I strike a match
Light the fire
Not-
to watch the world burn
Rather-
to finally feel some warmth.

I play in the ashes
Footprints left behind
Not-
to get somewhere important
Rather-
to leave something I'll be remembered by

I say my prayers
Before I sleep
Not-
to get any sort of help
Rather-
to  make the world a better place

Sometimes,

Hello

can be the most difficult
word
to say.

For warm summer days
Spent in the company of friends
In earshot of ocean waves
With sandy feet and ice cream cones

For all the pretty girls
In smooth black dresses
With luscious lips and curvy hips
Walking in red stilettos or clean Nikes

For countless sleepless nights
Glow-in-the-dark paint fights
Movies till dawn
Plenty of sneaking around

For the memories we make
For the laughter we share
For the love we have (and lose)
For the God we know

When I was in 4th grade a girl named Claire
Kicked my ***
And left me on the blacktop
I swore it would never happen again

When I was 17 a girl named Ashley
Kicked my ***
And left my heart in pieces
I swore to never trust love again

I just turned 23 and a girl I shouldn’t name
Kicked my ***
I wanted to give her everything
For the very first time

But I never got off the blacktop
My heart is still in pieces
Love is still untrustworthy
I need to learn to fight.

Reese’s Pieces are for people who
Are used to picking up the pieces
Of broken hearts
But they still want to make it
A good experience
Smiles that look like peanut butter
And kisses that taste like chocolate

Butterfingers are for the kids who
Are used to being picked last for
Everything except to cheat off of
In math class
They’ve grown accustomed to
Not being thought of

Popular kids like the M&Ms;
Because in the end
What else do they have except
For the stories of muses
And the parties they attended
One-by-one they picked apart
Everyone who didn’t act just like them

Pop Rocks are terrible and
So are Peppermint Patties

Crunch bars and 100 Grand’s
Made the jocks think they would actually
Go somewhere and do something
With their lives
Hope comes in strange forms
Monkeys don’t know the difference

Kit-Kats are for the hipsters
Talking a little too loud about mustaches
Listening to music that nobody knew
Grouping around vegan lunch tables
They would break off one by one
When another clique accepted them

Anything made by ***** Wonka
Was a favorite of the kids who
Knew who they were and
Weren’t ashamed

After all, what does candy say
About any of us
Clothes and shoes
Were only disguises
To hide us from the world we
Desperately wanted to fit into
If you had a Five Star notebook
Started mattering a lifetime too soon

When I step into the convenience store
I picture the kids that I know
Because of the candy they ate
I regret having such a sweet tooth
To pick apart kids’ lives
With nothing to satisfy the bitter
After-taste of social humiliation