there was girl made of flowers and twine

they said she was the light

but all she saw was the darkness in the night

hands cupped like spring blooms

she held desire like burning fire

I am the fourteen year old girl held on the bed
I am the girl screaming in my sleep
I am the girl, crying, alone
I am the girl who watched others get hurt.

I am the girl who sent a ****** to prison.

I am my anxiety,
Welling like an oncoming flood in my stomach and
Hammering in my throat
I am my depression,
Back and forth, up and down, like a heart rate monitor
I am my trauma
Held deep in my body,
My muscles corded around the pain I can’t get rid of.

I am the girl who defied it all
I am the girl who made a difference
I am the girl who stood up!

And I am here,
I am the girl who is stronger than I ever imagined.

I spent near a quarter of my life thus far doing stupid **** for stupid reasons.

I had *** with boys because I could. It didn't change anything; I was still depressed, lonely, and bitter.

I smoked joints because I wanted to. I drank alcohol because there was nothing better to do. I smoke cigarettes because I was too young.

I spent useless years of my life obsessing over what other people thought of me. I spent meaningless time thinking I was in love with boys who didn't love me. I would have done anything for people who would have done nothing for me. I found myself and I lost myself.

I spent useless, meaningless, empty time thinking everything was fine, only to find myself here and now wondering what the **** I was doing.

So here I am. I will no longer waste my time, because I see that there is value in it.

Today my time is valued and important; do not waste my time.

In some ways I know who I am today is the greatest person I could ever be.

In other ways, I know I could have done so many other great things.

I am successful, smart, strong. But did I follow the right path?

Had I pursued other dreams and opportunities, would I be a different person?

But why do I bother questioning my past? Who I am now is what matters!

...And yet...

Did I make the right decisions?

First, let me thank you
Even when you weren't the one for me,
You were always by my side
When he wasn't
Even when I couldn't make up my mind,
You didn't waver

Second, let me apologize
I have hurt you
In a way I cannot forgive myself for
But I promise, I want to make it up to you

I have made up my mind,
I know what I want,
I want you!

I have made up my mind,
But now you are so far away
I have made up my mind,
And you left my side

I am so sorry
Come back to me

It has been many days since I felt the need to cry myself to sleep
It has been many days since I felt the need to cut
It has been many days since I felt the need to scream
It has been many days since I felt the need to go to sleep
And
Never
Wake
Up

But here you are
And the only day I can think of is the same for the last month
The same, never ending, day
And I'm back to my old ways

Here you are
And
There I go

It has been a long day.
I have laid in bed.
I have showered.
I have looked at this computer screen.
I have cried
I have cried
I have cried...
It has been a long day.

"You're so ungrateful."
"You don't appreciate me waking you up."
You didn't have to.
"You don't appreciate me making you lunch."
I can do it instead.
"You don't appreciate me driving you around. I should've made you walk."
I just don't want to be an hour early. I'm just tired.
"You don't even say thank you."
There are so many things I wish I were allowed to say.
I get out of the car.
"You're welcome!"
You drive off. Fast.
All I did was forget my medication.

She prowled into my territory
looking for my hidden things.
She was quiet like a panther
thinking I could not see.
I knew my things had been touched
I could feel her energy in my space.
Little did she know
I was a fox
just looking for my bait.

The day is Monday, March 16th, 2015.
We are in the Idaho State Correctional Institution.
Today, the Idaho Commissioners of Pardons and Parole will decide if my ****** will be released on parole in September.

Many people come in, exchanging their I.D for their visitors' pass.
We all wait in a small L-shaped room, tense, waiting.
His family comes in, and the guard escorts them to another room.
Finally, a parole officer enters. She leads us through a metal detector.
We have to wait in the visiting room, while my ****** is brought into the hearing room.
His family goes in first, then us, along with my supporters.
The deputy calls us to order and explains what will happen.
He says his family may speak, if they have a statement.

She stands up.
"Your relation?"
"Mother."
"Go ahead."

He has managed to get his GED.
He has had his own struggles with other inmates.
He is a "good Christian boy."
He has served his time for his "non-violent crime."
I cry.

The deputy looks doubtful.
He tells the commissioners to begin.

Commissioner Bowstaff is first.
She asks him the nature of his crime, his five DORS, his lost job while inside.
She asks if he is aware of the recommendation they received.
He says yes.
She phrases her next thought carefully:
"Are you aware the interviewer described you as aloof, uncaring, and says you describe yourself as the victim?"
He seems befuddled.

