I am so sad today
Most days
And you ask me why, every time
I wish you would stop doing that
I don't have a reason for this impeding dread
I don't have a reason I am afraid of my own skin
And the power it might not possess
I wish I could tell you a tragic back story instead
About childhood cancer or my dad walking out on me
About how the whole experience was traumatic and how this is just a flashback rearing its ugly head and that I'll be ok
In a day or two
But the fact of the matter is
That I am a small girl from a small Pennsylvania town
Who has more big privilege
Than she likes to admit
Who should have a smile bigger than the sun
According to her parents paycheck
And the number of times she's gotten cheesecake for her birthday  
But still she cries pathetically over doorbell rings and reflections in mirrors
And reflections in the minds
Of everyone else

And you say how sorry you are
I wish you would stop doing that too
I have enough self pity to pay for tuitions of all my friends who say
It's just how college works
It's hard
You're smart
You got this!!

Most nights I do not study
But writhe in pain on a bed that becomes a black hole, roping me down towards the hell I swore I'd gotten rid of.
The biting bleeding lips type of hell
I should have stopped biting my lip by now.

And you say you want to help
And more than anything
I wish you could
Free the inmate from the cage in her head

"Give me 5 minutes," I say
To catch myself
To own my ramped emotions
To collect the beast and put it in a box
To give birth to an imitation of who I think I could be
Who I think I should be
Someone the people want to see

Whose not anxious or worried
Or any of those dictating synonyms that describe my beast
The one who taunts me

And sometimes, even flaunts me
As a danger to my own wellbeing.
Who I try so desperately to wash away with a sea of tears
And shrink with reason and motivational videos
And fight by just "getting out there"
And by "not eating alone in my car after class ".

"So just give me 5," I say.
To pretend I'm ok.

He gingerly handles everything he seeks to touch
And I am a firecracker

He is considerate and insatiable to the smallest spec of someone with half a soul
And I fly around making messes of bookshelves// stealing peanut butter from parties
Searching for answers I'm certain I won't answer

He is gentle and ramped and appears to not notice when I stare at him
And I stare at him, quite a lot.

But then again, a silent admirer
Was never a definition that
Was so far out of our reach
At those parties
In those bookstores
When we both reached for the same thing
At the same time
That neither of us needed

Colliding hands
TV screen flashing
Two colors then
Two commercials later
One announcer proclaiming
"It all works out
In the End."

I think I'll always be in love with him
The way he punched my dashboard
(It needed a little decoration anyway)
And kept me up at night
Speeding through my head
It's romantic, telling someone they're a **** ya know.
I'll always love how he taught me to wear a lot of makeup
To cover the blotchiness of my swollen face
And the lip I couldn't stop biting
Yes, without him,
Where would my contour game be?
I'll always love the way he was crazy in love with me
Not queen B kind of crazy
Leave notes in your mailbox crazy
Make new numbers to get past the blocked ones
Crazy, how passion works huh?
They say a  man of the pen is hard to come by
I think I'll always love him
For making me take some personal time
And not talk to anyone
Even my dad on the car ride to school
My lovely, giving father
I don't think I could have lasted without that silence anyway.

Yes, I'll always love you
I know it's a wish come true
That I finally hate myself
More than you hate you

Temperament
Delicacy
I am no kind of flower
I am 2 storms raging against one another
Rising temperatures
By the simplest hours
Fighting lighting with thunder
Wishing I had it different
Different houses
Different mothers
Are we not all blessed to be alive?
Are we not all ****** to feel fury?
Raging against the enemy
The mirror
The pull of still water

We rage against ourselves.
Against the self we see in others
Disembodying respect
That we deserve by being alive
By being human
By realizing we are only so

Because we are scared
Of using ourselves for destruction
And not for power
Of blowing wind full of heavy weights
And breaking all the flowers

Delicacy
Temperament
Silent storms can carry peace.
Corn field after corn field
But loud storms can carry power
An eloquent power
That speaks to corn fields
And little girls like me
That we are undeniably
More

I love your mouth
How golden brown it looks
How sunlight inspires it to move

I think you've inspired me to believe in something as cryptic as love
Love without complication
Love that accepts my limitations
As little tiny grains of sand
That makes me your girl to love
Your best friend
To visit
Without hesitation.

The kind of life
Where one set of phones
Are left baking in the car
And two sets of feet
Are being lifted in the air
Swinging with the cling of the hammock
Laughing as he moves us
With his diligent set of hands
And his ability to make this easy

Because from my observation

This was never supposed to be easy
The getting along forever
And staying together
I was always supposed to be restless and complicated and confused
To what made me soar
But it's so easy

To watch the golden brownness of your mouth
Move
Like you're swallowing the clouds
Like each sigh you muster
Has become the wind
On a hammock
That has turned to sunlight

Sometimes I like to lock myself in my room for no reason. And cry for no reason in the room
And try to decide if simplistic **** like paper cups turned upside down on a trash can lid is art
And does it take effort. And thought. Meaning
Where's the meaning?
Cheating? Aren't we cheating ourselves
By sitting here on this
Pillow.


Sometimes, I feel a little out of control
Running my minds mouth
Dragging my own *** up the flagpole
And I struggle to find if other people feel my glory and the traffic in my brain
It's insane.
And does it take effort?
And thought?
And meaning.
Where's the meaning?
Cheating, aren't we cheating ourselves.
By sitting here on this,
Pillow

**** the realists
**** the cool kids
Some things are meant to be complicated
**** the pacifist
And the novelist
Can't I just go, back to sleep?

Effort and thought and meaning
cheating, aren't I cheating?
By getting off of this,
Bed
Dreaming,
Wishing everyone was dreaming
Of me