i'm starting to see you
in every young man,
everywhere.
and each time
it hurts me
just a little bit more.
because i catch myself staring,
at young men who weren't you.
so far three days with no words,
has me seeing you everywhere.

i've been swept
away by a current
of my own darkness.
i don't have the strength
to hold on to the rocks,
each day i continue
to go farther and farther
down stream.
tomorrow i may
be at the end of the falls.

no promises no promises
i don't want
to give my words to you
because they are the strongest part of me.
they're stronger than the strength
i try not to let go.
because easily
in sixteen hours
i could let go.
i don't want to leave
any loose ends,
and broken promises.

by chance
i met your eyes
in the hall today.
normally i would of
been scoping you out.
my eyes roaming the halls
and the classroom, for your face.
however since i told you,
i've been avoiding you.
and by chance
i met your eyes
in the hall today.
my heart raced,
and i cursed myself.

one thing
or another
i'm always left
wondering
the truth of everything
anyway.
and in some cases
is really what i believed before
should i be believing?
possibly even what may be right,
that should be right is actually wrong.
the certainty in everything makes me
hard to get used to something.
is a person really who they say they are?
are they really who i believe them to be,
is the question i should ask.
am i seeing real
or am i seeing the fake.
we're finding ourselves after all.

i try to be patient
i try to be humble
but as the days continue passing
i find myself with a strong will
to stare out the window.
the snow is starting to melt
leaving blue sky
and grass to be greened.
i just continue to sit within
closed classrooms
brick walls
and trick windows,
all of which keep me
inside.

i will fight for the flight
to the stars
when the option
becomes available
i might just take the chance
and explode myself into
particles, like stars
in outer space.

an average girl
in a lonely world.
standing crying
within a bathroom.
she's alone at prom.
her date made bail
paid $50
and ran,
passed go
and kept going.

i want to write poetry
so that they will move through
generation
after generation
words of my knowledge
bleed through the blood
of the words on a page
through the lips of the people.
but so far my poems revolve around
my adoration of you.

and i guess
i'm never
going to be liked,
because being a muffin
isn't attractive.
and like others
i'd rather be a cupcake.

if the way
weekends **** me
are two days
in which i worry.
i can't imagine summer.
and even now
i don't see you at all really
not until afters school.
and even then,
time is limited.
i no longer get to
bring you an apple
at lunch,
place it on the table beside you
my arm brushing past yours
or perhaps my hand
squeezing your shoulder.
i guess in my dreams
i'll still be bringing you apples
in lunch period four.

i see the way he looks at you
and it hurts me, each time.
but i say nothing,
but watch him.
i watch him change
around you and i
cannot provoke that
change apparently.
so i remain
at some days
he's my friend
and some days
he'll knock me
down a peg.

i really don't want to
but here i go again with reading
love stories, which will make me
think of possibilities
and hope
and you.

how silly of me
to think that i know how to do math.
when my current grade
is a C-.
becasue apparently
we have an equation error.
and i've tried simple math
to put one and one together
to make two
1 +1 = 2
to make us.
but you seem to be
some problem
that no one can solve.
not even the smartest.
and i've tried.
but a C-
only reflects
how i did on the test
not how hard i tried.
and it seems to me
i shouldn't try anymore.

i stood outside today,
to get away from you.
winter isn't over.
it continues to snow.
you came to me,
not out of choice,
but to return something.
and i looked into the sky
i refused to acknowledge you
with my eyes.
i didn't want
to change my mind.

i wanted
to become one
with the sky,
away from you.
so you'd see the snow
in resemblance
to how my heart is reacting
to your bipolar climates
of personality.
so you woudln't
see the hollowing look
within my eyes.
i'm tired of this weather.

i told you
something that hadn't been sitting right.
i wanted to throw the words
into your ears.
i wanted to scream them.
so you weren't mistaken.

i told you
words that are meant for you
i don't know if they will change you
i don't expect them to at all.

but i told you
that i was done trying to be your friend,
in a voice hardly above a whisper
as if my own body
was shutting itself down
muting the words into silence.
i let them be spoken.

i told you
i meant it.

you told me
you didn't hear me.
but your eyes across the room
told me otherwise.

you wonder why i reacted
the way i did
when she shut me down
without glancing at me.
and whatever was
my response
don't put out my fire.
i'm excited.

in seventh grade
my hair turned blue.
it was my hairstylist's mistake.
the black mixed with the blond.
but none of that is important.
what is important is
in seventh grade
my hair turned blue
and the words that followed
this statement being made aloud
used to be an embarrassment.
i used to be embarrassed
by what my teacher had told me
when really i should have listened.
when he overheard
and saw blue hair.
he told me something:
that i am a strong,
independent woman.
and that no matter
what life throws at me
whether it be blue hair,
or green hair,
or anything else.
i can hold my chin up.
i should have been
anything but embarrassed.
because that set of words
that mini speech in front of my peers,
has to be one of the most important parts
of my middle school years.

