
In the bathroom. I found it
Strangely difficult to change.

I had to get out. He was in the house
Already. How does he always find me?

A station wagon with a man and son
was my getaway car. But I just couldn't
Get away. Somehow they knew I didn't
Belong there. We were being tracked.

Then ****. The car, the man, the boy,
All gone. What's left was me on the
Road with the pursuer fast approaching.

You would think with the loss of my first
Love that I would be flowing with pain-ridden
Words, but mostly I’m just empty.

I wish I could say empty only in the
Metaphorical sense, I do. Yet the anger
And anxiety swell up inside me and all
My hard work spills out into that lovely
Porcelain throne of mine.

I gave pieces of me away freely and now
That they’ve been tossed back, they don’t
Fit properly in place. I’ve tried switching
Things around, but the pieces are useless now.
Misshapen fragments of what they used to be.

There’s this fear creeping around that I’m
Just bitter now, but when I flip through
My thoughts, it’s just bitterness for him.
That boy, and a boy it seems he shall
Forever remain, deserves nothing but
My hostile words. Though words are
worthless to those who cannot hear.

I’ve spoken my heated words to the
One I once loved and am not satisfied.
I’m afraid I can’t do this on my own.

I am plain and small,
So how could you love me?

You're distinct and petite,
Why wouldn't I love you?

My cheeks are blotched and crimson,
So how could you love me?

Your cheeks are rosy and glowing,
Why wouldn't I love you?

I am penniless and have nothing,
So how could you love me?

Riches and objects are meaningless,
Why wouldn't I love you?

She is lovely and accomplished,
So how could you love me?

She is gaudy and fake,
Why wouldn't I love you?

I am nothing and you are everything,
So how could you love me?

I'm nothing and you're everything,
That is why I love you.

It’s not about having fun,
I’m not sure it ever was.

Trying to **** in air
With every other labored step
Is not effortless.

Negative thoughts creep
Through my head, slowing
My pace even more.

Is this the fourth time
I’ve held down my breakfast, or
The fifth?

I hear the cheers and support of
The crowd!...for other runners.
I get the blank stares and an occasional
Polite clap or two.

If only my **** pride
Would let me just stop and
Walk away without a second thought.

But, I started this,
The least I can do is finish.

Maybe next time.

The time has come
For this friendship to end.
It has had its ups,
But definitely had its downs.

You've made it hard to trust,
Made it hard to believe.

You're just a spider
And we got trapped.
Trapped in the web of lies
You've been weaving for seven years.

Sorting out fact or fiction,
It's just too many unwanted hassles.

Don't invite us to your pity party.
We won't come anyways.
But don't worry, you'll have plenty of guests.
The clueless flock to sadness
Like seagulls to fresh discarded food.

We just hope you've learned.
Rules are not meant to be broken,
Trust can only go so far,
And we are not a dime a dozen.
So good luck on the replacements.

He asked me if I still missed him
And the word no slipped between
My lips.

And there it was. The key finally
Clicked open the shackles of my past.
The great weight unchained from
My mind.

A smile lingered upon the realization
Of my freedom. Unbound now is
My heart.

You reek.
No really, you do.
I know you can hardly
Tell since your habit has
Dulled your sense of smell,
But trust me on this one.

I sit on the bus everyday
Hoping the one who decides
To sit in front of me isn't
One of you people.

The scent that exudes from
Your body and clothes hits
My nose and stomach
Once the bus starts to move.

There's no escape from it
And I know I'll get off after
You. I try to breathe through
My gloves, but that doesn't
Give me much air.

I see you reach up, pull
The yellow cord, and ding!
Sweet relief is on it's way!

You slowly make your
Way off the bus and I'm
Finally able to take a deep
Breath of, well, fresher air.

It’s pretty chilly under these sheets
Without you.

I’m reduced to using the fake heat of an electric blanket, You know that?

Not quite the same.

Though I must admit, I do have more
Room on my little twin mattress, but
I’d much rather have less space and
You any day.

