Sleek winding metal under my fingers
Squeaks at the tip of the frail hair
Subtle rattles of the pegs
Such a marvelous weapon I hold in my hands

Sweet cherry woods
Sings to me as I draw the bow like a
Sword
Swing, Pop, Rock, Classic
Such a marvelous weapon I hold in my hands

Stage lights make the details glitter
Sound resonates full and clear
Sharp and flat
Strong and proud
Such a marvelous weapon I hold in my hands

So I make this magic
Sad or joyous
Such a marvelous weapon I hold in my hands

hardly ever know this
abstract concept
perhaps that's just the way it's meant to be
perhaps we must seek our own greatness
yearning for a bigger role in life

That summer past,
And so much changed.
But sun still cast,
The same shadows.

It was inside,
Where life shifted.
I was allied.
With just myself.

Mind got tangled,
Thoughts all twisted.
Image mangled,
It just felt odd

Soon accepted,
And fell "in love".
Unexpected,
It just felt right.

the road is long
but the sky is calling
take my hand
and we'll go exploring
until the day we die

Someday,
we are going to be looking back at yearbooks,
notes we've written,
other cursed things from the high school years,
and we will find something,
that reminds us of that girl.
We are either going to laugh,
or cry,
or set the thing on fire.
And my god I hope it's all three.

I can't even count
the number of times
I have been told
"You're too nice"
"You're so sweet"

In the last 24 hours
I've even gotten the
"You're my favorite person"
and
"I admire you"

Now don't get me wrong
I'm not really complaining
But when you say
"You're too nice"
Six. Times. In. A. Row.
That's where I draw the line

F is is for friends and friendly

The dark smudges under my eyes
are chronic
from never sleeping quite right

The fat on my hips
is chronic
from not treating my body right

The cuts on my hand
are chronic
from being nervous

The contents of my head
are chronic
from never forgetting and worrying

I memorized the times of the last messages
And the words we had exchanged
I didn't find the irony in the last text until years later
You would have found it funny
But it's funny in such a morbid way
I bet you're still mad you can't text back
I bet you're still mad we didn't get to finish our duel
Someday we'll get to finish it
And I promise that I will win

(Do I even need to write this one? We all know who it's going to be about)

I kept the bracelets
And I kept the rose
Each the match to what you will have eternally

I watch your favorite shows
And I tell your old jokes
Because then it feels like you're around

I've written you letters
And visited you
But I know that won't bring you back

I hold on tight to the memories
And make friends with your friends
We will keep you alive forever

Someday when we meet again
And you call me Rika
We will share stories between laughter and tickles

We will be ninjas
And it will be just like what you "trained" me for
Except this time when I ask if you are dead you will spring back up, ready   for another round of running and silliness

Until then I will look back at pictures
And I will read the old messages
(Except for the ones that my phone auto deleted)
Everything will be okay... and we wear our pearls

Let's go back to the questions
    to not knowing each other but wanting to so badly
Let's go back to nonsense conversations
    to not having any pressure to be anything, do anything
Let's go back
      
But we're just friends now
     and that's okay because that's what we agreed on
But it still hurts
     and I think we can agree on that too
But I don't know where we stand
     and we walk a thin line of the boundaries we never talked about

I still love you
     just not in the same way
I still think you love me
     just not in the same way
I still believe that that summer was great
     just not what we expected it to be and not something we can go back to

All we really want back is a sense of normal
                     A sense of love

He sends me words, from 1,000 miles away, that make it seem like he knows my best friend better than I do

just because they're dating.

But he doesn't know what her favourite color was for the past 16 years of her life
Or how she behaved in elementary school.

He doesn't know the look she wore on the last days of school or the first days of school.

He doesn't know how she dances is plaid dresses with booming music in our school gym.

He doesn't know that there are things she doesn't tell him but will tell me.

He acts like he knows her better and maybe he does...

but oh he doesn't

He couldn't tell you how we played as children and how we have heart to hearts now.

But I, I could tell you that she keep secrets woven deep in her chest.

He probably doesn't know the school drama, the work drama, the family drama.

