why not instead of stacking red
cuts up on your arm and leg
you stack words in bleeding ink
words to live by, to make you think
press the pen tip to your skin
and do not lift up the sharp thing ever again

I hate having good days
because it means bad months are sure to follow

makeup is an addiction
you get addicted to the way it makes you look
the way it makes you feel
and just like a drug your brain gets used to having it
and whenever it is gone there are whispers
Ugly...ugly...you need me...
until you relent
to the drug that is makeup

I’m sorry I didn’t make a life with you
I’m more sorry that wasn’t even an option
because to be honest
I still miss
…

I don’t think I ever said
How much you meant to me.
My words were quiet, my actions small,
But my heart knew it all along.

Now that you’re gone, I hold on tight—
To the memories, the laughter, the light.
I wish I’d said it more back then,
My love for you, my dearest friend.

I fell for a poet
An expert with his words
By night a whisper,
By day unheard

I fell for a poet
A hazy, giggly dream
A little boy in a teenager's body
A life ripped at the seams

I fell for a poet
Who's writing love poems I'll never read
For someone else in his life,
Anyone but me.

I fell for a poet
So I'll wait, quiet as the sea
For this feeling to fade
Or for him to fall for me