backspace is always my best friend

It's all the same girl
with 20 different faces
it's an actress
a girl lost in her world
and in her mind
she skips through the days on dainty toes
with no place to go but home

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

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

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

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.

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

(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

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

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 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

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.

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

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

When you can communicate
With only "that look"
Something must be going right

When conversations can start with rants
And end with adventures
Something must be going right

When you can't remember
A time when you weren't friends
Something must be going right

When texts are serious
And nonsense all in one
Something must be going right

When the future is vast and scary
But you promise to never drift
Something must be going right

And that's what a best friend is for

She's a formless figure
With the sweetest laugh you have ever heard
She's a mute photograph
With the best pick-me-up lines ever uttered
She's a face on a screen that you've only seen twice
But you wait by the phone for her words just the same as if they we're coming through on a phone call

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

No plans for life
No plans for this poem

P is for pulse
racing pulse, pounding pulse
like the first time we laid in the grass
noses pressed together
a comfortable silence
and an awkward tangle of our hands
because we don't quite know how we fit together yet

Sometimes
quite is all you need
Silence
is as comforting
as the warmth
of one thousand voices
You don't need to speak
Quiet
says it all
Emotions flood
ebb and flow
with your eyes
locked on mine
Talk to me
in other ways
We can mumble
through the night
another night
For now words
are difficult
Quiet is all we need

I am what is known in the world of the unsubstantial....
as an almost me
an almost you?


are we both dreaming?
living in our heads?
cue existential crisis

It's a mystery
It's reality
god I hope it's reality

You've helped me grow up
You stood quietly in the background of my life
Silently fixing all my problems before I even knew they were there
I have always been
and will always be
a daddy's girl

everything clicks
in theory
concepts are logical
time is linear
the earth is a perfect sphere that travels in a perfect circle

we live on laws

Day 1
hours of driving
and winding cords to backseats
so I don't disconnect just yet

This place is strange
and sleep refuses my proposal
so hours away
you talk me into dreams

Day 2
wake to a whistling kettle

run down bars
and thrift store
beckon the coins from my pocket
bag the treasures

Scan the local stores
burn dinner... almost
card games are seeds for laughter
and I befriend sleep at 11

Day 3
Rise early
read
read
read
shower with water that is metallic in my nose
read
hours of driving to big(ger) cities
experiment with knobs and shutter speeds
$40 wasted to see bears in captivity
good lunch
bad cake
happy aniversary mom and dad
how guilty would I feel to reconnect right now?
Read
sleep early?
the gears in my head turning, fast

Children grow up
with jump ropes
barbie dolls
and suckers tangled in their hair

Children grow up
in daddy's shoes
and mommy's dresses
and Pixy Stix sugar in their laps

Children grow up
feeling the boom of fireworks
wading in the cold pool water
and pop rocks dancing on their tongue

Children grow up
with secrets kept from them
and told to them
and pockets filled with smarties wrappers as bribes

Children grow up
with dirt under their nails
and rain water soaking their clothes
and taffy between their teeth

Children grow up
with the wonders and horrors of the world
all on a sugar high
so they never learn the difference

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.

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 get a better high from you
than I ever could
off any drug
passing through my veins

The fog in my head
is greater than the effect
of the strongest concoction
of soda and *****

All I crave
is the sunshine
your hand in mine

Grow up and compromise
because you can't win every time
you can sure try
but sometimes you have to share the victory
and let me tell you that feels pretty great too

Grow up and shut up
not everyone is going to love you
and there is bound to be at least one person you hates you
for no particular reason
but fighting with words
behind their back
will only make you more angry

Grow up and listen
your opinion is fan-frickin'-tastic
but do you know you just regurgitated the quiet child's words
someone else may have the solution
and you would know that if you just took the time to hear it

Grow up and stop listening
find right and wrong for yourself
stop caring what the girl behind you or the boy down the hallway is saying
guess what, newsflash, it probably isn't about you!
develop selective hearing
so when people are being
flat
out
dumb
you can dance over their words

Grow up and grow up
it's fine to be a child
but don't be stuck in your childhood
there are better things ahead
if you just
compromise
shut up
listen
stop listening
you'll find your place
and it will feel amazing
and all those sickening words in the back of your head won't matter anymore

Grow up

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

How I know she didn't "love" me
(How I know she wasn't meant to be my lover)
She was cleaning off her books shelves
told me of all the stories that she loved
and how she was boxing them up
getting rid of them
and never once did she ask if I would keep some safe for her

She was picking paint colors for her bedroom
a room five minutes walking distance from mine
and never once did she ask me to come paint with her

She liked to be close
with everyone
in ways that she never once told me explicitly
baby, that's consent

She made lists of things that were important to her
to have in a lover
so I memorized how she takes her tea
but never once did she have tea with me

Never once did she call me
skype me
show up with a surprise
it was all texting
the rare date
she once let me borrow a book
so sure we have good memories too
but never once do I think back to her
and feel loved

I can tell you where we use to hide candy in the summer
Pick flowers in the spring
Throw snowballs in the winter
And rake leaves in the fall
I can tell you where you first hugged me
And I can tell you where we both fell apart
But put each other back together again
I can tell you when I knew I wanted to be with you forever
I can tell you, I can show you
But will you listen?
Will you come?

