i thought of
purchasing
a dream catcher
but the truth is
i'm not sure if I want
my dreams of you
captured.
so i'll deal with
the nightmares.
|m.s.

in the middle of my eighth grade year
by unfortunates there was the new girl.
her name was simple.
simple could be the word to describe her.
however simple meaning anything but plain.
she was thin, tall
a wisp of a girl
with short blond hair,
and bright blue eyes.
she was kind.
the popular ate her up right away,
changed her,
put her through trials versus herself
made her into one of their own
a shell of a former simple girl
where simple used to be the word to describe her,
however simple meaning anything but plain.
with a former simple name
who still is thin, and tall
a wisp of a girl
who was kind
who still has short blond hair
but empty blue eyes.

|m.s.

it's coming to be
that me being in love with you
is no longer a secret
and i fear for you knowing.
i know that look that people
get in their eyes.
i know that look of pity
and disgust,
especially if they don't
feel the same way.
and i know the distance
they apply once
the words are out and about
and i don't think
i could ever be close to you
again.

i think of being painless
so i can cut and remove
excess skin,
so i can be beautiful
but as i sit here
and look to myself
in the mirror.
who am i kidding?,
when the paper cut
on my finger
hurts like a *****.

|m.s.

i was cold
i wish
you would of given
me
your jacket
however it was on
someone else's knees.

|m.s.

tonight, you drove me home.
at the restaurant you were quiet.
your eyes spoke of exhaustion,
yet you made your rounds.

you were quiet.
but once we got back in the car
you sprang to life once again.
loud, laughing...lovely.

after this week,
everything was worth it.
every tear,
and every headache.

when you pulled up to my house,
you just gave me this look.
you were quiet again.
and i just looked back at you.
living, limitless...lasting.

the thought of kissing you passed by,
but i slipped out of the car
and grabbed my things,
thanking you.

and instead of saying i love you.
i told you to drive safely,
because i felt that was the best to do.

after i closed the door,
i watched you drive away,
back to the road, home bound.
and part of me thought
"what if?"

but i'm not all about
the hypothetical,
what happened, happened,
and tonight, you drove me home.
loud, laughing, lovely, living, limitless, and lasting.
and i love you.

|m.s.

I AM RIDDEN with half assed makeup
and bed head hair
and i bet i look awful today
in jeans and a wrinkled t-shirt
and clay covered shoes
but i can't just keep keeping myself
together.
i'm ready
to
     fall
           apart
schools looking to be
sadder than usual
and i count the minutes
to go by
first, second, third, fourth, fifth.
why do i count down the time to go to bed?

|m.s.

fleeting glances,
i was worried you weren't here,
but i passed you in the hallway
and that's all i need
to set me up for a good day.

|m.s.

her hair was ink
cascading her shoulders;
reflecting blue skies
of late winter.
and we sat stationary,
speaking foreign languages
and i realized i don’t even know her name.

i do try
but no one listens
so why do i try?
being quiet and alone
suits me better
than not being heard.
so let me dress
in quietness and alone
let me disappear into the wall work
just let me become background noise.
a tree to fall in the forest

you are a light in my life
like no other.
sometimes the morning sky
doesn’t always light up
in the winter months.
but you break through the fog.
you always have.

|m.s.

i find myself staying up
earlier and earlier each day
thoughts continue swarming
like wasps.
sleep is the only thing that draws them away, like flame.
but i can't fall asleep.
i'm not skilled
at creating fires.

it's 3 o'clock
and i'm up staring
at the screen of my computer
trying to put some
kind of thought together
some kind of string of words.
god, it's already july.
i've survived a month
but i'm not sure how much longer.
if you do call i'm going to end up crying
babbling out i miss you,
and then you're never going to want me.
because how does someone describe the sound
of tears hitting the comforter
of a quiet night--alone.
there's not a perfect way
of describing loneliness,
of how the weighing down
of your soul feels.
there's no easy way
to describe feelings
for someone.

there's no way.
and it may just be the fact
that i'm not old yet.
and i don't know what love is.
but if i didn't
why on this small world
would i feel like my heart
is being wrenched from my chest
and provided on some silver platter
to a god who's supposed to help you fall in love
his arrows work backwards.
if anything--they work in lines.
or perhaps they don't work at all,
and all of this is just some ruse.
because love is more than a battlefield.
it'll destroy you from the inside out
and you'll be left
leaking the brokenhearted.
leaving craters,
and a gaping hole
where the heart should of been
before it made desertion.


|m.s.

i felt your eyes
across the room.
you were a perfect storm,
contained
within a dress shirt, and vest.
you were the epitome
of a monday morning
in the middle of winter,
your eyes spoke of
harsh cold, and windchill,
not quite ready
to emerge and go back to people.
but only i know how much you crave interaction.
you just avoid it from me.

|m.s.