Everyone is a musician
I found god. This is god
Good Friday made better by sprawling empty city
And pure deafening sound
Being thrown to the ground
And treaded on
And picked back up again
By tender and caring hands.
Bruises remain and muscles ache for days
Ears ring.
The flash of light and pure raw sensation plagues my dreams
I fell in love so many times that night
In love with all the nameless faceless bodies
The bass so tangible it withdrew something from me
My breath?
And cold winter air breathed back into me
Crowds of tender lovers
Carry me to safety.
What is the opposite of sleep?
I found god
And the peace within chaos
Virginity restored by sin
It is a sin to feel so much at once
To feel full
It is a sin that I will never repent
It is a temptation that would bend the iron will of god
I did not doubt in that moment.
I did not doubt anything
Not even the rain.

Oh how I yearn
For evening gowns and gloves
For hats and corsets
Oh how I yearn
For typewriters and telegraphs
For carriages and train compartments
Oh how I yearn
For a time of enigmas
For a time of class.

Don't want Beatrice
We want a benediction
One final song to bring an end to this friction.
The volcano days with the finality of Pompeii
Return flesh that once was beige
Into a sullen shade of grey.
We were all born to die
So return to the ground and sing
We are all kings we are all kings we are all kings

“Dear Kitty-cat, black and pretty, tell us what to do in order to get away from thy mistress, the witch?”

Pity on the poor soul
Do your work with seeds of sympathy falling from your eyes
Stitch up the wounds of dead flesh
Beat on broken drums and sing in time with the willow branch
When the screams of the innocent drown out the howl of the wolf sing too

The birch tree lisped with its leaves, “Thou hast never put a simple thread over my branches and the little darlings adorned them with a pretty ribbon.”

Health teacher
blindly reading off the slides
of a powerpoint.
"Don't Have *** Kids!"
"Pregnancy"
"STD's"
"Abstinence"
Perhaps if they took a break
from the negativity.
Perhaps if they stood back
and realized that
gasp
preaching abstinence isn't the solution.
The only reason for the
"Pregnancy"
"STD's"
is that they don't teach us
how to practice *** safely.
They make no mention of
Condoms
Diaphragms
Pills
They tell you over and over again
that if you have ***
there will be children
there will be ***
there will be ******.
They make no mention of anything
other than the cis straight white vanilla ***
they leave the *******
off of all the diagrams of vaginas
out of fear that maybe a woman could
gasp
******!
Preposterous!
They preach victim blaming.
They tell the girls
to stay sober
to never put your drink down
long pants
turtlenecks
Instead of teaching the boys
to keep their erections in their pants.
to treat women like humans
that no means no
she is not an object
she did not "deserve it"
she didn't owe you anything.
Ignorance isn't bliss
and Abstinence isn't safety.

The last time that I
Was banished to the
Time Out Corner
It was because
I wouldn't read
I didn't want to read
You couldn't make me read.

Then I met a boy.
He had black messy hair
Bright green eyes
And a scar in the shape
Of a lightning bolt
On his forehead.
He was the boy who lived

Then I met a boy
He had ginger hair
Connect the dot freckles
And hand-me-down robes
He was a Weasley.

Then I met a girl
She had auburn hair
An eager intellect
And muggle parents
She was a mudblood

They hindered the dark lord
They slaughtered the basalisk
They rescued the prisoner
They witnessed the return
They battled the dark arts
They cried for the loss of their leader
They lost and they won.
And they moved on.

They are grown up now
I am out of the
Time Out Corner
And in the library
Constantly
Because I'm always reading
I always want to read
You can't make me stop reading

The boy
The boy
And the girl
Are grown up now.


And I am grown up too.

This poem is dedicated to the guys in my class
who talk about girls like they aren't worth more
than their vaginas.
This poem is dedicated to the *******
who say that anyone deserves
to get *****.
This poem is dedicated to the jocks
who look down on the outcasts
and exclude them.
This poem is dedicated to the girls
who call their peers *****
because of how they dress.
This poem is dedicated to the bigots
who preach homophobia
in the name of god
This poem is dedicated to the parents
who abuse and neglect the children
that they promised to love
This poem is dedicated to the misogynists
who can't seem to grasp the concept that
No means No
This poem is dedicated to the *******
who humiliate the people
who don't conform.
This poem is dedicated to the lowlifes
who beat down the ones
that they're supposed to love.
This poem is dedicated to everyone
who carries hate in their heart
where there should be love.

