It's been a long time, hasn't it?
Since you actually let the past
actually sink in on you.
Since you let it come down
to salt streaks down your cheeks.
All you want to do is go back;
back in time.
To when you felt like,
you.


You want to roam the halls of the past.
To see what was left behind.
To see all the broken pieces.
The broken pieces of what could of been.
The broken pieces of your heart.


The doors of reliving barred you in.
You fight and fight,
but it's never good enough.
Because your young and a fool.
The present is all you have,
so make the most if it.


Memory Lane,
is nothing but an old ragged road.
It leads to nowhere but the past.
Don't be the coward that goes back.
You'll find nothing but simply,
memories.

Take her down to the city streets
And she'll follow the trail of leaves
Down to the trees,
Where she'll climb the branches until
She reaches the sky.

She'll jump onto the clouds  
and lay there until she splits into pieces
and rains down onto the towns
Where she's dreamt
Of sleeping.

You'll remember her down
By the rivers where the evergreens
Meet a golden sky
Because she told you to live in color.

And on the bridges where the cities meet
These rustic roads
You'll hear her whispers between the iron bars
Like magnets to a needle on a compass
And be confused on which way is home.

You'll follow the footsteps in the snow
To a door that's frozen shut,
And remember that her hands were always cold
When yours were always warm.


You had a heart when she did not.
Your pulses drove her home,
Where she hadn't been in quite sometime.

It's not like there was anything I could do.
Crying at their feet and begging for mercy would've left me more wounded then the days and months that had passed.
It's not like she would ever change.
She threw her life away to the countless days sitting in the bathroom with alcohol electrifying her veins,
turning her into the mother that I never used to know.
It's not like he actually tried anymore or understood.
He had me running in a pool of water expecting me to keep my head above the surface because he was too fed up to help me.
It's not like they even noticed.
That I was still a kid.
That as soon as my siblings beside me grew older and wiser,
I was expected to do just the same.
To maintain their level of intelligence and work.
It's not like it mattered that I was 14 when they got tired of raising me.
Of teaching me the ropes.
It's not like I was tired of holding up the weight on my shoulders,
maintaing my first job at 15.
It's not like I was fed up with their constant bickering and nagging at each other.
It's not like I didn't notice that he started looking at other women because she wasn't good enough.
Its not like she was good at hiding her misery behind those eyes that looked shattered and fragmented like pieces of a broken heart.
It's not like she wasn't a mother anymore.
It's like he wasn't a father anymore.
It's not like that at all.

I wish I could say that I want to keep trying,
But I've honestly had enough.
I've said to myself many times before
If I can't take it anymore,
It can't be that hard to let go.

Shouldn't it be that way?

Well it's not.

You, my friend, have abrasive hands
And they are all over me.
I don't understand how you could be so blind.
I've pushed you away so many times,
I'm surprised your not cemented face first into the pavement.

I can't stand your lectures.
You speak as if I need to grab
The pen off the table and document every word,
You believe your morals need to be the bible for the people we need to live by.
That would be a cold sick world.

Your hard headed look on life
darkens the light that wants to shine.
Pathetic really because you do it to yourself.

So this time, I'm going to push away
And I'm going to do it hard.

The difference from every other time,
You won't even see it coming.
Because you won't even know I've done it at all...
Until I'm gone.

Words don't do any justice
to the way I feel.
I could be so detailed
and so raw,
but it would still come out vague and untouching.

Words don't do any justice
to a broken heart.
Time is the enemy
that will help heal it,
so your left with fragmented poems
trying to describe how it felt
when you let go...
all you come up with is nothing.

Words don't do any justice
to cure a disease.
It will eat at her everyday
until she is nothing left
but white lips and a pale face-
a number to a growing list.
You'll only be able to say you love her,
but the words won't cure the disaster
that was created in her departure.

Words can only do justice
when it's over.
When the tears have crumbled the paper.
When the edges are curled
from twirling the ends waiting for
the perfect thing to say.

Words are beautiful and real.
Words are hard and often misunderstood.

5 steps to walk out of the room.
23 steps to make it to the front door.
2 steps to be one with the wind.
1 step to follow a dream.