Next is Commissioner Matthew.
He is a sharp looking man, and asks if he feels like his crime is "violent."
He responds.
"No."
"And yet you call yourself Christian?"
"I am Christian."
"God should be ashamed then."
His parents are shaking their heads.

Commissioner Moore.
"You minimize everything. You aren't taking responsibilities for your actions. If you can't follow the rules in here, how do we know you'll follow them out there?"
"I don't know."

Commissioner Bowstaff asks if, as the victim, I have anything to say.
I tell her yes, and she asks me to stand and state my name.
"Lauren Busdon."
"You have a minute to speak."

I tell them I am terrified to see him.
I will start my senior year in August.
His release will continue to effect my school career.
I have only just managed to speak the word "****" in the last two months.
There are other girls, so many others, who are afraid to say anything.
But they say it to me.

They dismiss us to make their decision.
I sob as we walk out of the room.

Everyone is proud of me, saying no matter what, I did my best. I was there, that's what matters now.
But what if it wasn't enough?

The deputy comes in to shake my hand.
"The commissioners have come to an agreement. Parole will be denied for 18 months, and we will meet again in September of 2016."
I laugh and my dad slams his fist on the table. My mom dissolves into tears.
"You are welcome to hear the announcement."
I say, "hell yeah I want to hear it!"

He hangs his head when they tell him.
His mother makes a strangled noise of upset.

We leave.
People are hugging me.
I am crying.
I don't know if I should be proud, or if I should just revel in the sheer joy of not having to see him for 18 months.
18 more months of freedom.
18 more months of trying to live.

I am a survivor,
whirlwind of noise,
devoid of emotion
yet bursting,
eyes filled with tears
as they told me not to do.

I can see a future.

We make dinner and clean together,
You listening to your music
While I read my book before we eat.

Taking turns letting the dog out,
Watching movies and
Doing simple chores and laundry.

You'll get up for work in the morning,
And I'll beg you to come back to bed,
In your eyes I see you want to.

And it blows me away
How much I love you...
Don't break my heart again.

First,
Its your hair, long and out of control,
That I love.

Second:
Your eyes, strong and steady,
That entrances me.

Third,
Your body, full of protection and strength,
I cannot resist.

I have fallen in love with you.

I could spend hours looking into your eyes
As they burn into mine
Hours, romanticizing the way they make me feel

Grey and ice blue, slate colored and wild
The different shapes and colors they take
Depending on how you feel

When you want me:
A blinding turquoise
When you're unhappy:
Horribly cold slate
When you're content:
Storm grey

I have never feared you,
or your love.

Memories, memories.
Your face in my head,
Hand on my heart.
Memories.

You asked if I would kiss you,
but I told you no.
You kissed me instead.
I hadn't felt a thing until then.

Memories.
You laughing as a fool,
Smoking like fuel.
Your **** blue eyes,
Staring straight into my soul.

When your hand curved across my cheek,
or bent around my back.
The pain in your eyes when you said you weren't coming back.
Memories.

jesus, youre an *******,
i guess i need to understand
what compels such actions
or the contempt in your eyes?

what did i do wrong?
i cant handle these guessing games
tell me what you dont understand,
let me clarify things.

maybe you forgot,
i have blood on my hands
fault in my heart;
i am a victim but a survivor too.

baby, please listen to me

listen to me at 3 in the morning when im falling out of control
listen to me when its 9 at night and im begging you to stay just a bit longer
listen to me when i run away and call you with my last bit of change

my love, listen to me

listen when my anxiety spirals out of control
listen when my flashback tears me away
listen when there are too many people around me

baby, listen to me

listen when the razor is on my skin and the smoke is in my lungs
listen when i have no where to go and the pills are so nice
listen when i dont know where i am and i love that with a hateful passion

listen to me.

My craving for that cigarette bouncing in my hand
didn't match my need for a razor
My need for that open minded **** induced haze
doesn't match my blood cure for the pain
I've got a lot on my mind
maybe I need all three

humble nothings
      gently held
she was heaven
      or she was hell

She was shy and easily contented. She fell in love with books and made her own music, and she laughed freely; though not at herself. She could burst into flames or crash into a puddle, but she was okay with life. She was naive and blind, a quiet girl who had big thoughts, who thought she understood the world and everyone in it. She trusted the wrong person, and her fragile glass bubble shattered in seconds. Nervous and afraid, she was a blubbering, confused fool who tried to save herself. She didn't understand what was to happen; what she had done. She was cut off and she was scared, so she did what she thought could protect her. She was wrong.