so it seems
this saturday
i'll be the one girl
on the sidelines.
i guess that's okay.
dancing really isn't my forte.
it just hurts to know that
yes had been the reply
but no had been the answer.

i feel like
my body
is aligning
with the stars.
and i'm just losing myself.
i need an anchor,
before i fly to outer space
to become one with the stars
and shatter.
i need something to hold on to
so why can't that
something
just be
your
hand?

there are certain things--
mostly your smile..
that i want to capture
in a jar.
use it to light up
those dark nights
where i'm up with the stars, crying.
where a rift has started
within the fibers of my being
threatening to slowly tear
myself apart.
piece by piece
i'll give away
to those i think deserve.
i'd save my heart for you.
but i'm not sure you'd want it.
it's darkened over the years,
and it's cracked
and broken
with quick fix
compromises and repairs
with faulty glue
band aids
and cheap tape.

i want to capture your smile
and use it to light up those nights
so i'll have more time
to repair my heart
for you.

i guess it's time
i take a step back
once again
i've come to this decision
to walk away.
i'm coming to realize
that having feelings for you
only hurts.
i know you're not over her.
and i've tried. but this time
i'll try as a true friend
rather than a friend
with hidden intentions.
to you, i shouldn't change much
or at all
but to me, you'll less become
the person i want to hold
to the person i should be holding
differently, all along.

for some people
some things
will never truly go away
and they will be more than scars
on the surface
they will be equivalent
to the craters in the moons
untouchable and there
standing in space
for an almost eternity.

i feel like we've
come a long way
since september
but also in some moments
i feel i'm still meeting you again.
before all words and secrets
and time
i'm back to september,
meeting you again.

this is a reason
why sleeping is better
or doing something mindless
is better.
because any given moment
of too much time on my hands
i'm going to think
and thinking grows ugly quickly.
the mind has a way
to let on to ideas you usually
don't want to think about
and in the next moment
you could be thinking of how to die,
rather than what you'll be doing
in three years.
the mind has a way
to block out the future
and think you won't survive.

it's become apparent to me
my dear, that despite
your words:
"i didn't want to hurt you,
because you're my friend
and i know you care about me."
you know, you are hurting me.
giving me "i don't know"'s.
just tell me already
you're hurting me more
than leading me on.
and i'm starting to grasp the fact
that you may know
but for your sake i cut off
romantic ties.
but god if you would just
stop with the tentative steppings
just please tell me yes or no
don't give into the grey area
please leave it in black and white
and if it ends up splicing my heart
into a few pieces, so be it
because dwelling with the grey
is starting to hurt more.

i've come to realize
that you must not care.
because i hear you talk
through the walls of this house
and i sense collapse.
i'm one step--one final snap
away from screaming at all of you
that i've been the lowest of lows.
and that all of you make me this way.
i'm so close to telling you all
but that would open a can of worms
on my end, and i'll never get away.
i'll reduce myself to tears.
i'll scream at you.
curse at you.
hate you.
i'm six months away
from freedom
i'm six months away
to being able to talk.
to finally get help.
i'm six months away
from my brother
he's always number one.
more attention
you defend him.
you make me the *****.
you make me the enemy.
well ******* all.
i hope my poetry get's published someday
and this poem will wreak havoc in your souls
when you go to purchase the book with your
'beloved daughter's' name on it.
and i hope you read this
and i hope you cringe.
i don't usually wish such ill.
but today
at this time.
i think i'm going to be sick.
i think i want to die again,
because honestly.
i've always been better
but always came in second place.

i have school tomorrow
and i planned on closing my eyes
thirty minutes ago.
but the time continues passing
and i'm either crying,
or it's the ceiling fan above me.
and the most i can say
is: "i'm trying."
i'm trying to fall asleep
but my mind keeps swirling
it keeps churning
and the truth of the matter is:
i may just be giving up.