This poem is as follows:

*******.

It was a good day.
The day when she decided she was worth it.
She decided to talk to him.
She decided that she didn't care if he thought she was annoying as hell.
She was worth it.
He talked to her.
He smiled at her.
He kept watching her.
He stood too close to her
on purpose
Because it was a good day.
Because she was worth it.

Some say that love is like a clear pond
Our pond is full of goose ****
Some say love is like a seaside sunset
Our beach is covered in *******
Some say love is like music
Ours sounds like a constipated goat
Some say love is like a spring flower
Ours is an ugly ****.
Some say our love *****
But I'd beg to differ.

In the 8th grade
They told us to write about
What we believed
Others wrote about
Hope
Honor
Happiness
Hard work
I wrote about
Death
We had to read them
To the class
Everyone else
Was told
Good job
Well done
Nice work
I was told
That I was
Wrong.

In the 8th grade
They told us
To write an essay
About
Anything
Others wrote about
Cats
Music
Sports
Literature
I wrote about creationism
And why I thought
That it was stupid
We had to read them
To the class
Everyone else was told
Good job
Well done
Nice work
I was told
That I was
Wrong.

One time
I drew an anglerfish
To impress a boy.

It was beautiful
Black and white
With soulless eyes
And a skeletal frame cloaked in
Tendrils

I showed him the anglerfish
He said it was creepy
I called it stupid fish
Because that's what it had in common
With love

Stupid.

I'm jealous of Anna
Green with envy
But as they say
Green is not a creative color.
Why can't I be as pretty as she is
Why can't the boys fawn over me
Why can't I play
Three different instruments
Why can't I speak five languages
Three of which fluently
Why can't I be good at
Volleyball, Tennis, and Running
Why can't I look as good
In a bikini as she does
Why can't I realize
That the truth is
Anna is jealous of me too

Sometimes
when I think too hard,
my responsibilities
crash over me like waves
on an expanse of stormy sea
pulling me down under
an ocean of panic.
My thoughts turn against me
and the only thing
inside my hollow head
is doubt.
I can't drag myself away from
the lines i have to learn
the homework i have to do
what if my friends don't really like me
is my mum angry at me
what do i want to do with my life
no college will ever accept me
i'm not smart enough
i'll starve in the gutter.
I want to ******* die.
I lay there
paralyzed
with fear and anger
an emptiness that I can't control.
I feel like something is gnawing at me.
I know what i have to do
but I can't make myself do it
because no matter what i do
there's always more
living to be done
more responsibilities
and it's a vicious cycle
that I can't escape
and i'm drowning on air.
So i cry.
And I pray for death.

With spiteful words
they chase her down the hall
with cruel intentions
their feet are more nimble than hers
so she asks for mercy
but the answer is no.

With sputtered words
she tries to convey emotions to him
that she herself doesn't understand
fear tints her vision
so she asks for love
but the answer is no.

With solemn words
printed on white paper
she tries to explain
why she can't carry on
so she asks for forgiveness
how could they say no.

It's ironic that everything is so alive
just before everything dies.
the red orange golden leaves stutter in the breeze
as if waving goodbye.
The sun glances down some mornings,
but it's fleeting
for then the rain comes.
it is a time of bon fires
and pumpkin spiced everything.
when comforters crawl out of closets
draped over saggy shoulders.
When children bury themselves under the leaves
like animals
and spring from the earth
like bears.
Autumn is upon us for but a moment
a fleeting glimmer of sunlight
before we tuck into winter.

Everywhere I look
another face strikes my fancy
another fantastic body
another dazzling wit
another amazing intellect.
Everywhere I look
I fall in love with
another great ***
another perfect sense of humor
another caring heart
another love interest.
Everywhere I look
I fall in love
with more beautiful people.