5 times you fell.
23 times you didn't believe.
2 times you almost did.
1 time you gave up.

5 ways to handle this.
23 ways to make an excuse.
2 times to get rejected.
1 time to put it to sleep

31 roads and excuses to no where

I pushed you away because of what you did to me.
It wasn't your personal acts that ****** me of,
it was what the voices in my head would say whenever you were around.
A darker version of me erupted like lava in a volcano, intruding it's way out.
It took everything within me to keep it down whenever you were around.
You were always high and it did nefarious things to you and the people around.
It ruined your life, as it did mine.
Lethal weapons in a battle of your own.

So for four months I stayed away, remaining to myself. Keeping the wounds at a distance for as long as I could. I painted. I drew sketches. I wrote three chapters to my novel. I watched an animated movie that actually made me laugh.
I was stitching myself back together.

Then one night you came to me with promises in your words and wonders with your eyes. For a while there, I thought I saw hope.  Like stars in a cloudless sky.

You said you changed, but I knew that was a lie- you can only grow. You said that you haven't smoked- that you felt better and loved life just a little more.
I didn't want to believe that you were full of it- your ambition was floating in the air like pixie dust on a chilly summers night.

But of course you did.
You lied.
Just like before I left you and just like now.
You still speak to me as if I'm lower than you and you continue to paint cracked black paint on your face whenever you feel the slightest bit upset.
I try to help you, you push me away.

You broke your promises. You lie through your teeth. Its a been a long time since anything was actually good.

Looking back at it now, I pushed you away because of what you did to me.
It was the voices in my head.
The ones you put there.

I know once I walk away, I'm going to inevitably turn around and wonder where the time went.
And in that exact moment, I'm going to realize that it has been in front of me this whole entire time.
The sad truth is that once I take the first step forward after that realization, I'm going to break apart. Because I will be walking in the wrong direction- like I always have been.
But this day will be different. Because as soon as I take that step forward, there's no going back.
I'll take my seat, turn off my dreams and be like the rest.
Just somebody.

"If you have a goal without a plan, then it's just a goal. Without a plan... you will have nothing."

Maybe if I just sit here,
everything will fall together.
The places I'm meant to travel to
will somehow find its way to me.

Or those jobs or colleges I'm supposed to apply to,
will come to me without a call.

Maybe if I just sit here,
people will fall in love with me.
I will meet the one and
we will fight and argue but will love
eachother unconditionally.

Or maybe the rain will suddenly
be a friend to swim with
instead of drowning me,
burning me to nothing.

Maybe if I just sit here,
I'll suddenly understand how to live.
Without procrastination or avoidance.
I'll live with Fire and love and
shake the world with my touch.

But it won't happen and that's the worst part of it all.
Life doesn't wait for you
and it doesn't care if you can catch up.
Sometimes your left walking
with chains wrapped around your ankles
and a rope dipped in acid around your neck.
But the thing is,
You need to keep going.

As *painful as it might be
to lift up your leg that one last time
over the most pathetic obstacle there is,
just do it.
Because as much as that pain
will reverberate down your spine,
shackling your very floorboards...
It will surprisingly be worth it in the end.

I lost my mother a long time ago.
But you see, she is still breathing.
Still here.
But is she alive?

Bottles of wine stack up,
one by one,
on top of broken promises.

Pills are disappearing
but we all know
where they go.

"You call yourself a poet? A writer?" You said to me,
last night after I told you
how I feel.

So the poems I left for you,
I took away.
The book I've been working on,
I took away.

You said it four times.
The first time, I didn't actually believe you did.
The second time, my eyes ran cold.
The third time, I walked out the door.

The forth time, I realized you weren't
my mother.

Hope blazes within my veins,
between the broken and the unspoken.
Maybe something will change-
to finally go my way for once.

Too many nights I've sat
on this queen dreaming
of the day I'd finally live.
Hoping that the hands
of this beautiful thing
called life will fall into mine.

It has made my world
a darker place.
Creating savages of demons
clawing at me in the night.
I'd wake up from faces
of the enemies that can't be seen.

But it's different now.
There's this light
One I haven't seen in a while.
Filled with promises and adventure,
smells of roses and wet rain on a pavement.

