I am not a godly soul.
I am no fool to be told:
when to pray and how
to act. Breaking my back
for some divine pact.

But without god,
where are you?
Does that mean your
soul has withered, too?
You have passed
without us meeting.
But when I'm ready,
will it be you I'm seeing?

Or are you simply
bled and flushed.
Kicked out of my home
much too rushed.
My structures could not
bear your life. You're
cradle broke, despite my
plight.

I am not a godly soul.
No book of hypocrites
can tell me no.
I don't search for answers
in the form of prayer.
But I'd believe in god,
if I could have you here.

I know a girl who tries to read people the way she reads books.
But people aren't two dimensional, and they can't be pressed into
page after page of dialogue and action. Black and white stand as a
testimony to truth, but reality comes in a variety of shades and
when her blood comes out red and sings a tune sweeter than any book
or bible written by man, she is left somewhere between fiction and non-fiction.
The badlands of indecision, where her beliefs search for a home built on rock
instead on the sand.

Dirt, the dust on your
shoes, your pointed boots
that pierce the skin as you
trample over everyone you
meet, this is what I'm
worth to you?

It's certainly how you
treat me. Like a scratch
on your peripheral, just
waiting to be buffed out.
Wiped away without
a second thought. Not
even a hint of regret harbored
in your unforgiving eyes.

What did I do this
time? To upset the almighty king.
How did I breach your
throne? Yesterday we shared
the feast, today I'm left
without a drop of water.
Nothing to quench
my thirst for answers,
for answers to your
endless puzzles.

What do I need to do,
to make myself exist to you?

Silence lingers in crisp autumn air
as my feet rebound off concrete.
The uphill journey is traveled alone,
except for fellow early birds
and rare squirrels skittering across my path.
Questioning, I think, if I am threat enough
to keep them from their hunt for breakfast.

Sunlight fights its way through leaves
to flicker across my sleepy eyes.
As if the morning itself is trying to
jump start my system.
Wake me up for the long day ahead.

Finding my favorite perch
at the top of the hill,
I sit to watch campus slowly come to life.
Starting with a squirrel
and his newly found peach treasure,
and ending with the faces
of my unknown classmates.

This is Western, at 8 a.m.

Deep, dark and numb inside
My broken thoughts fall like pieces of shattered glass
Crashing at my feet with the rest of my world
Scarring up my skin as they drop
Forever marking me as something obscene

                                                                              Locked away pain,
                                                                            Makes the best smile.
                                                                         I’ll smile for you always.
                                                                           Leave you untouched.


While shaky fingers stitch me together
Pills make pain fade like magic potions
A wonderful shade of grey settles in my brain
The best I can hope for, all things considered.

                                                                           You’re really trying,
                                                                              I guess I will too.
                                                                       I’ll smile for you always.
                                                                         Leave you untouched.

Tempting old habits make my skin itch
Pleading the best kind of medicine
The pain that will send me high out of grey
But under watchful eyes it’s pointless to dream

                                                                     You’re sounding so happy,
                                                                        How can I not be too?
                                                                       I’ll smile for you always.
                                                                        Leave you untouched.

My rolling stomach won’t stop yelling
My racing thoughts won’t slow down
I could use a dose of you more than ever
But instead I’ll swallow hard and try to sleep

                                                                       I’ll smile for you always.
                                                                       I’ll leave you untouched.
                                                                       Safe from my madness.
                                                                       Safe from my hang ups.

It never ceases to amaze me, how every day, children die.

And here, we don't seem to mind.

It always irks me, when people look in the mirror and complain about their extra pounds, while babies starve before their first birthday.

Yet everyday, we throw away pounds and pounds of food.

Tell me a story that ends happy. Spin me a tale where everyone shares. Because no matter how naive it makes me, I believe we should live in a world where everyone has enough to live by. I believe that every night, a little boy or girl, should had something more than dirt to eat.

