When I was younger
I looked at my parents hands
As they engulfed mine
And I wondered when I would
Be big enough to carry so much
Whether it be groceries or burdens
And now, as an adult, my hands
Are still so much smaller
I hope my hands can hold onto
What I love

Just remember that it's ok to feel out of place sometimes
Afterall, even Earth's orbit is naturally askew
yet it still turns and we are still here
and life goes on

When I talk to people
I've processed things halfway
In the moment
So that later-
in the conversation
or that night-
I realize exactly what
My opinion is or
What I'd truly like to say

It's one of the reasons I like writing poetry

I watched a bird dart through the undergrowth
Only to stop and feed its baby
Which was lying on the ground
A mere three feet away from me
Blending in with the gray pine cones
And it reminded me of all the things
We do not notice when we forget
To just be still

You are strong, dearest love
And you say you are better
That those wounds do not hurt
Any more
But I hear the way your voice quakes
When you say the word home

And you are brave, soul of my soul
When you bare your heart before men,
Those who have silenced it all these long
Years
Because your wild, beautiful thoughts
Tear you within until set free, voiced

And I cry, too, beloved heart
When you say that you love them
Those that caged and beat you
Nonetheless
Because through blood and fire
Family is still family

Chaos exists where peace collapses
Stagnant does not equal safe

I
    love the way
    flowers speak
           to us

                                 they
    they all           don't ask us
have their own    for much
  significance

But most of all, flowers
   Are never afraid of
    honesty and that's
    what makes them
    B E A U T I F U L

The funny thing about change is
Most people fear it but
It's always been a big part of my life
I've moved over eleven times
I'm always pushing to try new
Food, new sports, meet new people
So I get extremely uncomfortable
When I'm stuck in the same place too long

Her heart is a black hole
It soaks up the surrounding life
Always curious, ever wanting
More
More adventure, more to love about this
Crazy, vast universe that surrounds
On rare days you can glimpse the
Radiant, blinding star it once was
Yet still overwhelmingly, breathtakingly
Beautiful
As it takes all of these
Immense moments after
Exploding with passion and emotion and thoughts and words to be
Still
Be still and merely be
Before absorbing, compacting those memories
Into that deepest of meanings that she craves
Hoarding it within her heart
To begin with again someday

Do you ever get the feeling
That you are somewhere else
As you go through your day
You don't remember your name
And someone else must remind you
Who you are?

Do you ever get the feeling
That your skin is two feet thick
You're not experiencing life,
You're just a witness to it
As you pass through the walls
Invisible?

Do you ever get the feeling
Where your insides are jittering
A thousand miles an hour, jarring
Your soul and threatening to
Collapse and become a
black hole?

Do you ever get the feeling
That everything is so fleeting
That life is so short and everything
Has a certain pointlessness to it
And you feel lost and dull and
Want it to end?

Do you ever get the feeling
That although you are surrounded
There is no one who will
Take the time to understand,
Who will have the willingness
To open up and ask in a broken voice,

"Do you ever get the feeling?"

Beauty is fleeting
Time is more precious than gold
The heart is what lasts

When things got tough in college
I had a threat I'd always make
"I'm running away to Iceland"

I'd adore never ending summer days
Of road trips to seek out hot springs
And camping wherever my feet take me

Icelandic folklore is steeped in magic
It makes me want to dance on volcanoes
With the lava demons from hekla

But mostly I'd love to be a part of
A culture that isn't afraid of failure

I once thought of myself as a terrible
Oily, sharp-clawed beast who could do no
Right
A black- scaled dragon with a heart darker still
My father, the king, often told me I was
The queen shuddered in my presence
And so the scales grew and the fire built in my belly
But I rarely let it out
Or else the king’s men would banish me from the kingdom
And so I told myself that I was evil
And I wished that I could be a human too
So I took my claws to my scales and tried to scratch them off
I filed my fangs into a grin and tried to pass them as human
But it never worked, they always grow back
And I was covered in scars and thicker scales than before
I was so lonely in my cave
And every day the king hunted me
I scratched as the scales grew thicker
Covered in oily filth I could never wash away
But then the Lion came
And maybe change wasn’t all instantaneous
Sure the scratches were painful
As the lion went deeper into my heart
Than I ever could
As he ripped off my scales
And showed me that my heart is good
And washed away the mire I was trapped in
So that I can fly again
At times that old fire still burns
But not in rebellion or fear, no
To protect those who cannot protect themselves