I can almost touch it and right now I can tell you,
I'll run for years until I get there.
Because this is what I want.
I want to live before I get the chance to die.

Only so little answers
To the millions of questions
That we have running through our minds

I have all the time in the world
But no time to accomplish much of anything

I find that I'm running in circles and I always find myself back to the beginning

You turn down the light,
you know it's time to go to bed.
Because dreading on this page
doesn't seem so worth it now.

You close those green eyes,
arms wrapped around
the letter against your heart.
Your life flashes back
like a little story in your head.
Wondering what happened
to that little boy.

We'll never know.

Tuck yourself closer
into these sheets.
Let the moon rise,
let the stars come out
into another restless night.

Let your mind slip away
under the pillow.
Let 'em run,
let 'em scream,
let 'em be free.
Because you know your better off
somewhere other than here.

Tucked into blue sheets,
knowing your sane
but everybody thinks otherwise.
Let them think what they want.

The demons come knocking
on your door
dressed in white.
I know you want to
push them away,
you don't want to do this
anymore.

Waking up to lies and lies again,
The more they talk,
the more you start
believing them.

I wasn't a crayon
or a pen
or a marker
or a highlighter
or whatever it was you used me for
to fill in your empty spaces.

I wasn't your therapist
even though I'm studying to be one
even though I've always wanted to be one
even though everyone else used me as one
but you were supposed to be different-
even said you would be.

I wasn't mendable.
I'm no puppet
I'm no object of manipulation
I'm no tool for your satisfaction
yet you assumed I was palpable
and your hands were everywhere.

I'm human
not a product of your imagination.
I'm my own color,
my own healer.

I am myself,
the self in which you never knew.

The self that ran away from you.

In the Door of Chains,
the invisible bird crashed into the water.
Nothing but tears with traces of blood remains,
as the sea boils and boils growing hotter and hotter.

The Door of Chains
asked for your biggest secret.
It's the crimson inside of you down shower drains,
but you would never say that to a snickering bandit.

Door knobs gave no mercy
to the raging mind with a fiery tongue.
The stars proved to you you weren't worthy.
So, you woke up beside the bird and made the plunge.

In the Door of Chains, you don't lead the hallways.
The hallways lead you.

You can't just let go
Because it runs so much deeper than that
Much much deeper
And to dismiss it so easily
Means it didn't even exist at all
And that this pain that is so real
Is all my imagination
And I did all of this to myself
That the way you spoke to me
Was in a dream
And I didn't even want to wake up

Eight minutes.
Eight minutes, the journey of light from the sun to her windowsill.
It's here she'll sit, waiting in her velvet chair with a patience so still.
Fingers tap against the cold white marble, thinking about jumping.
But she's tried before, and hands grabbed her wings and pulled them back and made her feathers stuffing.
And then the Angel thought about the moon- it was created by imperfections.
The angel took a step back with a hearts new rhythm, already feeling the disconnections.
The light only ever blinded and burned what was beneath the halo of a righteous follower.
She kisses the darkness and the stars weren't hidden, they held her power.

Eight minutes.*
Eight minutes, the journey of light from the sun to her windowsill.
But she isn't home anymore with a chair to fill.
She gathered her folded wings and ran
And learned how to fly without the light, just because she can.

I don't seem do this well,
sitting at the table
pretending everything is alright.
I'd rather sit
in the corner of the bedroom
and listen to beautiful nothing
than listen to voices drip blood
on razor blade silence.

Promises have no meaning to them.
Absolutely none.
But I will give you
everything I've got
to have everything make since-
and then suddenly ill disappear.
                                                                                     Gone without a trace.

Life shouldn't be this busy
when I'm sitting on this floor
wondering what to do.
The answer is on my fingers
playing these strings...
                                                                                             *This is the one.

My moment is finally going to happen and I should be ecstatic.
I should be screaming at the top of my lungs that I'm finally going to be heard.
That what I've been working for is finally going to pay off.

But I'm not, and I don't think I can.

Im petrified, because the world is terrifying.
They're going to judge me or they're going to love me.
Okay, maybe I'm terrified in a petrifying world....
It all looks the same.
Feels the same.
Sounds the same.