I guess I'm a dreamer, but why not be? Why not dream up the world as a place where people live in harmony. Everyone says that with enough effort, your dreams can come true.

So what surprises you? That there is child hunger in the world? Or that more people aren't trying to stop it?

I will light your way.
When the world tries to
shut you out,
I'll  be there each day.

For you see I've traveled,
the road you're on before.
It will get worse before it gets
better, but that's what I'm here for.

You're a special person,
don't you ever give in
to the people that will shoot
your hope. You must never
let them win.

When the winds blow too hard,
and the rain feels like hail.
When your knees are scraped with cruelty,
it is then you must prevail.

Because no matter how hard they try to press,
the air from your precious lungs. Remember
that I am here, and I will make you strong.

From birth children are told that love is bowing before an almighty god.
Bowing before their parents, priests, and teachers. Instilled with fear
of going to a fiery hell unless they believe what is laid out before them.

Is it a wonder how our world has turned out?

Tell me a truth I cannot challenge. Can you do it?
Well, with me, no. I will question and challenge everything.
It is with my curiosity that I take in the beauty of life, it is with this
curiosity that my perception changes from a fearful child to
an empowered, hopeful, and critical thinking adult.

I have not turned to science, but is more solace found there?

Scientists are not looked upon with fear the way gods are.
Scientists tell us of the enormity of the universe, how we connect
to it and are already a part of it. Instead of handing us impending
apocalypses, it hands us a galaxy that can support life for 30 billion more years.

So why not turn to science?
Because, once science told us the earth was flat.

Challenge your world.
Never stop asking questions.
Take not religion as your decider.
Take not science as your crutch.
Sit in silence and use what you find
within yourself to judge and perceive
this life. Here you will find freedom.
Here you will find personal truth.

For as long as I can remember,
I've been practicing safety drills.
school, home, the work place, even planes.

Everyone wants to be prepared
for those so-called natural disasters.
It's stunning how they never think to
prepare you for heart break.
It's so much more common.

You are the earthquake that has me
braced for an aftershock. I am hiding
under doorways, diving for the protection
of restaurant tables. My survival kit
is fresh out of healing, and my wounds are
growing agitated. Why wasn't I prepared for this?

Algebra and Grammar won't help me
get out of bed tomorrow morning.
Testing door handles to see if they are hot
will only keep me away from flesh wounds.
Zoology taught my to dissect a frog,
but your vital organs are so much harder to locate.

Is there even a heart inside your chest?

It's quiet in my house,
except for m o  v   i   n   g air.
Soft snoring from    distant rooms,
and bedspring creaking under
s i t n  weight.
  h f i g

My mouth is bruised and swollen,
from teeth ripped from gums.
But pain meds drift me far away,
from everything I know.

Though sleep does e-v-a-d-e me,
I am bothered not with that.
For some of the best WoNdErInGs
happen when you're ******.

I like the way you smoke your cigarettes.
And how your forehead tenses when you think.
I like the way you hold my hand.
How you tell me stories.

I can never get enough of you.

I wish I could draw back the curtains,
peer just behind your eyeballs, to the brain.
Sit for awhile in your beating heart.
Kiss your lungs and beg them to breathe forever.

Tell me a story, just one more story.

I'd miss the way you smile at me,
just after you know you've made me laugh.
I'd miss the way we sleep together, the
way we lay intertwined.

I'll close my eyes, and pray I never lose you.

Life is funny.
There is such
a thin line,
between good
and bad. Right
and wrong. Pain
and healing.

Today I hurt myself.
I watch my blood run
and I smiled. I smoked
a black and mild nice
and slow, thinking
about the benefits of
cancer. Dying.

Today I could have
stopped myself.  A few
breathes, a hot shower.
I could have left
my sharp edged friend
untouched. I could have
called someone to
enjoy feeling loved.

But I didn't.

Today I almost died.
Yesterday I did.
I wonder what tomorrow
Will bring me.