The irony of deafening silence in school hallways;
We sit parrellel, only staring at our shoes.
I hope to exchange some words, maybe finally tell you how i miss you.
I know that you are chasing other things, so I push the thought away.
Yet no matter how much I try to be okay by myself,
everytime you extend your hand to help me up, I know I'll take it

All it took was for my eyes to widen
Upon noticing her presence
like the sun knows the moon, we would be together for an eternity
Even if an eternity only meant a single moment in my life that would scar time forever
Still, I am in love

new year isn't really
new it's a new cycle of all the
old in the world
old rotations of earth-sun-moon-stars-
old fruits to sprout & die at the breath of hope
old places trodden over by
new feet, worn by the curious who are conquering their fears.
old sounds permeate my senses & I wonder at a
time when they meant something
old year is a crouching beast, he is standing tip-toed in a liminal space between
new & new; old new and freshly
new, ink on parchment,
signs & names sealed and permanently set
the world cycles & returns.
people walk the earth & hold their hearts out for me to inspect
nothing is new here
just gone.

i am not a cigarette
i will not give you a
multitude of cancers
your teeth and tongue and fingertips
will not be stained by and with me
your clothes will not hold my smoke
like your blackened lungs
in and out
i am not the tobacco you breathe
like the air is not good enough for you
i am so much worse than that

i am not a razor blade
i will not give you rows upon
rows of neat little cuts
i am not the reason your hand holds
steady enough to carve those
straight lines
like train tracks
into your skin
until they become your impenetrable armor
layers and layers
i am not your addiction
i am so much worse than that

i am not a bottle of pills
i will not give you a false sense
of medicated calm
or the hollow of a stomach empty feeling
when you are bent over the toilet
at four in the ******* morning
spewing your guts up and against
and all the way into
a white porcelain bowl
this whiteness will be more stark than
your skin when the sun does not touch it
brighter than the walls of the hospital
the sinks and the toilets and the shower stalls
and even the towels
this is the whitest white you will ever see
i am not the things you do that make you sick
i am so much worse than that

i am not the empty beer cans
along with the empty promises
of just one more
it’s always the same with you
but us humans are a pathetic bunch
destroying ourselves and then turning
to a story book deity to wash us of
our sins and wrong-doings
and make us whole and good and clean again
i have never been the beer on your breath
or the only thing in your stomach that day
i cannot make you drunk
i am not the reason why you get ****-faced
i am so much worse than that

i am none of these things
these vices and addictions
i am so much worse than those
i will fill your head with my breathe
the smell of day old sweat and self loathing
i will make you want to live ******
we will make half empty promises to
throw away our blades together
until my mom found mine
and i wondered where you disappeared off to
i will not make you puke
up anything but your lies and fears
i will wrap them in bubble-wrap and rub down
all their jagged edges until you can no longer
feel them jabbing into your lungs
and vocal cords
keeping you from asking for help
and oh baby
i can make you feel so much better
or worse than any type of alcohol ever can
i can get you drunk off my skin
the soft curves of my waist
and my pillowy thighs
i am worse than any story book
hero or villain or otherwise
because when the lights get turned on
and the closet gets checked for monsters
i do not go away
you think of my always and every day
my name is constantly on the tip of your tongue
and i know how you long to wrap your
arms around me and hold me close

you see i am worse than
all these things
because
i have a heart beat

he carries the forest
in the rolled up cuffs
of his black slacks

the finely creased lines
right down the middle of each leg
have now turned to wrinkles

the rocks and the twigs
deep puddles of rain
soak and scratch his ankles

what once were proud and powerful
wings now drag behind him
burned black from his shame of falling

there are holes in his shoes
but he harbors the promise of the sun
shining again between his bare toes

I just want you to know there’s going to be a day when everything is okay. There’s going to be a day where you’ll cry tears of joy to a sad song. There’s going to be a day where you won’t care about what people have said. There’s going to be days when you won’t hate getting out of bed. And I just want you to know to keep waking up, because that day could be sooner than you think.