i may just be giving up small parts of myself.
here and there, everywhere
leaving little signs of my struggle
a trail for those to follow;
an example to those who go down the same path
of existential crises and depression, etc.
a final heap at my defeat.
i wish i could of been turned on to the idea of help
or taking medication
a long time ago
the early stages,
before it all started.
because getting help now screams of weakness
something i don't want to show
in this state even though it's true.
i am weak.
taking medication makes me think i'll lose myself
the state of mind i have that's so clear to me.
and everything will get fuzzy around the edges.
i'll be the one always smiling.
instead of staring blankly at the floor,
or at other people's shoes
or out windows.
the one people talk about
behind my back
"crazy happy-pill girl."
like my seventh grade family and consumer science teacher
that we all used to make fun of behind her back.
depression came at her like a leech.
the rumor was, that her son had committed suicide.
and in eighth grade is when i started
finally seeing all the signs
of no jack, just jill starting to go downhill.
when suicide and harming myself
sparked some kind of appeal.
how wrong, i see that is now.
there is nothing glamorous of cuts
or feeling sad all the time.
or killing yourself.
when i turned in someone for cutting
and bringing blades to school;
after a suicide that sent our school for a spin.
i was shocked.
i had math class with that kid.
kids, that's what we were
we were too young to be dealing with death
with such misery and pain,
mental and physical.
i didn't know it then however,
i didn't know i was too young
i still don't really know,
that i shouldn't be feeling this way.
i should of said something then.
but now three years later
and struggling to hold onto myself
i understand
medication may have made my teacher weird,
but she was much happier
than constantly stewing the *** to her depression
her thoughts constantly on her son's death.
if that was the truth, anyway.
she retired at the end of that year
and i wonder what happened to her.
maybe if i hadn't developed
this feeling of independence
or superiority
to getting help
or taking medication
i'd be better now.
perhaps all this emotion
is because i'm going through my teenage years.
what if it is all chemistry
sorting itself into place
like a puzzle.
what if it's a test to see how far
i'll manage
like making it out of a maze.
and suddenly, i'll be ok one morning
waking up and i'll finally
be at peace with myself.
perhaps this sadness,
is just the universe's way of telling me
that i take up space.
and the thoughts of ending myself
are trying to make room for another
human being who has better potential...
like curing cancer...
i'm sure my best friend would love to save her mom.
or solving world hunger,
thomas malthus would turn over in his grave.
perhaps this is just an illness
that i don't want to believe i have:
depression, bipolar-ism, the occasional suicidal thoughts...
perhaps it's denial.
that because i'm in a low period for a day or a week or two and then it gets better.
perhaps.
perhaps i'm on my way to getting better.
i don't really know.

it may seem like
my poems come quickly
like some factory
turning out enough product
every year.
but poems don't have
to be written
painstakingly slow.
poems can take minutes or days.
to each their own.

it may be hard to believe
but after the storm,
the clouds do clear.
it may be hard to believe,
but after the storm,
after the clouds do clear,
the blue sky comes back.
it may be hard to believe
and it is.
because sometimes
even i don't believe.
and sometimes
even i am stuck
in an internal and eternal storm.

i got the best advice today.
i told them my heart was already racing.
their response:
"let it race."
i figured it out.
i need to do this.
so let it race.
let it speak.
let it show the anxiety
the nervousness
and the excitement.
when i talk to you
my dear,
tomorrow morning
i will let it show in my eyes.

tomorrow can go two ways
each divided between two answers:
yes or no.
and the hand to my heart truth
is that i need to do this
or else i never know what you would say.
so tomorrow
i'll lure you into her office
and ask you there
m&m;'s waiting.
i'll have your full attention.
i can already feel my heart racing.
after you read the poster.
are you going to say yes
or no.

yes or no.
yes or no.
yes or no.

...is what i'm thinking
thinking of the scenario
how everything could change
how i could change
how we could change.
and i'm stricken with anxiety.
i need to do this.

there's some
sick twisted pleasure
i get at the thought
of you knowing
i like someone else.
and it slightly sickens me
but also that
sick twisted pleasure
in knowing
is elating.

i could of brought up prom
i could of at least mentioned it.
but with you
i seem to forget everything
and live in the present with you.
i have no worries
about anything.
i'm focused on you
and the way your mouth
forms around your words
and your smiles.
i'm focused on you
and the light reflecting in your eyes.
i'm focused on you
and you let me live in the present
without worries.

i may have
told how my day went.
and how your name
came up in conversation
more than once,
maybe even more
than five times.
but also, i may have
left out the part
where i leaned my head
on your shoulder
and you put your head
on mine.

my dear, today
you took a right turn
away from me
and shocked
i continued on my usual path
when 100% of me
wanted to turn and follow.
friday is approaching fast.

i'm going to try to go to bed now.
i'm left in the moment
of staring at the ceiling again.
trying to sleep
but the thought of you,
my dear,
continues on
like the snow storm outside
relentless and heavy.
i can't remove you
from my thoughts.
it's simply not
going to be done.
so be it.
i'll go to sleep
thinking of you
and hopefully
i'll dream you too.

this next few days
are going to be a little stressful.
and it's not because i'm settling
into a new trimester.
it's because i'm thinking
of you
and prom
and how i'm going to ask you.
i'm crossing my fingers.
i hope you say yes.