But that's the most comforting aspect of it all.
That analogy will never change.
The way the world is is just how it is and there's nothing i can do about that.

But Me?
There's a lot of things that could change me.

I'm not the world.
But I sure do act like it,
Sunshine and raining.
Pulling tides and hurricanes.
But the world will always be the world.

And I have a horrible feeling I won't always be me.

A million times to say
goodbye in this life,
over and over again.

Empty rooms,
windowless pains
oh, I'm going insane.

I've lost the patience
to believe
when everything
crumbles at my feet.

Even in the night,
there's no end to the fight.

It just needs to rain.
For too long, the sky has shown itself. Naked. Dry. Emotionless.
Not a signal of weakness in the day,
no tears to rid in the night.

I just need to see it again.
To feel it again.
To smell it again.

The clouds need to come in
Not too much; not too dark.
Just enough for the earth to prove that it's human too.
The sun needs to be weak.
Just hanging off the horizon,
not at its brightest
but at its warmest.

And then it just needs to rain-
To cry;
Because I want to feel it too.
I want to be the water that hits the pavement
And I want to be a reflection of the world in that exact moment, joined in a puddle of human emotion.

It needs to rain because the sky is human too.
It needs to rain so I can feel a little blue.

In this moment the rain will wash everything away,
And from this view down where the houses don't change,
It is here that I'll stay.

Sometimes
I can smell in the air what used to be.
Some days, the wind carries it
And it treacherously finds its way to me.

The very moment it's ripped from me,
I'm left wounded and scratching at.
I fight the air with all my strength,
Screaming at it and beating at it
Because it fooled me.

Sometimes
the sunset is just right,
And just for a moment
it sends me home.

It's lethal and a weapon of mass destruction.
Because it slowly fades away
As if It never was
But burns me as it will forever last.

Sometimes
I feel whole again.
Sometimes
Things seem to be fitted in the right places.

Sometimes
I'm pathetic and actually believe things as beautiful as those are true.

“It was a struggle of fighting to be who you wanted me to be, and who I actually was. I knew what I wanted, but it wasn’t in the same way that you did. I couldn’t hide my heart, I couldn’t put it away for you. And don’t you dare tell me that you don’t have one, because I’ve seen it. Even if it was just for a flicker of a second— it was there. I won’t accept your initial word, because what you said didn’t add up to what you did to me. You told me you didn’t want anything, but you called me. You told me you didn’t want anything, but you touched me. You told me this and you told me that, but you kissed me and did everything with me and you mean to tell me it was only ever because you were bored?
The next time you invite someone in, as she sleeps beside your tired body, don’t pull her close and tell her to “come here”. Don’t kiss her on the neck as you reach for her hand and have your breath softly hum on her bare shoulder like a sweet wind. Don’t pull the sheets up and dream so peacefully beside her.
Don’t do anything, because she’ll never forget the sounds. The train crosses through the empty town around 2 a.m. every morning, and she will wake up every time. She will see you there and her heart will sink because you sleep so peacefully. Her heart will sink because you say things, but then you do things. And she will become whatever is you want her to be, just so she can be here in this moment again. She will do absolutely whatever it is to breathe you in just one more time.
Even if that means she becomes somebody else completely.
She will do it, and you won’t even notice.”*
-E.A.D

She wasn't good enough.
Everyone lied to her, said she was okay.
She thought that she could prove them greater...
that she was better than they perceived.

Day and night,
days to months,
she worked.
Through the pain and the exhaustion,
she tried.

The lies kept coming
and she fathomed their intention.

They didn't want to shut down her dreams.
All in the while, they were the ones
who killed that fire inside of her
all along.

Tuesday night,
she laid in bed and cried.

Until her nose was throbbing.
Until her breaths were cut short of oxygen.
Until she couldn't repress anymore.
Until the dream inside of her
went to bed.

Once it all left her body,
She rested her head on the pillow.
Face- emotionless.
Heart- emotionless.
Mind-Emotionless.

Life- Dreamless.