I like the fire
because some day
I'm going to burn the world down

Dear... well, me

when you read this again
many years will have passed
and i want you to laugh at the grammar
so you can see how much you have learned
from your mistakes
laugh at your diction
so you can see how much youve grown up

when you read this again
i hope you have fallen in love
and gotten your heart broken
danced with strangers
and danced with your best friend
kissed a girl youve only known for two hours
rescued a damsel in distress
just to wake up to a thank you note on your pillow in the morning
and then i hope you solve your problems
with too much ice cream
crying with your roommate
and one night stands with the cutie down the hall
and then i hope you find "the one"

when you read this again
youre going to be well-read
successful in all you do
and a marathon runner
or maybe just a coffee runner
either way you must remember to be happy
because that is exactly where you are suppose to be
dorm rooms, office jobs, baby steps, dreaming big

when you read this again
write another letter to yourself
tuck it in a shoe box for another five years
find it when you move to your own shabby apartment
read your scratchy words
look back at all the things youve done
call your best friend
call that damsel in distress
call the cutie that lived down the hall
then kiss your lover
show them these letters
laugh together
and know this is exactly where you are suppose to be

I sat on the floor of my closet. It was a summer when I still felt like a child, but wanted to be a grownup. I sat on the floor of my closet, resting on the clean carpet, sorting through old school memories. I can see the spot where I once spilled a bottle on glue and my teddy bear got stuck for a few days. That teddy bear is in the closet somewhere. Tipped over boxes flood half of my bedroom with yearbooks, photographs, study guides, and homework from elementary through middle school. Just barely a teenager the summer before sophomore year of high school, my head was full of big dreams to make a movie and go on road trips with friends who had just gotten their drivers licenses. These big adventures were still out of reach, but I was finding other adventures. Adventures through texting and what I thought was falling in love.


That day sitting on the floor of my closet, pretending I was too grown up to hold onto childhood toys and school papers, I was texting a girl. She had told me no more than two months before that she would be in Montana for the summer instead of five minutes from my home in Minnesota. We were friends at the time, but nothing special. We didn’t go to school together anymore, and I had never been to her house like you assume best friends do. I was mostly sad that she wouldn’t be around for the movie I wanted to make. I had no idea that when she left we would start texting almost constantly, and I would learn so much about myself that summer.


By July, we were a thing. Maybe not a dating thing or in-love thing because we were so many states apart and neither of us had told anyone else what we were up to. We were in high school, and I didn’t know how to talk about love and relationships yet. But we were a thing. A text from morning to night thing. A sending messages because something made us think of the other thing. A counting down the days to being in the same state again thing. This was my first relationship, so I didn’t really know what dating was like and especially not long-distance dating.

All I knew was that it was an amazing feeling to have someone I could tell everything to and plan a future with. It just happened that this person was also a girl.


I don’t remember much of the text message conversation that day on my closet floor except for the red wedding dress. I knew this girl wasn’t traditional, and she was gay so that was already pushing the boundaries of my teenage mind and our world at the time. When she told me that she wanted to get married in a red dress, I didn’t even question it. It was our normal. I thought she would be beautiful. The more we talked, the more I could see the vibrant red dress on her soft body, and I saw myself as slim and beautiful in a white dress.  


The funny part was that I don’t remember being the little girl that dreamed of a big wedding and a princess ball gown. I don’t remember planning out a dream wedding until I met someone that made me think about myself as a bride.


A red wedding dress was a new idea for me, but it must have been done somewhere before. The next logical step in my mind was assuming that this red wedding dress would be for our wedding someday. We would be high school sweethearts, childhood best friends separated after middle school but in love nonetheless. I could see myself as a beautiful bride in white, holding hands with my beautiful bride in red. We messaged about where she had seen red wedding dresses before. She never gave me a reason why she wanted one so bad, and I don’t think I ever asked. We both just agreed that that would be the way things were for us. I felt content in the deepest way, like nothing could make me feel like I was floating higher or ever bring me down again. I sat on the floor of my closet, firmly planted in a crisscross-applesauce position, but feeling like I was reaching for the sun and moon and clouds and stars.


I sat on the floor of my closet, making no progress on sorting through the boxes. I was distracted by the thought of weddings and learning how to fall in love. I thought this rush and attention was what falling in love was. Accepting the fact that my girlfriend wanted a red wedding dress was just part of my love story. Like the ones you hear in radio pop and country songs.



I thought falling in love meant never falling out of love.


I wonder how many other people she talked to about a red wedding dress.