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 like how things have changed
as we learn what to do
with our hands

Please know little girl
that everything is going to be okay
the lights will shine brighter
and the city will be bigger
so chase your dreams
where ever they may take you
whether it be spotlight or blackout
the pieces will come together
and one day you'll write in your journal how everything makes sense
you don't see it now
and you probably won't see it 5 years from now
but you are just where you're suppose to be
maybe you don't clasp your hands together by your bedside at night
look to the moon
and close your eyes
to speak to the greater of this world
but one day you'll find yourself kneeling before a god
praying, begging, pleading, thanking, laughing, living
and you'll know everything is going to be okay
little girl you are me
and you still have a lot of growing up to do

backspace is always my best friend

The fun of poetry
is the freedom
of verse
lines
words
rhymes
and most of all
you can open your heart
and write exactly what you want

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

I'm so
SICK
of you supporting everything
HE
does
while you won't even pay for the
ONE
activity I'm in

I'm so
TIRED
of you putting
HIM
in summer classes
when you didn't even let me
PRACTICE
at home for months

I'm so
SICK
of you telling
ME
how you are going to support
HIM
while I'm consistently average

HE HAS SO MUCH POTENTIAL
but I couldn't even study in my own home last night
HE HAS TO BRING HIS CELLO HOME
I haven't had my viola home in months
HE IS STILL IN THE STAGE OF WANTING TO PRACTICE
well maybe I want to be good at this too
HE COULD BE SO GOOD
well maybe I could too

I like fruity drinks
and sugary sweets
no wonder I'm so addicted to your lips

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

I have all these words in my head
and emotions resting heavy in my chest
phrases reach my tongue
but I swallow them
sentences click on the keys
only to be met with a pounding backspace

I want to preach my stories
and share this crazy journey
I just don't know how to say all of this yet

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

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

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.

No plans for life
No plans for this poem

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

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 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?

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.

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

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...

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