i say tell me

you say el

i say please

you say okay okay okay

i say stop stop stop

you say i love

i say no one

you say well yeah but

i say okay okay okay

you say sorry

i say *there's no need to be sorry i did this to myself

"I knew this girl once,
she had long hair, so long it whispered tiny kisses along her hips and waist
she had the oddest bluest eyes i'd ever seen, the color of the sky right before it gets completely dark
her thick, long eyelashes framed those eyes, and freckles formed constellations across her cheeks
i could almost draw the big dipper and Orion's belt on her milky white face.
She didn't know i existed but i admired her from afar. I could tell she was educated- She always had some form of poetry in her hand. But of all the things i could have noticed about her i noticed her bookmarks. She would lose them all the time, i would see her chasing after the scraps of paper as they flew through the wind down the street. She'd stick anything in between those pages, wrappers of all sorts, leaves, pennies, shoelaces, once i even saw a page ripped from a different book. It became my favorite game to guess what the next bookmark would be.  After awhile she stopped chasing the various bookmarks across the city and she cut all that long hair off, then awhile after that she started using unoriginal, uninspired plain old bookmarks.Then even awhile that she stopped bringing books altogether, until one day she didn't show up. Nobody knew that beautiful, mysterious, bookmark making girl was locked up inside her own mind. Nobody knew she hated her long hair and her freckles and even those baby blues. Nobody knew that she couldn't stand to live in her skin anymore so much that she swallowed a couple pills one night to ease away the pain. Even worse was she didn't know i watched her for so long and thought she was the most interesting human being i'd ever encountered. That girl committed suicide because she hated herself learn from her mistake, my mistake, everyone who ever noticed her bookmarks mistake, and don't do this, don't off yourself with a .45 before you've even had a chance to live" he's desperate now  
"please please you don't have to do this" he sputters

I answer simply " I never was much of a bookmark girl, i always dog-eared my pages"

*bang

12:37 AM
do you ever wake up wondering whether the stars watch us

12:37 AM
like reverse stargazing

12:37 AM
do you think they see us like we see them or

12:38 AM
are we more familiar to them

12:38 AM
than the other way around



2:49 AM
hey you know what

2:49 AM
i think we're not so differ

2:49 AM
different

2:50 AM
us and the stars

2:52 AM
maybe you can tell me what you think when you meet them



3:17 AM
remember that one time jupiter swung down for the moon?

3:18 AM
i saw no stars that night



5:10 AM
you told me once that i'd forgotten to count the galaxies

5:12 AM
and i told you that

5:12 AM
the night before

5:13 AM
i'd never stopped counting



8:02 PM
don't you ever wonder what it would feel like

8:03 PM
to look down on the earth

8:27 PM
from the milky way?

8:40 PM*
don't you ever wonder why we never will?

Math
Numbers
The only things everyone
And everything have in common
You can find mathematical proofs written
In between the stars
Numerical sequences hiding beneath a fern
That unfurls to reach the heavens
No one can deny, one will always equal one
And the sum of two numbers will never change
Truths remain truths no matter the language
I can't see how my friends can say 'I hate math'
Or how people say 'numbers are stupid'
Numbers and math comprise the essence of life
On another planet the number pi and
Sierpinski's triangle may have different names
But their rules remain the same
Math and numbers make up geometry
Which is full of tesselations, and fractals
And beautiful diagrams and principles
How can you not love something like the
Golden Ratio, or the Fibonacci sequence?
They provide the curl of a fern, the twist of
A snail's shell, the spiral of a pineapple
And rotation of axial leaves
Such a beautiful, never changing system
That appears in so so many forms
Why be bored when you can play with fractal-y
Tesselating doodles?
And don't even get me started on science...

In Florida sometimes it rains so hard
that you believe that it can't possibly stop,
that it will just rain and rain forever.

Sometimes I'd wake to a storm late at night,
and I'd sit out on the porch.

You could smell the lightning, and the coolness of the storm would
make your hair stand;
I'd feel so alive.

Some nights I'd go out, and my father
would be sitting on the porch already.
Lost in the storm
or maybe
called to it.
We wouldn't talk,
but we'd be lost together
in the rain and thunder.

Sometimes I wonder what of him
is left in me.
I am not sure
if I am more afraid of there being
very little
or of there being a great deal,
but when it rains
I think about him on that porch;

I. I turn into a river around you, so close to drowning you in the regret I pooled in the pit of me. You are gasoline, always splitting me in half when I mean to consume you.

 II. I am swallowing gasoline like butterflies
Hoping the friction of their sinking wings will ignite me
Reveal the fire I've always submerged.

III. But my dear, am I not beautiful covered in flames?