i have a headache
and maybe
if i were with you
it'd be solved.
because maybe
one glance into your eyes
would heal it.
or even your hands,
holding my face
perhaps a kiss.
maybe you are
the medicine
i need.

you pulled me in your arms
and i wanted to melt
but i threw up guards
thick sheets of ice
quickly i wanted to
remove you from me.
quickly before i cry.
i don't want to cry
not at school and not with you
i'm fine, i'm fine, i'm fine
cliché as if stuck on repeat
or as if to sway myself
into believing.
so i turn away
and walk away
ice coating
my retreating back.

so often now
I find myself
thinking
taking time to
stop
and pause
rewind through memories
and events
and I cringe.

we are all
coded for error
mistakes spelled out
in our DNA.
we are build to make mistakes
trial and error some just have mistake more apparent
within them.
people like me.

tonight
while
i wait
for 11:11
again
this time
i have
another
small
wish:
"i wish you liked me."

i long
for your arm
perched on my shoulder
like how a bird perches on it's home.
i want to be a safe place for you
i want to be a home,
not your home
but a home.
someplace where
you can perch
i can stay put, with you
and we can sit.
so my dear
chickadee
don't fly away.
just perch.

today i remembered i like you.

my dear
it sure has been awhile.
i don't see you very often
but i still bring you apples at lunch
i still fix your hair,
i still steal a stare at you
across the hall
but pretend to be too busy reading
or homework, or drawing.

when really i should give you a smile.

today
you gave me a hug
out of no where
i didn't even have to ask.
and i just waned...
i just wanted to bury my face there
and inhale your scent and relax
because i'm so stressed.

my dear
thank you for the hug
i should of said thank you
but i proceeded to tell E.
that you hated me
and i don't know why.
E. replied that you love her
and i must of had some look on my face
and she added you two are good friends.
that's odd because i didn't tell her
i like you.
well you don't act that way with me
was my response,
i've had bruises,
i know this
i hear it but i do not tell her
and it isn't abuse
it was sword fighting.

he's tougher with me
rougher with me
someone once told me
you know he's not the same with you
perhaps he's shy?
perhaps he does like you?
and i couldn't believe
and i dismissed the thought until now
because i don't want to get my hopes up.

my dear,
you claim to not hate me.
but some days i just cry
because that seems to be a lie.
some days you swat me away,
or tell me to go away
your eyes get stormy
your complexion dark
and i can't help but to feel sorry
for what i did
if i did do something.
and i sit here crying
writing this poem for you
that you'll never read.

i don't understand
and you looked genuinely sorry
i told you, you had told me
"one day i'll be your friend
the next i'll knock you down a peg."
my dear,
you looked shocked,
your eyes widened
in a reaction i haven't
figured out yet.
you looked...sorry.
possibly even guilty.
and those brown and green eyes
were wide
and again
i'm not used to
having your full attention.

my dear,
you told me you were sorry.
and it was my turn to be shocked.

i think
the most important
gift
i can give you
is my ears,
my words
and my presence.
because i will listen
i will give you advice
to my best capability
and i can just be there.
on rainy days,
cold days,
sunny days.
i'll just be here.
and possibly all three.

and you would never believe
the way i look at you
my dear, i wish you knew
how my eyes and heart soften
and how my heart
threatens to melt
whenever you smile.
even if it's not for me.
i like seeing you genuinely happy
than the hard stare i usually gain.
so i keep fighting to make you smile.

poetry here
is like a diary
in my hands.
here however
i choose to be more creative
close the distance of complains and whines
open spaces
and forgotten pages
with poems.
and i declare
poetry is how i express myself
without talking to many
here, poetry
is my diary

when they asked me today
if i liked him
i said
of course i like him
and i wasn't too far off the mark there.
"but you're so mean to him"
that's not my intention
they have only seen moments
where the action of "mean"
i use as endearment.
they haven't seen
how i look at him
or how i actually treat him.
despite sword fights
and constantly bickering
he's my soft spot.

my dear
my wonderwall,
lately I'm suspicious that you've found out
that you're in my thoughts
more often than the second hand that ticks on the clock.
I can't decide though, if I want you to really know yet,
but until then I will write you secret poems
and make wishes on 11:11
coins in fountains
and shooting stars.
my dear,
my wonderwall,
lately, I've thought of you.

there is not a angel
perched on my shoulder
what is good doesn't exist.
the fire engulfs
all that was good
good that shall be
nevermore.

i know it's strange
but i couldn't look at you again today
because it's strange.
to have your complete attention.
your eyes are beautiful.
wide and open.
and at those moments
i did glance into them
your eyes,
that image,
will forever be burned within my head
and honestly
i was flustered
to have your complete
and utter attention.
next time you look at me like that
please smile.
by the way
they are too green
not all brown.

most days i'm okay being alone
but you are the person
i could spend the rest of forever
perched next to your side.
|m.s.

however
even though you said that
i can't help how i feel.
your gem herself told me:
"can't you be done?"
as if just deciding to be done with him
is simple.
that's a mother ******* lie.
you can't just choose.
you may have,
but you no longer
liked him.

you haven't read my poems.
but neither has he.
but how dare you look me in the eye
and say
"can't you be done?"
i apologize but i have absolutely
no
control
over this.
don't try to stop me.

i couldn't even ask for a hug
when i really needed one.
my courage lacks
in areas like so
and i can't seem to
bribe the words
to leave my mouth
so my dear
i won't ask for hugs no longer
even though i usually need one.