I hang paper cranes
Above my head
So I can fly in my dreams
The map of the world
That hangs on my wall
Is a canvas for me to paint
The Shakespeare quote
Reminds me of where I'm going
Baby pictures remind me
Of where I've been
My blankets are my cocoon
I'm a butterfly
I lie in the dark
Spinning poetry like a web
Popcorn feeds my stomach
Paperback novels feed my mind
My dressing gown hangs on the door
My walls are trimmed with fairy lights
A tv sits atop a dresser
Like a skeleton, it lay unwatched
I'd prefer to dream of lilac baths
Than force my brain to rot.
Under my bed there's dust bunnies
And monsters
And in the dark they creak
But I'm sleeping with my paper cranes
And flying in my dreams.

Two years ago
I asked my mother
for a bikini.
She said she wasn't comfortable
with me showing so much skin.
Two months later
my skinny little sister
laid on a towel
in a turquoise bikini.
I laid on a towel
in a long sleeve sun shirt
that my mother wouldn't let me take off.

One year ago
I asked my mother
for a bikini.
With reluctance
she gave me her
floral print bikini
from when she was my age.
Two months later
she took it back
claiming that she wasn't comfortable
with me showing so much skin.
So she gave it to my skinny little sister.

This year
I will not ask my mother
for a bikini.
I will buy one
and I don't care if my mother
says that she's not comfortable
with me showing so much skin.
I will show as much of my
imperfect skin
as I want.
Because my skinny little sister
isn't the only one
who has a bikini body.

One day
when I was small
so very small
I got sad
so I bit myself
Hard
until blood bubbled
to the surface
of my skin.
I cried
I put Strawberry Shortcake bandaids
on my self inflicted wound.
I didn't know that it wouldn't
be the last time
that I bled at my own hand.
I still don't know why
sometimes
pain feels better than nothing.
So I choose pain.

Blood
A faint trail
Across a dainty wrist
To express emotions that
Cannot be expresses in words.

Blood
A wild gush
Of a wound freshly
Cut. Carved into skin with
The intent to harm. Maim. ****

Blood
Staining the
Grey pavement
A dark maroon color
As it drains from life into

Death.

When you see my book
On your shelf
Think of me
And return it.
I lent it to you
It wasn't a gift.

When I walk down
The stairs and see
Fresh strawberries
And pineapple
And eggs cooking
On the stove
And bread in the toaster
I smile
Because the only
Reason that I
Get out of bed
Before 2:30
Is breakfast.

My butterfly windchimes
Mean nothing to me
But it's still pretty nice that they're
There

At camp
There was a woods
And lots and lots of free time.
We would take walks
Lots and lots of walks

We found trails
They were made of gravel
I forgot my shoes.
Emily carried me
On her back
Down the trails.

We found an island
The island had many goats.
The island had a bridge
The bridge had a gate
Lindsay climbed over the top
Noah climbed on the bottom
Nearly wading in the river
I tried to climb the fence
I couldn't climb the fence
I fell off the fence
And ripped my new khaki shorts
All the way up to the waistband
Abe asked to see
I didn't know why.

We found a dock
Some of the boards were missing
So we ran up and down
Up and down
Up and down
Jumping over the gaps
Where the boards broke.

We found a water park
Closed for fifteen years
We tried to sneak in
In the dark
But the door was locked
They pried the boards back
And I crawled through
Alone in the dark
I found the door
And let them in.

We ran from the water park
When our imaginations
Heard ghosts
Abe ran into a fence
He got cut
Noah ran into a fence
Elijah ran into a fence
JJ ran into a fence
All the same fence
They didn't heed my warnings.

We found Noah
Running through the courtyard
With an arm full of bed sheets
And a bare chest
He climbed the tree
And left the bed sheets
Strung up in the branches
Tristan pretended to think
That it was funny
When he fished his blankets
Out of the trees.

We found friendship
In five days
In the middle of Amish country

At camp
There was a woods
And lots and lots of free time.
We would take walks
Lots and lots of walks

Giacomo Casanova
**** of the 18th century
But he loved the person
More than the *****
'Spoiling' virgins
As if it was one sided.
And not bothering to suppress his
Love
For both human
Anatomy and the
Human heart
When he was done
With you, there was no break up
No casual washing of hands.
He would hook you up
with some rich bloke
He didn't throw you
Into the trash
He threw you through
The top window of
The palace
Where's my Casanova?
Why can't I be
******
And
Loved
Why would I be the
****
When it takes two to
make love.