Yes I am now free to become
That beautiful, vibrant person
With wide branches and a sturdy foundation
I can express myself
With gorgeous petals and soak in the sun
But often in creating deeper roots
I hit a rock
And suddenly I am back in that tiny planter
Crowded out and unable to find anywhere
To spread my leaves or the smallest patch
Of sunlight
And I have to remember that I am now
In a place that has no walls
I'm outside
And my roots are strong enough
That over time
They can break through rock
That I don't always have to
Tiptoe my way around those
That hold me back
That I can just
Be

Words. They won't stop
and I'm feeling nauseous because
the words won't  stop
and my brain will not let me be until I drain it of every drop of thought, squeezed from exhausted me and they are spilled upon the pages like a crime scene and
they will not stop
until all the wrongs become right and all the ink in my veins bleeds dry.
Words. They won't stop.
I feel as though they will crawl their way up my throat and scatter themselves carelessly upon the pages if I do not write them fast enough. They haunt me with their beauty and will consume me if I let them, swallow me within their inky depths and block out the sunlight. Words. They just won't stop.

Her soul is a tree growing ever strong and true
She digs deeper into life into love into faith into why  
Every day her roots push deeper with her eagerness
To know and to become

Her soul is a bold river birch tree, she is not afraid
To reveal her brokenness to the outside world
With each layer that peels off as she grows
More beautiful

Her soul is a blossoming cherry tree
Her sakura soul colors the surrounding world
With its wisdom and knowledge that it may
Soon be gone

Her soul is a graceful weeping willow
It is weighed down by a certain sadness and pain
Yet easily swayed by the playful breeze to dance again
In the sunlight

Her soul is an unchanging evergreen
Throughout everything she goes through
She stays strong and firm, she does not ever
Back down

The world outside her window is the same
Unbearably tame
Mile after mile
Tree after tree
It blurs with the sound of her heartbeat
It feels fake
Almost, as fake
As the perfect little house
And the perfect little yard
That her imperfect family resides in
That most people call home
She can't bring herself to it as she pulls off
Hurls herself through the woods
Along the thin dirt path
Up the grueling climb
To the top of the mountain
She finally pauses to breathe
As she exhales she grins
Effervescent and sighs
"Home"

It's funny how when we are young
We're taught to be honest
Told that the truth is the best
By adults who deal only in lies
Because honestly they've learned
To fear the truth
And what do we get in return?
Panic attacks from (just thinking about)
how our parents will handle
precious, treasured truths that
we hold in our hearts and
giddily whisper to each other in the dark
with a sense of danger and adrenaline
Yet we can't help but want to share them
with each other, with adults, with the world
(look how beautiful and new and vulnerable it is
this truth that I've hidden in my heart)
Because we were taught to be honest
We long to be honest
But are afraid our precious truths will be tainted
By this society of lies
Created by people who say they love us and want the best for us
But if they really care that much
Then why
Why make it so painful to let you know
What we want the most
What we think is best
To share with the people we love what we love

I do not want peace
Peace allots for too much time to think
I do not wish for wisdom
I have been trapped inside my head for far, far too long
I do not seek joy
It is fleeting and insubstantial
I do not require hope
I have plenty to spare, thank you

What I crave in the depths of my being is chaos
What I desire is life lived fully
I want to dance upon the rims of volcanoes
I wish for thunderstorms
Crashing upon my bare feet
I seek sunlight peeking through greenly leaves
I require adventure and extraordinary ordinaries
                 I want to breathe

I don't expect you to understand
The need to go to extremes
Just to feel alive, something
Or the way her words take me
From cloud nine to decimated

I don't assume you'll know why
I suffocate after being inside too long
Yet I can't be tamed when outdoors
Why I never raise my voice when we fight
I just lose it instead

I don't want you to fathom why
I can't trust those I love anymore
And my confidant is you alone
Or if you get too close I run
Why being alone is always better

But if you'll listen you might start to

I fear that I am too much
That no one could ever see it all
That even I could not comprehend me
I have always been too easily
Misinterpreted
I fear that I am too honest
I tell when asked and
I answer all questions fully
When things need not be
Exposed
I fear that I am too tough
I am not feminine enough
Violence is always an option
Words do not hurt me
Anymore
I fear that I am too independent
I cannot help the way I was raised
In the middle of five children
I was surrounded yet
Alone
I fear that I am not capable of love
That all of these might hinder
Any progress before it has begun
That it might be lost, drowned within
Apathy