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.

you're getting to be tired with me
i can see it in your actions,
in your words
but most of all, lying in your eyes
and i'm not as hurt
as i thought i would be.

|m.s.

note to self
to never bring you
up to her again
your significance
i could see
through her eyes
her heart freeze
and then lost sight
because those blue eyes
froze over as well
she radiates with warmth
but by the mere mention of your name
she freezes
what did you do
to cause such thick ice
to cover her heart?

i'm sorry
i'm not much help
i know i offered
and i try
but in the end
i just end up watching you
staring.
i know staring isn't kind
but you aren't a stranger
or at least not as much as
you used to be
and i go lengths
to watch.
but when you look at me
i look away.
i know i offered to help
but the truth is
i just wanted
to spend time with you.

i haven't talked to you
at all i guess
and i chose to walk away
and no longer wait
maybe it was the air
of which you wouldn't look at me
or the condescending tone when you spoke French
but i walked away
and i've chosen not to call upon you
ask you how you were.
and i promised,
so there's this little part
eating away at me.
but i don't know
i shouldn't worry about it.
i should just take a deep breath.

sometimes i think
that my compliments
go to people i want to impress
or make them like me
because i don't want to be not liked
and the problem of that matter is
i tell you readers this
is that more than often
i've felt
not welcome.

i don't want to go to bed
i don't think i can sleep
because i'll stare
up at my
ceiling
constellations
and think of you.
i just want sleep
be numb from thoughts of you.

you don't remember
but i do.
i tried to pick something up that fell
and you
threw me
away.
it wasn't my job,
is what you said.
oh i remember.
i had already had a bad day
a bad week.
and you
threw me.
i left.
it was cold, and had been snowing off and on
and i walked outside ready to leave.
i broke down.
and i cried.
you don't remember
but i do.
maybe
you don't even know.

but i remain as i am
i will try to be strong
i will try to be here
and keep my promise
for you.
it all sounds simple.
but if you think about it
i'm the girl who likes you
trying to help you
with liking another girl.
oh irony.

i look for you in the morning
wednesdays, as i have said in the past
are my least favourites.
and it may be because i don't see you.
so i pose another question
then do i hate saturdays sand sundays
too?
maybe.
but i've caught myself dreaming of you
and even more so thinking of you
so on wednesdays
i take risks to see you
because that's the problem with them
you are here
but i don't get to see you.
at least on saturdays and sundays you are farther away
not that i like that any better
so on wednesdays,
i take risks for you

you realize
that in three months
you taught me
that the colour orange
is more than a colour
and that the candy m&m;'s
are more than a candy
so whenever i eat m&m;'s
i think of you,
i save the orange for last
and sigh
where are you
to take the orange ones?
not here.
i bet you don't even think about it
i do.

i think the only reason
i was happy today
is because i went outside.

even though i got a headache
even though i felt sick,

i felt the sunlight on my moon skin
and saw the sparkling land about me.

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.

oh confidentiality
makes me stop
makes me think
i pause.
and i knock myself up
another peg
on stress.
i have open ears
but
when one's heart is
sometimes an eternal winter
there's a slippery *****.
and people can fall fast.

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.

i've resorted
pinching myself
in moments of uncertainty.
am i alive?
am i dreaming?
am i anything?
is this real?
questions
of existance
i makea my heart ache
and leave red marks
on my skin
just to know
is this real?
am i actually with you
was that smile really mine
in those moments of today
in hours, minutes, seconds...
pain seems to bring me back.
and i'm the tall tale fairy tale
in a worn out
forgotten book
that the librarians have decided
to give away for free
and it sits
and it sits
and it's lost, forgotten, not wanted
and it moves on
to some celestial recycling plant
to become something else
reincarnation,
but it all comes back down to
is this real
or am i just dreaming
because i am that forgotten
unlucky worn down book
and if someone gives me a chance
a read
i want to know.
pinching
is a test.

S
that new years kiss could of meant
anything.
but i felt spontaneous.
you are the embodiment of music,
dear boy
don't stray from that path
the number 4,000 suits you

K
you opened up to me completely
and we're my new friend
but lately i've sensed you closing off
i'm not sure if it's the stress of memorizing
or the fact i'm trying to be
his new gem.

M
since freshman years we've been friends
and i've done everything for you
here and there
and everywhere.
but it seems you've found new friends.
i wish you would remember me

C
my dear
i consider you the king
of the universe.
don't give me that harsh stare
i prefer it when you smile.

K
you were my first love
but i hated myself.
and i was scared.
and even though
you live a world away
you are now my best friend

hopes and dreams go
almost as fast as a balloon pops
releasing air
a deadly sigh
before it's thrown away.
i know i can't blame you
but,
the hope swelling in my chest
"popped"
when you said you liked her.

what are the consequences
if i lean towards you
in the car tonight.
just a slight lean
a moment
of deafening silence
your music blown away
by the intensity of our stares.

if i leaned in
signifying i would want a kiss
what would that mean?
i guess you would found out then
but what's the problem
people keep telling me to tell you anyway
but there are distant forevers
and i'm not a forever.
i'm just a present
two or three weeks
kind of gal.

pretty smile,

glue it in place.

tears for later, fall upon the tile.

let's cut to the chase,

you run a mile

only to race

to the end of said smile.

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.