A culture of addiction and ignorance
Pushing poppies instead of daisies
The only light snakes around the corners
Of carefully drawn blinds.
Red eyes.
Tongue tied and silent
A supernova behind the eyes of an innocent
The memories of masochism and open hands
Fingers pressed together
Cruel intentions caked in the creases of palms.
They haunt the night time
Is it night time?
Mildew.
The smell of apathy with a hint of persistence
Which sets in once the blackness starts to seem periwinkle
And geography is etched into ****** finger tips
And skinned knees.
Every penny flowing free
Into the crook of your elbow.
Anything to silence. Anything to feel.
Hope and healing are out of reach
But the apples still shine in your eyes when you dream
And then everything seems a little closer.

I am pansexual
There I said it

I am pansexual
I love all of the pans
Every single one of them
I don't care if they are
Shining stainless steel
Or rusty and burnt
I don't care if you use them
To cook
Sizzling bacon
Or extra firm tofu
I don't care if you put them
In the cabinet
Or leave it on the stove
I don't care if your pan
Is really
More like a ***
Or doesn't have a handle
I don't care if you
Put a lid on it
Or leave it on an slow open simmer
I don't care how big
Your pan is
Or if it's better suited for soup
I don't care if your pan is
Really just more decorative
And you decide not to use it.
I don't care how may times
You've cooked in your pan
Or if you've never cooked at all

I just want to say that
I love pans
And I am pansexual.

Found in the turrets
Of junk at a yard sale
When I was too young to
Remember
White cowboy boots
Just my size
I wore them every day
Every girlish dress was paired
With my tiny white
Cowboy boots
I ran
Jumped
Danced
In my white cowboy boots
Until one day
My feet were no longer
So small.
So I hid them away
In my wardrobe
And took to wearing jeans
Knowing in
The back of my mind
That one day
My child will
Run
Jump
Dance
In those
Tiny white Cowboy boots

You are like crack.
I'm addicted to being around you
The thought of your kiss
Your touch
Makes me smile and blush
And dream of wedded bliss in vain.
I am young
My love is futile.
Every ivory dream
Ends in unrequited love.
Every schoolyard crush
Ends in obsession.
When will I see you again?
A single hour is never enough.
A single day leaves me hungry.
No matter how long
It's never long enough.
I am addicted to you
And you don't even suspect it.

When i was younger
I loved to color.
At my grandparent's house
there was a shoebox
full of crayons.
I am older now.
So are my grandparents.
I got the crayons from the closet
because I still love to color.
With a satisfied smile
my grandfather turned to me
and said "you remembered where the crayons were"

Shy girl
Hiding behind
Thick lenses
Dark frames

Shy girl
Hiding behind
Thick books
Long pages

A boy
Across the room
Fruitful glances
Stuttered glances

The boy
Across the room
Likes her back

I refuse to take responsibility for my actions
and admit that this is my fault.
I blame him.
I call him a *******
for enticing me.
Yet I am the one who spoke that dangerous word
Love.
****, I can't deal with it
the thought of him
of losing him
because he's not like anybody i've met before.
Nobody else
is so magnificent.
There will be others
but no other like him.
I can't deal with the thought of him
leaving.
I can't deal with the fact
that he might love someone else.
The fact that he doesn't love me
even when I use the most dangerous word
in the human vocabulary.
I said Love
and I meant it
even though I wish i could take it back
because he's leaving
and it hurts
so i refuse to take responsibility
for the dangerous word that bubbled across my lips.
Love.

6:30
Glaring
Red
Angry numbers
Glaring
Red
Screeching sound
Hit snooze
9 times
Spread my arms
And fall forward
Into deranged images
Of the prefrontal cortex
Into dreams
Clouds
Flying
Dying right before waking up
7:30
Glaring
Red
Angry
Morning.

Dreaming is like swimming in the most beautiful sea
And waking up is like drowning.

I lay my head down on a pillow
soft sheets, covered in little baubles from
all of the washings they have endured.  
My eyes drift closed
slowly.
When you are tired, your eyes burn
dreams fill them up to the brim like tears
an eight hour play awaiting an audience.
The remnants of fairy lights and starry skies
leave an imprint on my eyelids
fading into darkness.
Flashing images, projected in my mind.
No new faces, the brain isn't that powerful
everything is seen, very little is remembered
outside of
dreams.
When i wake up, i am very rarely blessed
with memories of my slumber.
Deleted synapses
never recovered
lost to sleep
and dreaming.