I fear that I am too much to be loved

I find much enjoyment in just being
In breathing in the moment
Whether it be one full of pain
Full of confusion and stress
Or one full of satisfaction,
Peace, or the purest of joys
Because what I feel is not what
Actually matters at all
What matters is that I am alive
And that I feel these things is
Merely proof that I am human
And if I love, I love as deeply as
I can and when it is gone I
Treasure the fact that I was
Given that experience even if
It was the most painful thing,
Even if it was never reciprocated
And if I dedicate my time to making
Something or contribute a piece of
Myself to a project it is never for
Recognition or to leave my mark,
It is merely because I enjoy spending
My time that I am allotted doing
Something I find enjoyable and
Worthwhile and if it also brings
Others joy or meaning is it not all the
More reasonable to continue as I am?

I hate roses
I hate the idea that  love
Has been boiled down to
Being velvety and soft and seductive
Just beauty and pain
Something you can find in a grocery store
Half-wilted next to several of the same
Or in a garden, bred and cultivated
To look pretty in a designated area
Cut back when grown too big or wild
I hate that roses embody culture's idea of femininity

Bare feet pad down stairs
A tea kettle murmurs
And in the darkness the loneliness for once
Comforts under the light of a single bulb

Here, in this place, time ceases and
Fatigue bears no claim and
The brash clutter of day is no more
Here in the in-between of existence

Where failures of the previous day refresh and
The imminence of the next's tasks does not yet hold
Here there is peace that sleep lacks
And a solitude fear refuses to enter

This is the refuge of sinners and saints
Where dreamers thrive and wise men seek

I revel in the small things
In moments set apart by fire and gazing at stars.
In quiet friendships and sharing hearts.
In laughing for no reason and winding country roads
Windows down and music loud.
In wondering and learning and teaching and growing.
Because its all of the small things that make up a life well lived.

It is important to know
To have someone acknowledge
That your opinions and what you have to say
Matter
Whether it is something they disagree with
It still matters.
There is no need to qualify, to preface
What you as a person have to say
Your thoughts have value
You have worth
You're freaking brilliant. Let the world see that.

I will dance to the sound of your heart beating
It reverberates through my being, my soul
You think it is like all others, it is just a heart
But that's the thing, it isn't like any other
It is yours, and at times it beats fiercely
And I have the urge to fling myself, hair
Flailing like its own entity at you, leaping
But at others it soothes me more than the ocean
Calm, steady, over and over and over again
As I draw my legs up close to its lullaby,
Spinning myself to rest upon your chest
There are moments when it beats so painfully
So slow, so morose, as if the sadness that weighs
Upon it will crush its brilliant spirit, its passion
I will dance to remind you of your importance
I will dance to the beat of your drums
I will dance to the sound of your heartbeat

I  often spend my nights unable to sleep
And in them I think of all those people
who have someone to lie beside them
And sometimes I wish I had someone
Whose love could tame the voices inside
Just enough so I could finally get some sleep
And for years I've called this loneliness
But I've heard it said somewhere along the way
That you can only miss something you've had

So, in that case I guess I'm just jealous

Welcome back Koine,
I bet someone as strong-willed and stubborn as you
Really is enjoying the wild weather you bring

Daughter of Demeter
Your mother's joy this year is brilliant as ever
As flowers bloom from every corner of the earth

Wife of Hades
How perplexing must this season be for you
A reunion and a goodbye at the same time

Persephone
I hope you get a nice tan this year

I was startled when
a friend told me that she
felt sorry for men and their
responsibility as head of family

As if the moment she got married
All choices and fiscal pressures
All control of her life
Would belong to him alone

And in that moment I suffocated
And something died inside me
That this brilliant beautiful creature
Longed for such a sedentary life
That she would willingly step into
Something so opposite to all of my desires
A life so at ease seems stagnant
Drowning, clipped and a locked cage
I’d rather be lonely than let my fire die
I’d rather struggle than not live life to the fullest

Beside my window
There is a Japanese maple tree
And it is much taller
Than most of its kind
It survived the fire
That burnt down the original
House it stood next to
I want to be like it someday
I want to be able to withstand
Whatever life throws at me
And become more than I could ever dream

I
I never had a space
A space that was my own
I have four siblings
You're never alone
But, I
Somewhere along the way
   (Rather early on, actually)
I realized that we don't think
The same ways
At all

And I spent most of my life
Having my opinions drowned out
And I just
Never had the space to
Just process
And form what exactly
I believed and what I wanted
From life
Or even
the space to realize
how I felt
and how to process that

