i hope
one day,
that your heart will be my home
and i will never have to go searching for it again.

it's going to be one year and 11 months
11 days from now.
oh, how the time flies.
almost two years
i've been privileged with your company.

although, your company was my privilege since i was in 8th grade.
five years of friendship
and two of those getting to call you mine.

there were, of course
the lost months where
i said no to sitting next to you,
and homecoming.

i'm sorry for hurting you
and not being there for you.
but i will be there for you now and forever.

thank you, friend
for loving me as i am.
i promise to do the same.

all of the things i wrote
i could never say to your face.
the way you make me feel
so freely numb.
so beautifully crystalized.

a million shattering pieces
filling up the space,
rattling in the silence,
as you feel its embrace.

spurts.
of.
the.
words.
i.
want.
to.
say.
draw quickly from my mouth
in  c h o p p e d  up sentences.
the truth in its smallest form.

i love you.
i'm sorry.
i'll do better.
i'll be the best.
i'm an idiot.
losing you is not worth it.

It was bad.
I kept dreaming up realities—

one
where we swam in our spandex
after running
and you kissed me on the mouth.

two
where we laid side by side
in the bed of your old truck
and i showed you constellations
and told you each
and every story
that belonged to them.

three
where you held onto me
and your face was buried into my neck
as the tears flowed
from your swampy eyes.

each dream i dream of you
is a waste of energy.

you will never be mine.

painting with our words,
a newer reality.
the desperate gasps of air
for the broken heart,
being filled with abstract,
design, fairytales.
we live in a world we create.
art is the fortress of the broken soul.

nature has become the girl with blonde hair in tight braids,
pulled back,
kept to maintain beauty and image.
but all she wants to do is rip out the ties,
and burn the ribbons in her hair.
there is no beauty in confinement.

YOU ARE THE DAISY IN THE DESERT, PERHAPS YOU THINK YOU ARE ALONE
(if you don't count the grains of sand)
BUT SOMEONE WILL BE GLAD THEY FOUND YOU AND YOU WILL MAKE SOMEONE SMILE, PERHAPS CRY OUT WITH JOY.

YOU ARE MINISCULE BUT YOU ARE IMPORTANT.

DO NOT FORGET THAT.

you're only in north dakota.
and i am slowly slipping into the harsh shadows this sunshiny state creates.
help me. help me.
you're the electric pads in the hospital
that shock me back to life in moments of drought.
kiss me, shock me,
make me feel more alive.
i am disappearing, fading
without you here.
i need you, help me
i'm fading so quickly and i'm so afraid
to be nothing again.

She was the better me.
And I knew it.
No one could distinguish the difference.
No one cared to.

As a shy daydreamer in my early years,
I was transformed into a quiet machine.
Finding it even more difficult
To branch out to others,
And make friends.

I was never confident in myself before,
And i wasn't even when i was medicated.
She was better than me, but not in everything.

Although,
She is quick to tempt me
As i recede from this medication that has made me into the robot that my teachers praise me for,
The lack of confidence rises.
She ****** and prods me and convinces me that every word i say,
Is unimportant.

"These are only ramblings." she tells me.
"Nobody is listening to what you say anyways."

I swear to you,
I believe every darned word that she seeps into my skull.
The medication me has always been the **** job of my brain.
The better, more popular version of me.

And although I continue to pass my classes with outstanding grades,
Without my medication,
It doesn't feel the same.
She knows.
And i know.