If I lie down in
the frozen white,
will you be there
to conjure me awake
before i succumb
to the numbing peace
that entombs me

Or will I continue
to lie there,
slipping deep into
the world while
the stiffness in my
limbs steadily increases

As my thoughts wander
in and out of reality,
a warm hand caresses my
skin, lifts me up and
takes me out of the grave
I made for myself into
a haven that melts the cold
from my bones and heart

I knew you would save me.

What does a weak
Roar do to the herd?

Nothing.

It does not scatter
Or scare.

It merely floats on
The air like a whisper
That no body's sure
If it was real or
Just in their imagination.

No amount of noise seems
To make a difference.

The Lion is still alone.

No longer in the pride
It grew up in, for reasons
Of seeming necessity.

The Lion weeps for its
Loss, knowing the tears
Won't change a thing.

Should the Lion search for
A new pride to join?

Should it fight for the old?

Or should the feline lay down
It's head and give up completely?

Time is the only one able
To decide the Lion's fate.

Until time catches up, a feeble
roar is all that can be heard.

I sometimes wonder where
The words come from. It must be
A fine cloth woven with truths,
With hopes, and maybe a little
Exaggeration. But that’s what
Makes it perfect. That’s what
Holds it all together. Yet things
Creep in, lies taint the cloth,
Unraveling the threads that bind it.
It becomes nothing more than a
Pile of words thrown together
Hoping to fool the unsuspecting
Reader into thinking it’s something.
I’d much rather weave than pick
Up the broken pieces.

Some things just
have a way of hurting
all over again.

My heart turns into
A rock in my chest,
Weighing me down,
Every pump a struggle.

I hope I'm just being
Paranoid. I wouldn't be
Able to take it if I'm not.

Okay, move on, I tell myself.

The past ***** sometimes.

I hate that moment when
Reality hits me. A cold slap
In the face.

Our goodbyes were said and
Hugs given, but now, now is
When I realize.

I cannot see you tomorrow
Or the next day. I cannot greet
You as you walk through my
Front door with a kiss and a smile.

We must wait. Always wait
For the next break to come.
And when it arrives, briefly
Does it stay.

It seems I must remind
Myself that time does indeed
Move, however slowly at
Times, and soon back in my
Embrace you will be.

I am a spider weaving my life
Onto my web, but I’ve gone
Too far again.
Someone is tangled up in my
Gossamer strings and I haven’t
The heart to let him out easy.
To let him go would be leaving
Myself lonely once more and
What’s the point in lacing if
No one gets caught.
Mother always said not to play
With your food, but no one
Ever said the food
Would play back so well.
So I continue with no
Intentions nor reassurances
And hope the bug learns how
To fly out on its own.

I'm afraid of what
My dreams may bring
So I stay awake just
A bit longer.

I await the inevitable
Restlessness after my
Subconscious conjurings.

In the morning, remembering
Everything I felt,
Everything I did,
I have to choose whether to
Be dragged down
Or lifted up.

Why am I never lifted up...

I did not imagine
Those fierce dark eyes
Gazing upon me.

Though darkness clouded
My eyes and perhaps mind.

The glow of the full moon
Shone within those ever
watchful unblinking disks.

Have I fallen prey to a
Beast of the night?
Or is my mind just
Thinking the worst?

As I come closer to them
And they come closer to I,
Neither faltered in the slow
But constant pace forward.

Forward and forward we went
until the body to which
The eyes belonged to could be seen.

"I have seen you before." Said I.

No reply.

"Your hair, it flows in waves
Like mine. And your dress,
'Tis the same hue as mine."

Again, no reply.

I reached out my hand to
Perhaps touch this mute creature
But in the place of flesh and cloth,
All that was felt beneath my fingers
was a cold, flat barrier.

It felt the same thing, for it's fingers
Were against the barrier alike to mine.

We began pounding on the blockade
So that we could finally reach each other
Until it finally broke into small shards
at my feet.

I looked up but could find no
Sign of those eyes.

Looking at the broken pieces
At my feet, I found them,
Staring back up at me.
But this time was different.
The once two eyes that gazed on me
Was now a hundred.

Frightened, I retreated back to which I came
And sat on the cold wooden floor.

Sleep never overcame me
And soon dawn approached.

It was then I discovered,
The origin of the eyes.