Her canvas was blank, clear as new snow;
Her pencils sharp, like talons of a falcon;
Her breath was even, music to his ears;
Her tears were bright, falling like diamonds;
Her razor glinted, sharp as frozen ice;

He watched her glide with grace
Paint with confidence,
Laugh like rain,
Smile like blooming flowers.

How he craved her-
Craved the smile on her face,
Craving to see the stunning rainbow within her.

I was an uncontrollable tidal wave
Breaking against unsuspecting shores
Unable to hold back the
Crushing weight of broken beings
I wrecked the simplicity that surrounded me
Content to be a raging tsunami.

I lacked where others prevailed
I succeeded only where I should not
I shaped shores into desolate and confused islands
Pushing farther away
My waves did not settle
If anything, they swelled higher.

I crashed on rocks sharper than my heart and
Broke away
I preferred chaos to thought
I did not look back,
Nor away.

you deserve better.
better than my careless, random, probing texts.
better than the pain you've felt.
i deserve better.
better than your dry, annoyed texts.
better than the emptiness you left me with.

remember when we were together? 9 long months.
i was 14, a child really. you were 17. we didn't mind.
it was after my incident, i was still healing. but you,
you affected me deeply. we didn't start slow, no, we dived in,
holding our breath, because we needed each other.

remember when we kissed for the first time? 3 days after we met.
it was past midnight, we were out exploring.
i stuck my body through the sun roof and i smiled so much it hurt in the best way.
we came back to your house, no one was home. and i looked at you,
and you laughed. then your mouth was on mine and we lay there,
hours, kissing with a passion i craved.

remember my first flashback? 2 months in.
we were in bed, cuddling with no one home. we were content.
my therapist warned me, anything could happen. i didn't even think,
and it was only your hand on my hip, pulling me tight,
and i froze like a cold hand gripped my heart.
you held me loosely while i cried, a pain i didn't know i had,
a pain i didn't know needed to be let out.

remember your truck? 3 months between us.
how the stars were amazing, so we went "exploring," we thought we were clever. we went up a mountain, holding hands while you drove.
when we parked, we climbed into the bed of the truck with blankets.
we laughed and talked and thought,
this is forever. at least i did.

remember our first sleepover? our parents gave in after 4 months.
we stayed at your house, when your mom was gone. i was naive,
yet you didn't mind. the hot tub was perfect, the wine we stole
from the hidden cupboard just right for the moment. we showered together, then climbed into bed. we learned a lot,
that warm, luxurious night.

remember my birthday? 5 months after our kiss.
there was a bad fire at home, lots of evacuations, lots of smoke and fear.
we left and went to the city to get away. we stayed together,
you and me, by ourselves. you made me special that day. you,
it was you that my world revolved around, you, you that i never wanted to leave. my birthday is one of my favorite days
of you and me.

remember when i had to go back to court? 8 months, almost done.
the day i found out, you  came and picked me up. i cried.
you didn't know how to help. you held my hand. i was
helpless, ruined, depressed. we stayed together all night,
and you held me with a nervous expression on your face,
it was one of the worst memories.

9 months.
you and me.
i love you.
you loved me.
you left me
before court
on my own

betrayed.
i loved you.

I crave the cigarette sitting in my hand,
And the jump in my knee,
The twitch of a smile on my face,
And the sparkle of my oncoming laugh glinting in my eyes.

My hand twitches, my mouth is drawn,
And my legs are crossed far too tightly to be comfortable,
My lips pull back on occasion, either a grimace or a growl, I don't know.
My eyes are cold and a tear sits on my cheek.

Tell
Me
Who
I
Am

All I want to do is
Feel some find of
Love
Even if it's from a
Cold blade
Cutting lightly
Gently parting my skin
Giving me a thin line of blood as a
Reward

I'm
Sick
Inside &
I
Guess
I
Don't
Really
Mind

He sat on his side of the room,
With his parents behind him in the stands,
And his protector spouting lies beside him.

He looks at me often,
His jaw often clenches,
And his eyes often flash with hidden anger that only I can see.

Now I walk up, right in front of him,
And I swear that I speak the truth.
I only face the judge, but I make my voice
Strong, even when it shakes through my tears.

So many people gathered on my side of the large room,
That even not looking at them makes me nervous.
But I won't back down, I am speaking the truth,
And the ruler understands my pain.

Now it is his turn...
And he can't walk to the stand.
It amuses me, but it is not humorous.