When you are angry
do not slit your wrists
Slit something that deserves it
like rotten pumpkins
tomatoes that refuse to turn red
burnt toast
ungrateful pieces of blank paper
clay embodiments of your enemies.

When you are happy
bottle it up.
Spread your love
but don't spread yourself too thin.
Save some for yourself
for when you feel like
a pile of petrified dog **** on a sidewalk.
And smile
because you're beautiful.

When you feel empty
scream
cry
punch
run
put out everything you've got.
Listen to music that's full of passion
splatter canvasses with color
scream words that
would make your parents angry
and sailors proud.
Make yourself feel alive.

When you feel sad
read a happy book
listen to happy music
watch a happy movie.
Keep moving forward
because you're mistakes are arbitrary
and anyone who hurt you
is a pile of petrified dog **** on a sidewalk
and you are walking away.

When you feel anxious
control your breathing.
lie down
close your eyes
listen to calming noises
wash your hands in warm water
with soap that smells just right
until you feel better.
Please feel better.

When you feel in love
let them know.
Waste no time trying to be chased
trying to be coy.
Tell them you love them
because life is too **** short
to have regrets.

When you feel
rejoyce.
because
the world is more beautiful
when it is tainted
with your feelings.

I feel like i should feel sad
but instead i feel nothing.
I feel like everyone around me is leaving
so i should feel sad
but instead i feel nothing.
I feel nothing
i feel like i should feel pain
but i feel nothing.
I feel empty
and that feels like ****
so i keep busy so i can feel full.
I feel unfulfilled so i fill myself
with excess calories
and then i feel fat.
I feel so many things
but nothing ever feels strong enough.
I feel like i need to escape
I feel like i don't have enough feelings
and sometimes i feel like i have too many to comprehend
i can't stand the way I feel
the way i don't feel.

I am a woman.
I am a feminist.
I bleed out of my ****** on a semi-monthly basis
Unless of course there is a fetus
hiding in my ******.
This is a proven fact.
See i'm not particularly fond of the fact
that women were treated
as property.
That virginity is valued over education.
That I need to have a ***** to deserve equal pay.
That I can't show skin because it's 'distracting'
when ******* are sagging their pants to their knees.
That children blindly sing the lyrics to Blurred Lines
without thinking about what it means.
I believe that women are beautiful without photoshop
and failure to recognize the word stop should mean
Go Directly To Jail and do not pass go.
I am a woman
I am a feminist
and that doesn't mean that I can't play football
or kick your *** at Halo.
If I sleep around I'm not a ****.
There is no guide to "how to make her ****"
I am a woman
I am a feminist.
I do not believe in gender roles
I believe in dinner rolls
and counting carbs is cramping my style.
I am worth more than my ******.
Beauty is not a dress size.
Lesbian is more than fetish ****.
A single mother is a warrior not a *****.
I am a woman
I am a feminist
Do not dismiss my protest for angry rants.
The baggage between my legs shouldn't drag me down
I am a woman
I am a feminist
What happened to equality?
Does it not apply to me
Because
I am a woman?

Rush and heat
Energy crackles in the air like radio static
Radio silence
People stood in rows staring in awe
Lights
Glitter rain, like the movies
Like kissing in the rain
Running in the rain
The hookup the breakup the makeup
The ***
The sparks are tangible tasteable tangy tangerine terrific terrifying
Electrick
Energy
Thrilling
Being high without being intoxicated
I'm intoxicated by you
High on you
High on being with you around you inside you
Feeling you as close as you can be to me
I can feel the fireworks welling up inside me
The sparks on your tongue ignite me
Off I go
As high as a cloud
Into infinity leaving trails of cosmic dust behind me
Shining like a star running away
The smoke that lingers afterwards is part of me too
The exhale after the arch backed clutching
Release like fire
With fire comes smoke
Passion
Sparks linger in your eyes
In my eyes in our eyes
I want to keep them to myself
I keep my eyes shut to lock in the feelings
Commit them to memory
Burn the synapses like fire trails to gunpowder
BANG
I explode but you hold me together
My guts rattle
Like Fourth of July Fifth of November
I want to feel like this
Feel you like this
The sonic vibration in every quantum of me
You make me full like a universe full of stars
Glittering in the palms of children in the summer
Looking up at the sky
Seeing explosions
Some beautiful things can't be explained
But we still try
Try so hard to be independent
All I need is people
All I want to need is myself
Sleep like a starfish or a fetus
I wasn't ready for the boom
I never am
But it comes
It ****.