But I have been her for eight years.
And i am ready to say goodbye.
She lingers still,
Waiting for the return
That i will not give her.

there are secrets—
in the pocket of my black coat.

you'd rip the ribbons from my braid
and show me how to love
in whispers.
tearing me apart,
only to put me together
and feel accomplished:

like you were the first
to step foot on the moon
or to kiss me.

i love you dearly,
with your olive eyes
and crooked smile.

you weren't very good at love,
and i was very good at lying.

in the shadows of the moonlight,
you kissed me crudely.
(you'd never kissed anyone before.)
you told me you loved me—

and i told you,
lies ridden in the sentence,
that my love was not for you.

you have planted your kisses
and they have spread to my heart.
i can feel the roots hug my beating bruised muscle.
you will always be with me,
your roots will never leave.
you have planted your love in me.
my heart is your garden.

my ghosts,
they turn to me in the night
they hold my hand when i am alone
they know my secrets
i cannot go on knowing my ghosts will forever hurt me

i need to separate myself from them
but they have become a part of my soul

You say all these pretty words—
That make me think I'm enough.
You say I'm what you've always wanted,
And I'm trying my best to believe it.

I don't think you know me,
And all my sad holes,
Or the things that make me cry at night,
And make me feel less whole.

There's a gold gleam on every word,
And i've been hanging on them for too long.
The paint is coming off and there's nothing but plastic,
In this, I see your wrong.

Society is killing me,
Bit by bit.
With pleading eyes and bruised wrists,
I'm watching you stand on my side.
No help is given,
You'd rather watch me as I die.

funny how we'll look back at this moment in time,
and think,
"wow how quickly time passes,"
with children in our hands.

the last of your hand holding mine,
and feeling the familiar roughness,
for two years.

i'll write you letters
and i'll send you poetry.
i'll try my best to enjoy this while you're gone.

two years is a small amount of time.
all at once, it feels like a wave choking the words in my throat.

you haven't left yet,
i know that.

but that isn't going to stop me from missing you.
knowing we're creeping towards your departure,
your two years of service,
scares me.

i already feel so alone tonight.
it's almost like you've already left.

i know this isn't forever,
and our forever only starts after these three years of patience,
but i don't want to say goodbye.
i don't want to stop looking into your brown eyes one last time.

i didn't think i'd fall in love with you,
i didn't think i'd have to say goodbye so soon.

this preparation of separation,
is something i'm not used to.

there are pieces of my heart missing,
but i can't find them.
i think you hid them from me.
you don't keep them by your bed like you used to.
you've burned my soul,
and i'm dying in the flames.
i want to be saved,
but you're not here for saving.
your purpose is purely for destruction.
i fight my own battles and i fight for a piece of mind.
you fight for nothing and stay inside.

say goodbye
through the letters
i wrote to you
on water-logged paper.

fill them with your poetry
written for her.
let me pretend
you wrote them for me.

i'll tell you
i wish i'd kissed you
before i left.

i can't tell
if loving you
has been a delusion.
if loving you
has only been a lie to myself.

miss me.
please.

if i'm to die
before my journey is through,
just know
that i have always
always
always
loved parts of you.

In between the time
from when I get to my car and turn it on—
you're there.
nestled in my brain space.
between all the seconds and minutes
of my day.

you tango with thoughts of him,
i'd say it's a battle.
in between the two of you,
there is me.

this isn't a fight,
but my soul is racked with something
something i cannot name
something i've never known.

in between these fleeting thoughts
i see your faces flash
brown eyes and then blue.
one fighting to stay and threaten the other
to leave.

nothing goes.
your faces mold into
someone i do not know
and the confusion grows.

in between these spaces
are unpredictable thoughts
and feelings
i don't share.
(you linger there.)

i still remember the smell of you,
and the way you kissed me
one last time.

i find myself wishing i could open up
and cry to someone
(someone meaning you)
but you aren't here
and i'm left trying to find words
to describe these musings
in between seconds
to strangers.

your words clung to me
like wet clothes
and tattoos.

i'm trying to forget
what you told me
in the shadow of the day.

you are a creature
unlike all the rest,
still,
there is no one willing
to be your captor.

i would do anything for you.
you are my soul, my love, my only.
i would help you at any hour but i don't get any of this same care in return.
you tell me this is not true,
but i see it in your actions.
actions do not speak lies.

maybe i missed you.
i missed the way you could turn wordless moments into something meaningful.
the way you could touch me and i could feel electricity running down my veins.
you were like the summer,
i was waiting and hoping for the sun while in winter.
you grew flowers in my brain and taught me how to speak like the birds:
chirping melodic songs with the breeze.
you taught me to be beautiful.
i can feel your absence.
maybe i missed you.