He speaks, and his voice shakes me to the core.
It hits my soul, and my whole body shakes!
He looks at me now and begs for forgiveness.
My tears run red with my pain,
But it is not in vain.
Justice is served,

Now I can watch your tears fall,
And I feel bad... But it's okay.

He stole from me
Everything that made me sane
And it is not my fault,
But I was scared.
Who would willingly
Side with the thief?

He is part of the wind and the trees
His soul turns the sky blue
The sun through the clouds is him watching over us
The warmth we feel is his love
Stars in the sky are his twinkling smile.

Though we may feel empty and sad,
Our tears mean something
Our memories live on.
Angels rejoice at his presence
Though much too early,
He is happy.

I thought hard,
What am I?
Who am I?
This is all I could think, because I am split.
I am a girl, who is weaker than she seems.
I am but a 16 year old child, who has lived thousands of years.
I am a blonde haired, blue eyed kid, who doesn't want to grow up.
I am a clumsy baby, who wants to learn to be graceful.
I am someone who holds her head high, who wishes she could cry.
I am a brave woman, who cuts her skin when no one is around.
I am a powerful inspiration, who curls in the shower and cries.
I am like an ocean moving back and forth, who wishes she could control her waves.
I am the stars at night, who help the lost and alone.
I am the sun and moon, who fight against each other with love and light.
I am two different people inside, and I don't know how to get the other out.

Sometimes, I don't know who I am, because
I am not one or me.  
I don't know who to be me, or how to be her;
I don't know how to stand tall, when I would like to fall;
I don't know how to speak simply, when all I do is yell;
I don't know how to empty the pain in my mind without hurting my body;
I don't know how to be one with the wind, who pushes me across the sand;
how to show you the pictures I can make in the sky;
or how to shine with both lights;
or how to just be me or just be her.

I guess this isn't a poem.
I suppose this is a cry for help.
Every time I try to write,
or even just let things flow,
My mind blanks up and I cease to feel.

My emotions won't stop raging,
My screams stay high-pitched and brittle,
My mouth like to run things it's way,
Yet every time I try to write,
I cease to feel all of it.

Perhaps this is a good thing,
My lack of feelings,
The numbness, shutting down.
But I want to be in control,
I don't know how anymore.

This wasn't really a poem,
There was no rhyme, nor reason.
I finally got it out,
I remembered how it felt.
I guess this wasn't a poem,
But it was a cry for help.

I helped myself.

It's been over a year now
Just over a year
And I cried with my soul, my broken soul...
And he didn't say anything,
Did he even know?

He wasn't there, for when it was a year,
For when it was six months of us,
For when it was four years he was stolen.

And it's a good thing I don't believe in God,
Because He wasn't there either.
And I'm laughing;
Laughing in Your pitiful face,
Because You don't exist! You are nothing!
And I pity You...

I pity you, I pity You,
Because you are sad, and You are alone,
You were never there.
Did you even know?

The words spill from my lips
Almost like a broken faucet.
My veins are blue and close under my skin
Just like lines drawn on a map.
The scars on my wrists are pale and gorgeous,
Like the last rays of sunlight in the evening.
The friends I once had
Fade away like the waning moon.

Never have I seen
A faucet like this.
This map is
Strange to read.
The sun is setting
On glinting razors.
The night is
Not where I want to be.

I screamed, and my throat was raw,
I saw red and black,
my mouth was opened in a grimace,
and the tears tasted salty in my mouth.

I was lashing out, and I knew it.
My scream was meant to slap her,
I hoped she saw the same pain I did,
I wanted her to draw back at my anger,
I hope she tasted the same salty rage.

But she only stood there,
unimpressed,
because I am crazy.

Walking on a road
Covered in dead bones.
They speak to me:
They tell me the sacrifices I'll make
And the ones I already have.
I do not enjoy it,
Yet I cannot stop-- I won't be able to keep going.
I must keep walking.
I must ignore the crunch beneath my feet.

There's a tightness in my chest,
It hasn't gone away since she called the emergency room-
Since they put me on suicide watch.

My hands keep tingling,
My head spins and I'm far too dizzy to concentrate.
Reaching out is not an option.

I don't want to leave.
A hospital where my things are taken away.
Will it be like suicide watch?
A bare, tiled floor
Hard hospital bed.

The medications they gave me,
I don't like them. I am grey
Today, there are no blues.

They're kicking in now, I can feel myself going.
My eyes hurt,
and my fingers ache,
I can barely type. I need to get this out.
Get this out,

Get this out,
Medication
Hospital
Tiles
Cold
Suicide watch.