Because he isn't here.

So when he sends me messages from 1,000 miles away telling me there are feelings she doesn't tell people and secrets that she has.. I already know that.

Don't act like I don't know my best friend.

sometimes I shut down,
let my phone die,
go mute,
stare into the stars...

sometimes I just get sad,
pour my only energy out in ink,
look to blank walls,
crave your hands for comfort...

You should worry
when someone with ocd
tells you the pictures on the wall are crooked
and they don't care enough to fix it

Pretty girls
with tears in their eyes
need the world to love them just as much
as the pretty girls
with laughter in their eyes

Orchestras tuning
Muted voices around you after listening to loud music
Clicks that a guitar makes when you shift chords
Popping of metal bottle lids when you first open them
The excited buzz in a room before a big event
Fat rain drops hitting roofs and thin windows
Quaking aspen leaves
Laughter
Comfortable silence
Vocal only performances

With our heads held high
And our fists gripped, ready
We're gonna stand tall
And we're gonna march on

I want to be the pretty girl
The happy girl
The smart girl
The look-at-all-her-talent girl

But that's not the girl I am

I am clumsy with words,
But graceful on my feet.
I am clever,
But with only somethings and sometimes.
I am quiet,
But also loud.
(With all my thoughts shouting)

I am a walking contradiction.
And I can only hope that one day,
I will stumble into another contradiction.
And we will fill in the gaps,
Until we are whole.
And we can both be the pretty girl,
The happy girl,
The smart girl,
The look-at-all-that-talent girl...

There really is something magical
Something wonderful
Something powerful
About when the sweet little girl
Opens her mouth
And tell you to get your **** together.

I now know why I get invested in people.
People are interesting. Interesting in the ways they talk, the ways they step, the ways they carry their shoulders as others pass by. People are quirky. Quirky... but not explainable. We all grow up in the same ways, but with our own little twists that seem to twist us too. People are ordinary... but so very unique. You can generalize all you want, but you'll never be able to describe two people in the same way. Not accurately, at least.
I now know why I get invested in people.
Everything is my own little case study. In my brain that works like a psychologist and makes sense out of the abstract and the patterns of people... everyone is my own little case study. I don't take down data. I don't try to fix people. I don't choose who becomes a case study... because everyone does, and that's just the way my mind wraps itself around the world.
I want to understand people.

I've hit a wall
No..
I ran face first into it
With eyes wide open
Thinking I could make it move

Hello Ed
We meet again
With your dull brittle teeth
At my throat.
You coax me out
From hiding places
Just to smash me down.
You beat me
With words
And you drain me of life
All the while telling me to smile.
I just can't fight you off.
But with sword in hand
(In mine now
Not yours)
I win this battle once again
And come out better on the other side.

Hello Ed
We meet again
With your tongue of lies.
You sing to me sweet
With tricks of how to live
But I'm dying inside.
And can't you see
That this is a terrible way to be?
With a grip too tight
And claws too sharp
You latch onto my thighs
My hips
My mind.
But with sword in hand
I win this battle once again
And come out better on the other side.

Hello Ed
We meet again
But I cannot put up a fight.
I lay down my sword
And I lay down to die.
You shrunk me
To merely skin and bone
With thoughts not even mine.
An abusive relationship
With myself
That could only end so many ways.
You win.
And I can come out
          dead
on the other side.

I don't have long slender fingers...
                                       Will you still hold my hand?
I don't have pretty flowing hair...  
                                        Will you still run your gentle hands through it?
I don't have a thin beautiful face...
                                         Will you still kiss my check?
I don't have a size two waist...        
                                          Will you still wrap your arms around me?
I don't have all the pieces of my heart but I will still love you
                                           Will you still love me?

She dressed like Easter,
And Halloween all wrapped up in one.
She cooked like it was always Thanksgiving.
Her love was sweet like Valentine's,
And she tasted like Christmas.

Excitement ran through her like the Forth of July fireworks,
And the countdown of New Year's Eve.
She was the trickster of April Fools,
And the kind stranger of May Day.
         She Was My Holiday