Black velvety water ripples,
carrying diamonds on its back.
I'm afraid of the dark.
Although,
You are the only monster
In this figure of the ocean.

We travel amongst the stars,
It feels like we're dying
Reuniting with the universe:
Our dear old mother,
Who gave birth to our fluttering souls.

I always dreamt of drowning.
Through the dark oceans of life,
You were the raft that tugged me back to shore.

You may have been the oceans once,
And the water in my lungs,
But you were the lifeboat
As well as the lighthouse:
Guiding me home to you.
Guiding me home

to you.

this fruit is rotting on my tongue.
and i just feel like crying.
this stress just seems to grab with with it's large meaty hands and suffocate me until i cannot focus.
i'm a morbid wallflower with no real intention on getting better at talking to people i don't know.

i think the earth keeps hoping that even though her children have gone astray,
and hurt her, that they will come back
and tell their mother earth
"i'm grateful for all that you've done for me. i'm sorry i didn't notice it earlier."

you've sold yourself to the women on the movie screens,
and i am just a limp body on your bed.
i'm just waiting for you to touch me,
or kiss me,
or hold me.
but you touch your screen,
and you wish you were hers.
i know you think it.
"i'm not good enough," i tell you,
but you tell me differently and turn back to the screen and press your
hands on the glass tightly enough that you think you're touching her.
i turn to my side and i pour the contents of my soul out on the bed.
but you never noticed.
you were too busy looking at your movie screen.

*this was created to free the bad thoughts in my mind and i'm not sorry if it doesn't please you -mm

Often it is said,
That we must keep moving from the pain and the hurt.
But i do not know
If you are more pain and hurt,
Or somewhere safe to hide.

I love being naked.
Not in a nudist type of way,
But being bare with you.
In soul and body.

To be honest,
And to be completely true.
As well as the bareness of one's body
That allows one to be accepting of it.

I love the way your skin feels,
With all its imperfections and scars.

Now I know it's going to be a while
Until I feel your fingertips on my skin again,
But the wait is going to be worth
every
single
minute.

you dug your hands into my heart,
to plant your tiny seeds,
they blossomed beautifully.
the soil in my heart was washed away with a flood of tears,
and the plants you buried inside of me suffocated my soul and choked me.

i don't think we care enough about other people as we should.
i feel like we care too much about what we're doing for the moment
that we don't realize the pain
we're causing others with this kind of neglect.

my whole life, everyone has hurt me
and forgotten me.
i'm beginning to think nobody is different.

i think that time matters.
that we all need to find someone
who will give us all the time we give them.

i'm tired of giving my love and time
to people who throw it away
and don't even give you the time of day that you gave them.

it leaves you feeling utterly alone.
it's the type of hurt
that will change the person you are.

one day, i'm not going to give my heart out.
one day, you're going to wish you hadn't left me alone.
one day, you'll end up being the one who feels neglected.

i give up on letting people save me.
i'm going to drown.
i'll be the damsel
and i'll be my own hero.

the only way to free yourself
is to let loose every dream and hope.
other people will just bring you pain.

i'm going to live in the ocean.
breathe the ocean air.
let the ocean swallow me up like my feelings.

Take me to the sea
when the rivers run dry.
Sit on the sand
and make our getaway:
a castle with assortments of shells.

The ocean is quick to take away
what it has given us.

Take me to the sea
and kiss me on the mouth.
Take me home.
(which is wherever you are
and you are very far from me.)

I sit on the beach,
the grains of sand caressing my skin,
hearing the ocean clap onto the shore–
It's my applause.

The sun kisses my face.
I close my eyes tightly,
feeling your hand on my cheek,
pressing my face to yours.
I smell the sunshine on your neck
and your saltwater sweat.

I am dreaming desperately
to find a piece of you that will linger
long enough to fool me.