Heat
Electricity and emotions
Unconscious and subconscious
Predominant and primarily dominant
Dilated
Hands like claws with fists full of skin and sheet and shirt
Unable to discern
Just feel
Waves
Rocking into the shore with passion and power
No mind to silent sediment
Relentless currents pulling everything
Waves tumble head over heels but never stop
Lightning strikes
But then fades away again
Fleeting
Never constant but dangerous and beautiful
No names, just feelings, no emotions, just feelings and flesh
Red snow
Reflection? Or animosity
Animalistic atrocity
Boom
Like lightning but prettier
Stay after to admire
Sink in and do it again every year
Write about it think about it
Sing
Raise hearts to god in sinful praise
With handfuls of lover's grace
Remind me of the days when I didn't regret the moves I make
Fill me up so I can forget
For a while
Cosmic
Electrick
Charged with emotion
Direction unknown so let it go
Give it to someone else
The faceless nameless midnight confidants
Express yourself

There are flowers in my garden.
Hyacinth
Tulip
Verbena
Daffodils.
Not enough
to make a bouquet
but there will be soon.

There are more important things
Than the color of their eyes
And the missing puzzle piece that you feel in your heart
There is something brewing
Inside of us
The pent up rage
The bottled up frustration
Lent to us by the oppression
We face every day
So we ring it in with bells and bullhorns
And pray for the day when love is legal
And free speech is free
And middle schools are free from misoginy
And the police protect my rights based on laws and not skin tone
The balance has been thrown
The dynamics swaying in the breeze
It's well past time for a 180 degree turn
We'll let society burn
And ring in a new age
With bullhorns and bells
And we'll fight for our ******* freedom.

Six
Seven
Eight
High schoolers.
A cloudy sky above them
Confined into a corner
Painted on pavement.
A playground ball
Bouncing between them
As the joke and laugh
And yearn
For the days
When we still had recess.

Life is frail and futile.
Life is an accessory
To a universe
Independant of our actions
A human life is but a second.
That ends before you reach the end
Of a sentence.
And is over when you least expec-

oh full length mirror
when did it become a sin
to gaze through you
and admire what i see.

It's funny isn't it
Life.
It's funny isn't it,
when your friends talk behind your back
when they laugh at inside jokes
you aren't privy to.
Hilarious.
It's funny isn't it
when people are nice to you.
Especially when it's obvious
that it's not genuine.
Pity friendship
what a crackup.
It's even funnier
when people detest you
bully you
beat you down
tear you up
rip into you
with fists or words.
Lol
It's funny isn't it
when you can see disappointment
in the eyes of those you love the most.
When you need
acceptance and forgiveness
but aren't desperate enough
to beg.
it's funny.
So **** funny.
the paranoia that begins to set in
how every word
behind backs that are turned
becomes a rumor.
That feeling is just so funny.
It's funny isn't it
how you can see every flaw
in yourself under their guidance.
That self loathing
self hatred.
That awe inspiring disappointment.
Not good enough
Never good enough.
Not for me you anyone
Isn't is just so funny
to think about all the ways to die
all the ways that you could
should
want to.
Isn't it funny
to see faint trails grow
more and more red
when you draw a blade to your skin.
Isn't it funny
how you can't explain why
the pain and the scars
make it feel better
somehow.
Isn't it so funny
how miserable you've become
by someone elses hand.
Isn't it funny
how they tell you that
if you ignore it
it will all go away.
Isn't it funny
how ignorance isn't bliss
it is hell.
Isn't it funny
how it messes with your mind.
Isn't it funny
how they can get to you.
Isn't it funny
how everyone just stands by
and watches it happen.
It isn't funny
but they're laughing anyway
so you laugh along
and pretend that it doesn't hurt.