i'm starting to have
a hard time remembering things.
like passwords
and meetings
and schoolwork.
and i'm not exactly sure why
but i have a feeling
that it may be
because of you.
again, my dear
you're on my mind
more often than
my understanding
of the knowledge
that i can actually remember
to count to a hundred.
instead of thinking
about how many times
i think of you
and committing them
to a number,
i'd rather count
to a hundred of something else.
maybe the seconds i spend with you.
perhaps the breaths you take,
when we sit side by side.
maybe even the smiles
you give me in a week.
the hugs you give me
in a month.
at least
in forgetting
i'm remembering you.

my mission
is to crash land
into bed
face first into
pillows and blankets
let myself sigh
and melt into
a dreamland.

it's just common sense to me.
having self worth is an unattainable peace.
the beauty and the beast.
because really if you think
about it, no one should really care
but confidence is always lacking.
few know the true peace,
of the true complete content and happiness
of having the self worth.
and envy swarms around us.
we can't see through all the dark
we're driven by that envy.
we end up even worse.

i'm not sure what to say
my words
revolve around
"sure," and "okay,"
i'm not sure what to say
my hope is that song's not about me.
and there's so much more
than being torn
and i hope you learn that.
and i hope you learn that
i'm not the one.

i catch myself a lot
thinking of you and your well being
and us and all possibilities.

today's your birthday
and we haven't talked
in a little while.
i'm not angry with you
i just need a little time.
i won't be there
tomorrow,
i'm about a couple
hours away.
so i guess this
is your present.
i'm sorry it's lame.

you started out
as the gray area.
the gray
refers to a subject or a problem
that people do not know how to deal with
because there are no clear rules.
in this case
you
were the grey area
i wasn't sure how
and i still am not sure how
to deal with you.
you just are.

and i've written more
than one poem for you.
you know, to tell you the truth
i used to count down the minutes,
the seconds for third hour to end.
so i could walk beside you.
it was a highlight of my day.

i think this period
of silence between us
is just another lock
that i have to be patient with
before i discover the way to unlocking it.
and i don't know if it's yours
or if it's mine.
maybe it's my distance
after telling you
but i'll find  a way.
i won't stray from my promise.
i'm still here for you.
i'm still ears.
i still believe in you.
i'm your friend.

you are a phenomenal person
and i'm not sure how else
to put who you are
into poems
because you're much more
than black and white
i can put down on paper
or through keys
you're the gray.

so please     remember
today's your birthday
and happy birthday.
happiness always
for you.
-M

as rude as it would be
i just want to laugh
i want to laugh at you
and applaud your choices.

i know it would be rude
but in the long run
i'd make me feel better
that i didn't pursue you further.

my main thought
is maybe i'm just
meant to be alone.

i've been told
that i'm too
independent


and that possibly
i'll never marry
because of this
independence.

and it depresses me
because really why
would you tell a
teenager that.

it's every dream
for a girl to have
a dream wedding
and get married.

and you crushed that
telling me those things
too independent
too much of a "*****."

it's nearing on three
and i find myself
sitting in this room
longing for you.

i wonder
if you think of me.

i feel pathetic
longing for you
as i do.
i'm sorry
that i do.

i find myself
thinking of you
often.

i wonder
if you think of me.

the first
and only time
i saw you cry
we were watching
our friends rehearse
for the play.
both of us had been watching
not lucky enough to be cast.
i sat next to you
and we watched monologues
be delivered.
but i looked over at you
at one point.
and you had tears in your eyes.
and i should of told you
"tears don't suit you."
and i should of
put a hand on your knee
to comfort you.

loneliness is consuming me
and i'm reduced to tears
at two in the morning
and i'm doing all i can
not to cave in on myself
like a star finally collapsing
occurring in: supernova.
if i could prevent
this sadness i would.
but it seems that i am
getting closer and closer
to a collapse.
but there's one difference
between me and a star.
a star gets brighter
before it collapses.
and the brightest
i will ever be
before collapse
is the reflection
of the light in my eyes
and in my tears.

i hate movies
and i hate books.
because by the end
i've changed
and it may just be
because it's two in the morning
and i am beyond exhaustion
where loneliness is starting to consume me.
and i'm upset, and i'm lost
but by the end
i've changed
or i'm left seeking
wanting more of the story
that wasn't real to begin with.
and it kills me inside.
stories of love
hardship
where characters fight
through thick and thin
to get where they are
to choose who they want to be
to have a mother lose a husband
and have to raise to children
that hardship
that love
that fight.
and in the end it ends
it ends happily.
and happy endings
i'm not complaining about.
but there's a part of me
that doesn't know what to do
with myself
once it's over.
and i'm lost.
i don't understand.

it's been five days
and tomorrow will be six
and i'm starting to miss people.

it's a never ending argument within me
to be happy to be out of school
but to sit and wish to be back in school
and out of the people i miss
it's probably you
my dear
that i miss most.