I lay in the ocean,
the waves lapping at my body
all which are miniature kisses
sent from you.

paper rules our lives,
from the money we use to buy the things to help us live comfortably,
to the paper with our own name,
printed across the page.
telling us that we are bound to a number that is supposed to define our whole existence.
but the paper isn't what's wrong with the world.
it's the hands that it's been in.
and throughout the years we've been persecuting trees like it's their fault that such inanimate things can control us.
we don't bother to realize that it's our own personal will and mind that traps us.

i feel disgusting.
i feel the worst i have felt in a very long time.
i don't write in journals,
for i fear my minds self-destruction.

i feel pathetic.
more and more each day.
when i realize that i am the one who cannot stand to be without you.

maybe my mind is playing tricks on me.
making me think that you think that i don't matter.

it's just really hard only having one person you want to talk to all the time.
****. what the hell am i even saying.

and so the pain,
long gone as you had concluded,
was never gone at all.

it was only waiting
for the perfect moment
to tear you down.
again.

the charcoaled branches freeze in pain,
stiffened from the reddest flame.
the green glisten that hung before,
was nonexistent and no more.
the wild fire was meant to tame.

the tall oaks that stood years of life,
now crumbled from agony and strife.
their whispers are no longer found,
they shut their mouths and make no sound.
they begin to crawl out of their life.

their life is an endless cycle,
of life and birth, error and trial.
they shoot up from the dust of death,
with open lungs and exhausted breath.

their lives have started anew,
with the hope that we will too.
the lesson learned is sweet but short,
all life goes on through pain and hurt.

the rain taps on the window
slowly and then frantically.
as if to say, "don't give up on me too,
i'm right out here for you."

i think people are like rain.
we are frantically trying to make
everything and anything work.

as I roll into these sheets,
the arms of my lover
invisibly extend
to hold my tired bones
in an embrace
that will hold
until you return.

There are people
who don't know what it means
to be sensitive.

They make fun
of the fact that you feel
more deeply than they do.

I'm not a wimp.
I'm not a baby.
I'm not crying because someone
took my toy
and it's the second grade
all over again.

To tell someone
I don't feel anything
To pretend
That i'm okay
is to lie.

"Go run to your room
like always."
Avoiding conversation
because words boil in your mind
and you know
if you stay around
it's going to overflow.

Tell me something
more than insults.
Do more
than shove knives
down my throat.

i must confess,
i have never been very good at sewing.
but i will ***** my fingers
over and over
trying to fix you.

i don't write in a journal anymore.
you are my journal.
i speak my thoughts aloud to you,
like a confession.

i tell you all my sad thoughts,
my dying wishes,
my hopes,
and my dreams.
you don't speak in return.
you just hold my hand quietly next to me.

silently we sit in my sins,
pooling to the ground like blood from an open wound.

The bolt of lightening  touches the ground,
gently
quickly
sewing the world together again
with its static thread and mechanistic jut from the skies.

i think mother nature is trying to hold her pieces together,
even when everyone knows she's falling apart.

I want to find words
to write about you
in the friendliest way possible.

I've never cared this much.
You're like my brother.
All i want to do is see you happy
and listen to your problems
as the pitter-pattering of rain
taps on the metal of your truck.

It all makes sense now:
you are my spirit brother.
I have taken up the task as sister.
Counselor.

My heart doesn't squirm for you
in nervousness.
Your last minute poem was a pep talk-
one i never got from my brother.

I care about you in a funny way
that i've never cared about anyone before.

There is an odd sense of healing
listening to the groans of your truck
and hearing your voice.
Inquiring about my problems
with a curiousness i have never known.

You are the books you read, the films you watch, the music you listen to, the people you meet, the conversations you engage in.
You are what you take from these.
You are the sound of the ocean.
The fresh breath of air, the brightest light and the darkest corner.
You are a collective of every experience you have had in your life. You are every single second of every day.

So drown yourself in a sea of knowledge and existence.
Let the words run through your veins and let the colors fill your mind.