You said don't leave me tonight
And I did.
Not because it was late and your liver was filled with lust with a gitty mind.
It was because you broke the last string.
The last string that held this harp together so that we can get through these rough times in harmony.
You broke it.
And you broke all the other strings with the countless mistakes you made trying and trying to make me love you the way you love me.
I don't.
Love you that is.
I did in the beginning- it was new.
Like the smell of a new car,
or the feeling of the new jacket you just bought at American Eagle.
But soon the smell and the feeling fades.
It was like stepping into new territory with welcoming arms and walking down that path to a crowd of endless smiles.

But then the storms settled in.
The clouds wiping out the life in our eyes.
The rain poured down on our hearts, melting away all the beautiful memories.
The lightening bruising my tethering muscles.
The thunder rumbled our solid ground and cracks started forming around our feet.
Separating us into different worlds.
To different storms.
To different life.
But you didn't want that.
You fought against fate without a care.
For what the world wanted or worse.
For what I wanted.
You kept leaping over these intended cracks, finding the wrong way back to me.
You let the storm rage on not understanding why it keeps raining.
But you didn't realize that the control was in your hands.

I was the figure in the night that guided you, but only for a little while.
I wasn't meant to stay.
I didn't want to stay.
So you let the control run to your finger tips, letting the lightening be your strike to get me back.
You let the rain settle over me like an endless water fall, drowning me to no end.
You let the clouds linger around me, my greens eyes running paler by the day.
And you asked me
"Why are you so miserable?"
I said I don't know.
*But the truth is my dear, it was you and your endless need to control my movements and be the tar within my lungs drowning me in the storm.

The anger relishes in my blood,
i'm heating up like
an exploding volcano.

You throw these sticks and stones
at my bones
pushing me further day by day.

You've got this gene
that I can't fix.
You're using all the wrong medicines.

How hard is it to listen to me?
I'm screaming, "You're hurting me."

The plates of these mountains
fall apart
with every tipsy step you take.
The man is trying to find
his worth in you,
the kids are screaming...
you're not awake.

You heart is a ticking time bomb.
You're using all the wrong medicine's.

The idea of my capabilities differ from yours
Leading to a list of ***** chores.
I could slam my car door shut with my toes
So extensively it would smash the car windows.
I could dig holes in my back yard with my bare hands
To mine the world just to find where my heart stands.
I could grow my nails out to break through the skin over my chest
Just so I could scratch away this disgust inside to give this heart a rest.
I could keep my eyes wide open while I sleep at night
Because the shadows lurk around my throat, closing it tight.
I could do it. I know I can.
But I'll have to wash my hands after I'm done
and see the mess run down the sink one by one.

The first day was the worst day,
simply because that pointed smile invited me to play.
The time it took to count my wishes
was the time in which I knew I was going to need some stitches.
I talk to you, in the dead of night
when your not around and I just need to feel alright.
Yet you sit in your silence
while those golden eyes cut like diamonds.
You had a list, and I had mine-
It was the way in which you smiled...
the way in which you could lie as easily as the time.

It was the way in which I believed in you...
And how you disappeared into abyss of blue.

All of this and more without keeping my tongue tied
was the way in which a part of me had died.

Its like a forest,
this life, that is.
It goes on and on.
It all looks the same.
No matter where you go,
you'll be lost
if you don't know exactly where your heading.

Now imagine this.
A forest full of black trees.
A black sky.
Black ground.
But on that very ground is where you stand,
looking before you, the only white tree that seems to exist.

You stand there.
Just looking, afraid to take your eyes off off it.
Hesitant to run away, fearing that when you come back
-of if you can even find your way back-
it will be gone.

Night begins to turn up day
as you continue to linger to this tree.
The sun begins to shine,
giving an enchanting glow
to the beautiful creation in front of your eyes.