An open letter
To all the pieces of ****
Who use gay as an insult.
You really need to stop
Pretending that you are better
Than someone else
Because you prefer to
Put your **** in a different place.
You really need to stop
Pretending that being straight
Makes you more worthwhile.
You really need to stop
Pretending that "no ****"
Is an acceptable thing to say
Ever.
You really need to stop
Pretending that you're not afraid
That a man will look at you
The same way you look at women
You really need to stop.

Gay means happy
A ****** is a bundle of sticks
And you are homophobic.

Spring crashes over us
Like a tidal wave
Summer drifts in
Like a river
Fall comes far to quickly
And leaves far too soon
Leaving pale winter
In it's wake.
Season go on
And we lie
Together
Muffled beneath dirt
Shoved in a Woden box
Faces ringed with decay
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
And the seasons go on.
We roam the earth
As ghosts
Waking spirits
Invisible
Simply another tear
Of life
Another bridge to cross.
We lie together
For the rest of time
We walk the earth as ghosts
And the seasons go on.
Snow and leaves fall
Flowers bloom and children
Bask in the hot glow of the sun
Over an unmarked grave
A plot of land
Absent of dedication
Forgotten
We lie together
And the seasons go on.

I see you
Standing there.
She flanks your side
Like a dog
Like the ***** that she is
She's practically swinging
From your arm
And you don't even notice her
Or at least you pretend not to.
I'm not nearly so bold
As to stand by you
Let you make me look stout
Compared to your wondrous physique
I grapple for your attention
With subtle glances
Feeling blessed if I catch your eye
Even just once.
She grapples for your attention
With her words
With her body.
She demands to be noticed
So you notice her
But I'm too **** afraid to be assertive.
You tie my stomach in knots
And the thought of you
Plucks at my heart strings
Like your long lean fingers
Across your violin.
Sometimes I can feel your gaze linger
And I know that her greedy eyes
Burn holes in my head.
Her passive-aggresive "hello"
Is bittersweet.
I'm only just beginning to realize
That the way she flanks you
Like a dog
And swings from your arm.
She puts herself below you.
Instead of noticing,
You trip over her presence
Whilst she trips over her words.
And when she speaks new languages
To try and impress you
Plays new instruments
To try and obsess you
She is not a threat to me.
Because I'm just now noticing
The subtle glances in my direction
How you always turn
To make sure I'm laughing
When you make a joke
How the fact that you
Stood just barely to close
When there was a world of open space
Was hardly an accident.
And when you did
I felt your fingers
Brush across the back of my hand
Like that of a ghost
Barely there.
And so now
I am certain.
I see you
Standing there.
She flanks your side
Like a dog
Like the ***** that she is
She's practically swinging
From your arm
And you don't even notice her
Because you're too busy
Admiring something
Far finer.

Oh youthful innocence
Why did you leave me so fast.
I feel like adolescence
Was ****** upon me
Like a straight jacket
No room for mistakes.
Scoliosis from book bags
Full of homework
Sagging with responsibility.
Late nights spent with red eyes
And tissue boxes
Letting stress seep out through tears
But only when no one is watching
I am a pillar of strength.
I yearn for days of Lego towers
Barbie dolls and dress up.
Why can't I stay in neverland
Responsibilities perpetually
To far off in the distance
To concern me.
I want to not care so bad
But that is not an option.
So I press on and move forward.
I keep on growing up
And resenting it.

Take a moment
and look at your hands.
look at the lines
more creases and folds than a dismantled paper airplane
you can look into hands and see the future
those creases read like a map
and in the distance between your fingers lies a novel.
With fingers intertwined you can pray
and you can love.
you can beckon melodies from the belly of pianos
and scrawl poetry on shredded napkins
you can punch and scratch and fight
you can revolt
you can deliver Shakespeare
you can place blame
and you can nurture
you can wave hello
and you can wave goodbye
but remember they are the same motion
wiggle your fingers
count them
10
a perfect round number
take a look at the miraculous work of art at the end of your wrists
put them to use
embrace
high five
fist bump
use them to make art
dance
music
fight injustice
celebrate your victories
and help those around you.
with those two hands and ten fingers
the world is yours.

take a moment and look at your hands
and notice how you don't need a mirror to see yourself.