I'm an insecure little girl,
haven't you discovered
that yet?

Every time the subject
at hand is discussed,
my stomach turns onto
itself, as if it dislikes
talking about it as much
as my heart and mind.

My silence means
I'm breaking inside,
little by little until
one day, I'm nothing
but pieces waiting
to be put back together.

If ever you care to
pick up my fragments,
burn that bridge first. Until
then, I'll be here
wanting to grow up.

I feel like making a scene, like
The time we yelled at each other
In the store (most likely embarrassing
Mom), but I lack the energy to do so.

I’m just angry and I keep thinking
Of all the things that’ve made
Me angry in the past. Thinking
Of all the reactions I wish I
Had done instead of the lame
Ones I did.

Unlikely scenarios are playing
In my head. I prepare heated lines
That will probably never be spoken,
But I think them, just the same.

I’m trying to get over this, it’s
Just hard sometimes, you know?
Festering anger and unspoken words
Have always had a strong grip on my
Mind. Someday they’ll leave me alone,
Right?

How dare you tease
Me, Weather. A week of
Sun and warmth so early
Only to be snatched away
And replaced with gloom
And ice.

The sun may be shining, but
No, you can’t trick me. I know
The bitter wind that swirls with
The rays.

I’d make a deal with you
If I thought it would do any
Good, but you refuse to be
Reasonable.

You’ve held on to winter
For far too long, I think.
Aren’t you tired of it? A little
Spring would be a nice change,
Don’t you think?

No, you like seeing people
Shovel off their cars and fall
On the thick ice you produce.

I’m sorry Weather, but I
Can’t be friends with you
Anymore until you learn to
Play nice.

I’ll talk to you when you
Decide it’s finally time for
Spring.

The veins in my
hand stand out like
dirt on freshly fallen snow

As I look upon my hand, it
shakes uncontrollably
changing from a little
to a lot until
finally set it down
only to pick it back
up a moment later

I wish I could feel the
blood coursing through
those purple lines, but
I cannot.

Will not too...unless
I make a small cut
nothing significant, just
enough to feel the
flow and see it for myself

Oh to feel the thumping of
my heart in my hands!

I know I'm alive
now and not just
an empty shell

Thank you throbbing
Thank you pain

It doesn't last forever
clotting takes care and
once again, I feel nothing.

Many a nights I
Find myself trying
To catch sleep through
A steady stream of tears,

But sleep eludes me.

The increased heart beats
Pound my chest too loudly.
My breathing is too uneven.

My mind wanders back to
The reason for the tears and
It starts all over again.

If, as you say, I’m not allowed
To cry, then give me reason not to.

Perhaps that is too much to
Ask for. Perhaps not.

As my light dims, I finish.
Finish with my thoughts,
Finish with my tears. But
Not, alas, for the search for sleep.

I tend to be overlooked, I think.
Mostly 'cause of what they assume.
That innocence comes with this
Young looking face.

They've no idea what secrets lie
Behind these lips and eyes.

If walls had mouths, mine would
Gasp, but hush, they mustn't tell.

I'll play my role of the sweet young
Thing, 'til someone dares look
Behind the mask.

I had a dream about you
Last night. I hate those now.
They tend to bring back too
Many things.
This one seemed different though.
We were going on a trip
To one of my favorite places,
But we were as we are now
In our emotions.
I went to reach for your hand
To hold in the car, but thought
Better of it, knowing those days
Are over.
Melancholy on both our faces,
We lose each other in an unfamiliar
Place and know there's no point in
searching.

A shadow snatched me in a dream
The thought is eerier than it seems
I knew it crouched in wait for me
And yet I ventured out to see
I thought I might be safe this time
My luck ran out, it made the climb
From down the stairs where it does dwell
It’s solid form caused my lungs to swell
Dark hands reached out and gripped my own
A chilling hold down to my bones
When my mind was just about to break
My body ******, I was awake.

For someone to truly change
One must believe there are
Things worth changing.
But if the opinion of oneself
Is so highly adored, against
all others, then I'm afraid
Change is the least possible
Of things to accomplish.
They will be doomed to a
Stagnant life, fully unaware
of what destruction they
Leave in their wake.