I felt like a plant that
sprang up too close to others
And now that I've been transferred
I have a new planter and the right sunlight
And my soil is  nice and damp
And I'm catching up, I'm flourishing
And I'm learning about myself
But I feel so far behind and I
Just wish I had space earlier
Where I felt safe to grow
The way I was meant

I’ve learned that you always have to make a mess to create something beautiful
Like the way all if the dirt doesn’t quite fit back into the hole you dug to plant the flower bulb in
Or how hours after you’ve finished painting you’re still finding blue under your fingernails and white by your elbow
And sometimes the mess isn’t so fun to make
Often you face a mess you don’t know how to clean
Some messes take years, decades even, to wash off, to wipe up, straighten
Change, uprooting may feel bad, wrong
It’s scary and painful and it seems like hell at times
But never doubt it’s purpose, it’s season, the way it grows and betters you
It makes you beautiful

Mother, I love you but
I hate it when:

You try to mend things as soon as they break
Nothing can be wrong in your perfect kingdom
Did you even consider that Humpty Dumpty
Could not be fixed? That maybe, just maybe
There was a reason he fell and a hug cannot
Change the fact that you just told him you
Hated him for loving the prince?

Or maybe you say that you are on my side
But the second the cavalry arrives
You immediately rush to the king's aide
And leave me with whiplash
As you wipe the yolk from your hands
"Oh my, what a terrible fall?"
Who do you think gave the push?

Mother I am sorry
I know that you are weak
That you aim to please and
You aim for peace and harmony
Within your household

Mother I am sorry
I know that you are frightened
By things you do not know
And so you cling to your
Ignorance and hatred

Mother I am sorry
Too often you take offense
For things that are not about you
Because you do not understand
Your children's hearts

But mother I am not sorry
For taking stand against
Him who calls you wife
When he hurts you, hurts us
Because you should not allow it

And mother I am not sorry
For admitting who I am
And who I have always been
Even though I am broken
And much too heavy to hold anymore

Mother I cannot count on both of my hands
The number of times that I came to you
Asking for you to quiet my fears but instead you
Stole my words

Mother the number of tears I've cried
Is most likely still less than
The number of times I've come to you
With a problem or a worry and you
Made it about you

But Mother I remember when I told you
That I could not take this life any more
And you told me it was just a phase
And you left me to drown in the darkness
Alone

And Mother I recall clearly the day
When Father threatened to turn me
From house and home and you
Just stood there
By his side in silent agreement

And I guess that's the day where
The family house stopped being home
And you stopped being Mom
You might not have noticed it
I've called you many versions of mom
In varying languages
Because you're still a mom
But you're no longer mine

God knows how I wish you were because I miss my Mom

"I don't know the first thing about love"
I've never known love that wasn't obligated
An " I love you" didn't cut my throat on its way out
That didn't either send me spiraling into panic
Or fleeing a million miles away from my own body
Nothing but love that trapped and silenced and burned
A love with wicked teeth and acid dripping from it's tongue
That seared me to the core and decided even that was worthless
"But they're family, you gotta love 'em, right?"

Now you stand before me
Saying you want nothing in exchange for your love
Just to be here, together,
But I can't
Can't stay until those arms become a cage
Can't wait for those hands to grab me when I run
Can't let the honey dripping from your lips sour and burn
Can't stand here smiling while I wait for the shoe to drop
Can't wait for that 'nothing' to become 'something' to become 'everything' and I just become a 'thing'
To you

And maybe that's not what love is to you
Maybe your love doesn't come with puppet strings or gleaming teeth that slice
Maybe the mere thought of this definition of love
Sends you reeling with anger and pity and revulsion at the injustice of it all
Maybe it scares you
Maybe it makes you rethink everything you've ever known
About this wild, loud, joyous being you're staring down
And maybe like I thought I'm both too much and not enough, broken and melted and rebuilt in a way
That I don't know the first thing about love

I once had someone tell me
That because they knew themself
And their flaws
They could never love themself
And I-
I didn't know quite what to tell them

But I also didn't want to leave it at that
Because we're our own worst judges
We replay everything we've done wrong
And forgive others but not ourselves
Which is just too cruel

And to base the amount of love we accept
From yourself or others
Off the flaws you see in yourself
Is giving up the fight before it's begun
Because you're missing out on so much

You accept the love you think you deserve
But, love, you deserve more than you accept

My family has always been strange in that we rename everything
And it always made sense to me
They called me something different depending on how I was acting
They've always done it
Except...
I'm the only one whose nickname changes
Depending on whether
I'm snarky and salty and full of Puck-like mirth
                       or
I'm depressed and growling and listless
                        or
I'm light and smiling and childlike, pure joy

and they never overlap and I wonder
which is the real me?
I wake up and instantly know which kind of day it will be depending
On who I wake up as and it seems that most people can't tell the differences between me and... me.

