I can't remember a time
That I didn't hear it or feel it calling out to me
Pulling me toward it.
Whatever it is it feels so natural
Like breathing.
I feel it in the autumn air
A sunset
A rip roaring fire across the sky
On a fall night
Where I stand
arms out
Hands Open
Head back
Barefoot in the sand
An ocean of time spread out in front of me
On the ***** of my feet
Savoring the feel of the wind in my hair
Laughing as I run down the beach
And I feel it
When the sky turns cobalt
And the stars show their face
Shining like jewels in the black abyss
And I feel it when Its raining
And I run outside
The thunder cracks across the sky
I feel it as the freezing water
empties across my body
In my eyelashes
Under my nails
Behind my knees
Down my hair and across my spine
The lightning flashes
For a moment
Time
Stops
And people don't see the broken girl I am
They don't see my empty heart
Or my empty hands
Or the nothingness I can offer to the world
What they do see Is a girl
with crazy hair like a halo of curls around my face
They see wild eyes and stretched out arms
An open mouth filling up with rainwater
Bare feet and pale skin
And they see the thing practically alive inside of me.
Its freedom
And its everything I long for as I become locked back up inside myself again.

In the dream I'm running
The beach is fogged
and every breath
Feels like I'm inhaling water,
I'm suffocating.
And I'm trying to save you.
I see your head just barley
bobbing up and down in the water
And I try to jump into the waves that have been home to me for as long as I can remember
But I'm glued to the spot.
Your head doesn't come up
And I collapse to my knees, sobbing
Because I know, that I know, that I know
I'm too late.
I wake up sweating, screaming
3:24
I roll over on instinct and open my voicemails,
It's a muscle memory now,
I've kept those voicemails since you died.
And I listen to your words
And I wonder why you did what you did
And I can almost always tell what your feeling
Your voice tells it all
The memories are there
And I cry for a little girl who thought
every family was like this
I dont know if I can forgive you
For leaving me mom-less by choice.
So as your talking lulls me to sleep
I dream again

The art of hating yourself
Is not easily achieved.
It takes motavation,
Words whispered across lunch rooms,
"Ugly, fat, stupid, freak"
It takes observation,
Hours staring at the pretty faces in the magazine,
Hours of trying hard to be something else
Hours feeling more lost then when you started.
It takes practice,
Feeling insecure as you walk down the hallway
Refusing food during the day,
doing crunches by night.
And of course it takes a certain type of person
For it to really take over the mind
A perfectionist
A person with a bad past or a uncertain future
A girl who blames herself
A girl who knows its her fault
If you are truly serious
about embarking on this journey,
This journey of unsatisfaction and secrecy,
Pushing people away and always, always
Craving,
Striving,
Searching,
Starving,
Needing,
That promise of perfection,
Take a class from the master
Or two
Or three
She's right here in town
The most dedicated and driven
The best of the best
She has cultivated
The Art of Hating herself
And she's the person I see in the mirror
Staring right back at me

To think
I thought of you
For hours on end
To think
I trusted you
Put my heart in your hands
To think
I opened up to you
My dark thoughts filtering in
To think
I missed you
There's no way you missed me too
And I knew I'd be alone
I just didn't think like this
And I knew you'd leave me
But who would've thought?
Who would've known?
I'd end up looking at your gravestone

I've lived my life 
In an eternity 
Of the inbetween 
Almost great 
But not good enough, 
Almost thin 
But not skinny enough 
Almost popular 
But not liked enough 
There, in my reach, 
In my sight, close enough to touch,taste, feel 
Is perfection 
The simplicity of the easy 
Of the perfect, 
of the complete 
So Here's to the in-betweens
Who have lived there lives
Being normal
But not good enough to be accepted.
I reach in front of me,
And I see a reflection of myself.
All I see is one million years of work,
Someone who will never be loved.
We are all made of love
And yet I cannot seem to love myself.
Others love me,
Some do not.
I am not the shy girl who hides in the corner
Or the loud funny one.
I am the calm,
Right before the storm;
The swaying of the trees
On an August morning;
I the clouds,
Covering the beautiful sunset.