You can't help but stay.
And the thought that runs through your mind
is that this tree isn't just a masterpiece of mother nature,
its hope.

sometimes i wish i was back home, back in time. tucked in my purple galaxy sheets, upstairs in my twin size bed. back in a time where fireflies circled my room, with a night sky full of stars alight with possibilities. where familiar had a scent and it hugged my lunges around a camp fire. where it coated my hair in chlorine from night swimming on a summer’s night. where time had a feeling and it wasn’t so scary seeming so endless. where it beat in my heart like a song that i wouldn’t dream of hearing the end of it. home. i have scars of it on my skin from playing too rough in the backyard, with friends that made the air echo with kiddish laughter. i have pieces of it scattered in this house that doesn’t fit quite right. home. where every position of the sun hit every corner just right. where i grew with each vine. each root. each moment. i shared my adolescence with a blueprint built to a house that made itself a part of me. no fourth of july is right if it isn’t in my front yard, when the sun is just setting and the sparklers are being put out on the front porch. no christmas is christmas if I’m not watching the snow fall down between the street lamps of my neighborhood from the window in the front door, waiting for santa to give me what I’ve been good for all year. no autumn is autumn without the big tree in the backyard changing into these fire burning colors that rain ashes onto the grass, amazing me every time. no spring is spring without grams taking me to the back garden, showing me the respect roots need to grow.
home. once you leave it you will never get it back. sometimes you’ll find yourself on some random street in some random time catching a sliver of it. for no particular reason. the sun will align just right, and shine just enough, to remind you of what it used to be like. how life used to be before your home became somebody else’s. before the scars you now bare are not the kind built around laughter. before you got this hole in your chest where home used to fit. and everything that came with it.
holiday’s sing, but not in the tune i used to hear it in. flowers grow, but i lost respect for the roots that took my grams away with it. the forth of july will celebrate, and i’ll go along with it but it’ll never be the same.
home.
i’ll never stop missing it. no matter how long it’s been.

I said, "don't blame yourself." But I was in over my head. Your excuses were painted on the walls, I fell for them again.

I guess I should have seen it coming. Wanting to pack my bags, and walk out the door.

Different cities would be good; different walls to keep us separated.
Maybe we were better off, only seeing each other once in a while.

That's the worst part- that it came to this. Fragmented stares from across the room. You had this war with you inside; so you gave up the fight. As did I.

Different towns would be good, different roofs for us to call a home.
Maybe we were better off only saying I love you once in a while.

But I fought so hard for this, screamed for you to realize that the heart inside of you is pumping blood. That you were living, that you were real.

Then one night the fury came out. I saw your cold bitter stone
of a thing your supposed to call a heart.

Then I realized.
You were dead a long time ago.

It's not that I changed,
I just wasn't the same.

I just want to come home
to you clean.

One day your the one I need,
loving and the wall that holds me up.
The next day your a disappointment,
burning me with all that you can't be.

You used to be so good to me.
To everyone.

You shut down to alcohol
and drugs.
So you hid away.

You're a presence I can barely see.
A ghost when your in front of me,
a killer of the mind when your behind your walls.

Your battle has turned the house into a war.
Every single one of us on a different side.
I've been fighting for too long now.

We are waiting for your white flags,
to surrender to your own madness.

Until then, I have to wait here until you realize.
That your supposed to fight.
For me.
For your family.
For this life.

Or I can run.
Live the life I was meant to live
instead of wasting my time waiting
for your white flags.

Dear Old Friend,
I thought of you today,
but of course you'd never know.
I have words for you in eraser shavings
in notebooks between pages
I'll never put in an envelope to send to you.
Our promises quickly became
echoes in a ballroom where
we never learned how to dance.
Your voice faded in the way
a flower dies without the sun.
I lost you as you found your way.
I lost myself as you found another heart to hold.
My Old Friend,
that's all you'll ever be.
Dust upon ashes of the burned letters
that were supposed to mean something.
Because time is in numbers,
and you've already passed.

Just Tell Me-
"I will get away with you. I don't care about the lengths i'll have to run; I will make sure that I am with you."
                Just Tell Me-
                "This world is messed up. Everything in it; everything around it. Then I look at you and it all make sense: None of that matters."
                                  Just Tell Me-
                                 "I know you're afraid. I know you have been alone. Well just look up into my eyes. I promise you all of that will go away.
                                                                                               Just Tell Me-
                                                                                "It will be just you and me."

He hurt you.
                                   She broke you.
          They left you standing in the rain-
                                                            in undivided pain.


Story Of My Life.