I've always told people that it doesn't matter what they call me-
I often don't recognise myself in the first place
Eventually I'll figure out who they refer to anyway.

Go, throw yourself into the sea.
Let the sky catch your cares.
Let the wind wipe your tears.
Let the waves caress your skin.
Let the water catch your fall and lift you up
until the sun kisses your face.
Not all is lost when thrown into the sea.

She is not merely a bookworm
She does not read for pleasure
She reads to survive
She reads to distract herself
She reads to thrive
Her words do not collect dust upon the shelf.
She is a devour-er of books
Ink drips from her lips as she tries to
Contain the words that she bleeds
She exhales chaotic eloquence
Her tongue wrestles to wrap around words more
consumed than heard
Her mind races to find that one perfect
syllable to turn her phrase from
biting and bitter to
savory yet sarcastic
Her smirk is merely a collapsing floodgate
Words will soon flood free
Watch her eyes, you'll see
She is not merely a bookworm

Most of the time when people talk to me it catches me
           ...offguard

It's not that I don't like it or I don't want to
I just...
                      I'm not there
(please leave a message I'll be back as soon as possible)
But right now I'm blissfully lost in the ether of the otherness
                      It's quite a long trip back and the road is not clear
You are important to me    I s w e a r
I just need a moment to collect my s el f into that person
That you call "Me" because I'm not her right now
                    I got lost
                                   (again)
I'm not quite sure who I am at the moment
and quite frankly, you startled me    !!!
because I am invisible right now
           (How did you see through my spell
                     How did you not see right through me?)
and like magic
                         I am not r e a l
                                but you are painfully so
Dragging me back to my body time and time again
                   (my head hurts i think i have
                               whiplash)
Oh!
There I am and here you are!
Hello friend!
I'm back to myself again.

Sometimes I feel like the moon
Some days I'm bright and cheerful
Eager to give love to all
Other days I'm cautious
Still bright, but not as honest
A few days you only get
The slightest glimpse
Of my heart and my smile
And then there comes a day
Where I shut everyone out
The sun is dark in my eyes
Because even I can't stand myself
But it always gets better
And I always shine bright once more

Please, do not ask me about love
It is not for lack of willingness
But I do not know it
I have been a little too sheltered
A little too isolated to know it
Some tell me it it painful
"Be grateful"
It appears to be fickle
And often quick to depart
When it finds me
I pray that it is substantial and understanding
and worth it

Please do not ask me about love
I have yet to meet him

Sometimes I feel like a lost puzzle piece
The one that somehow skittered under the couch
Unnoticed and unnecessary
Until everyone else has found their places

And it feels like forever
Before that hand reaches out to you
Where you sit with the dust bunnies
That one goldfish and two pennies

And the joy when you are found
Is incomparable because
They need you or the whole puzzle
Is worthless

So hold tight a little while longer

Man has always been drawn to the ocean.
Drawn to lose himself in the
            vastness
Only to be pulled back to shore
Back to the mediocrity
To bake the moment of clarity
He found in the crashing of the waves
From his skin as it reddens in shame.

Like a fire struggling to light
I send off signals hoping someone will help
Because I  am spiraling
            down
                          down
         and I'm afraid that I'll run out of oxygen
             to stay alight, to be bright
      like I was
Like I was meant to be
Some days I burn myself to exhaustion
Lighter fluid doesn't help if nothing catches
Over and over I try to light
To be the hope in this dark night
So please help
                burn bright with me
            to help those
      who are
          struggling
  burn
     taller

I spend a lot of my time in a seemingly constant high
I’m always down for an adventure, to hang out with friends, to help out
I thrive in chaotic jumbles of people and music and nature
And so often I’m asked where it all comes from
Especially after learning about how things used to be for me
But that’s the thing
It’s because I know that things get better
That fire gets brighter
That the light shines in the darkness, but the darkness does not overcome it
That you can enjoy the little things
And from time to time I get a little lonely
And sometimes I my heart breaks for how things used to be
And then the sun rises again and the day is new
And so often that is all I need