I'm just sniffing your upper-lip
to feel what lies have begun to
perfume up your nose.
You'd think I'd be delirious-
what with all of those fumes
constantly shading me.

this is my
love letter
to me:

i am my
reason
for being.

i must remind myself:

you don't disappear
simply because you
close your eyes
and see nothing but
black.

you disappear when
you hold your breath
and everything shifts
into black.

death is in
the illusion of choice
and i am severed
within its guilt:

i must remind myself.
i won't disappear simply
because i close my eyes
and see nothing but black.

I wish I had someone to hold my hand and tell me exactly how the world works so that I wouldn't have to go on making so many false movements.

I need to stop. Writing everything down on a piece of paper hoping that it'll wake. Everything out of me because all I end up losing is. Nothing. And I am so tired of finding my words thick like fondue glued to eyes.

am I not nice enough

and we're giggling at the jokes we've
hit on the head and cracked as we watch
Captain Von Trapp sing songs about how
in all of the mischief he had caused as a child,
he must have done something good and as
Maria gives him a longing look,
Beck nudges the bulge of my arm, chuckles
and says to me, "all she's thinkin' is, you can
Cap'n my Von Trapp anytime Mr. Plummer."
hurling us back into a fit of whistling giggles
as raised as my penciled eyebrows and the new
heights his lungs has taken and through laughter
my eyes tear-up because in the mist of all the laughter
our mouths  fog against mirrors, I'm searching to find
what really is wrong with Maria-for her to settle for
such a stiff Trapp, such a character as Cap'n Von Trapp.