I can not follow you through the holes and lanes of the skinny people, the ones you glide effortlessly through with no concern for leaving me behind.

My dearest Katlyn,
I love the way that sounds. I love the way your name just flows off my tongue like it’s the most natural thing in the world. To me, we are the most natural thing in the world. I believe it was fate that brought us together all those years ago, when we were nothing more than innocent children. Now our innocence has been stripped from our bones and our bodies have developed along with lines of laughter and worry across our faces. Yet you are the one, who after all this time, I still cling to. Back then, you were my rock and my safety net in a new and confusing environment, not much has changed.
Our history is a rocky one, to say the least. It’s full of drama and heartbreak; but as well as love and passion. I swear we could add a little embellishments and have our own soap opera. Despite all the troubles from our past, I hold those memories dear. Because when I recall those times, I don’t just recall arguments and words thrown, I recall the way you stumble over words when you’re flustered and how red your face gets when your choking words down. As for our better times, I worship those memories as if they are held upon a mental shrine; protected, never to be tampered with or tainted. There are things I have come to regret. I regret not swallowing my fear and being proud to tell everyone, “This is the girl I love!”, but during those times, I wasn’t ready. Although, our hidden love did make sneaking around so much more exciting. Sometimes I wish we could go back in time about three years and just show ourselves then that it was okay and it turns out for the best.
Things are more than okay. You are the love of my life and the one to spend forever with, however long forever may be.

-and if you choose to stay,
come to accept the things I say,
as the surface of everything hidden,
because my heart can tell you what my mouth didn't.

This isn't a poem but more of a testament,
If your eyes and your smile do this to my body
I can only imagine how your hands would feel.

I dream of you every moment of every day.
I think of you when I look in the mirror and I think of your arms around my waist.
I miss you with every breath I draw and I miss us with every breath that leaves my body.
I remember your smooth voice the second I wake up and its the last thing I hear when I fall asleep.
You are all I can think about.
The perfect drug within the perfect woman.

Happy Birthday to me
On this day 11/17
May all my wishes come true
As I send out farewell love to all the people I once knew.
Rejoice with me on this fine crisp day
But listen to the words I neglected to say
My mouth may smile and my eyes may shine bright
But concerning my thoughts within; all is not right.

Love is delicate and beautiful. Think of it as a flower. If you dont treat it right it will wilt and die. And sometimes even when you do everything perfectly,  it still dies. But thats okay. You take a petal from the dead flower and press it into your scrap book. You move on and plant another flower. You will love romantically but only if you open up. You are a very closed off person.  You cant expect others to love you when you dont show them anything to love. You are loveable and I love you. You will **** a lot of relationships and thats okay but one day you will find one that you would rather die yourself than to watch that flower wilt.

Maybe we're not meant to be.
Maybe our last departure should have been all.
Maybe fate ******* up.
Maybe that day in the restaurant I never go to was fate.
Maybe fate didn't ***** up.
Maybe we are meant to be.
Maybe I'm delusional.

Your love for this girl has been noted,
processed and rejected.
Try again at another time.

Your love for this girl has be noted,
error in transmission.
Try again at another time.

Your love for this girl has been noted,
message failed,
Try again at another time.

Your hatred for this girl has been noted,
message sent.

Your apology for this girl has been noted,
processed and rejected.

Circuit overload.
Do not try again.

The reason for my sudden disappearance.*

I will never forget how it felt to be on top of the world. I felt like a mermaid, like the ones that guide the ships through the sea, misleading and ultimately leading many men to their demise.
On the front of our speed boat in the most popular tourist destination in my small town, with the wind blowing through my hair, time stood still. I felt invincible.
Hell, back then I was invincible. Every teenager likes to be a melodramatic little ****, and I was no different.
It was the summer before I started college, the summer where I would depart from all my adolescence and emerge in the adult world.
Right now is where you can mentally insert the sound of a record player being violently stopped.
That summer where I felt on top of the world was the calm before the storm.
Falling off the top of the world hurts, and here I sit with my only friend being Atlas, trying to collect myself.
Who knew there would be a type-writer in hell?

I wish someone would have warned me how rough everything would be. The movies make it out as if the transition between being a child and an adult is smooth and gradual, but for me, that wasn't the case.
I went to bed a child and woke up wishing I hadn't taken the time for granted.

Why do we insist on smiling in all our pictures? We hide our emotions and thoughts behind our baring teeth while our eyes show the truth. We use social media as a virtual scrapbook. All we're doing is lying to our future , reminiscing over forgotten memories and "look how happy I was".  Its okay not to smile.

I am worth more than my *******
My body is worth more than your ***** desires
If you lust after me then prove your desires through a song, written words or simple communication
Do not send me your less than mediocre ungroomed extremitie in a snap
With the word "*******?" written on it
Take you and your salivating mouth elsewhere
If all you see me for is my *******.

We seem to be on a constant drip of caffeine followed by sleep aids and pain meds for the world that never sleeps. We self-medicate constantly with sodas, chocolate and alcohol.

why is it two years later i still find myself crying over your death

I haven't been myself.
I haven't bled in two months.
I haven't wrote in over a month.
I haven't exercised in three weeks.
I haven't picked up a book in two weeks.
I haven't had a panic attack in five days.
I haven't slept in three days.
I haven't cried in two days.
I haven't missed you in...

Am I stupid for believing we ever had a chance to last the long run and make a life for ourselves when at the end we couldn't even hold a conversation?

Your elegance entrances me.
The way you carry your words
the way they roll off your tongue
and melt like butter in my mind.
The way you carry your body
like you own the world
like you own the universe.
I am entranced by your elegance.

I never meant to break your heart, I was just trying to preserve myself.

To you, my one and only unknown love, I bestow unto you my heart and burning desires.
I've dreamed of our wedding day, and much more to come.
But still with a blank slate, for you, my one and only unknown love.

There's a man standing down behind the tree, maybe that's a face, maybe that's a leaf. I'm terrified of the dark.

Sometimes I think out break up was more dramatic than the fall of the Berlin wall.

Running in sand is like chasing your tail. You're not going to get very far but you're gonna waste a lot of energy.

I still have that Blackhawks hoodie you gave me back in February.
Sometimes I still wear it.
Sometimes I sleep in it because it smells like you.

Dear Wandering Poet,
I pray you find your muse.
That you over turn a stone where your babbling brook dried up and are washed with the written word.

I guess I won that stupid fight of "I love you more."

I almost texted you good morning but I didn't because without you in my life a good morning doesn't exist.

I long for those nights in which I absentmindedly fall asleep while praying.  Talking to god like hes my bestfriend.

All life is
Is a nonchalant death trap.

maybe she just has a thing for older guys.
it doesn't make her strange...just different.
but maybe she's just a kid with daddy issues
waiting for some guy to fill that spot
and looking in all the wrong places.*

Fathers: Take care of your daughters.

I'm done with her,
and I'm done with him.
I'm done with you,
and I'm done with me.
I'm done with school,
and I'm done with work.
Yet here I am.
"What are you talking about honey? You've just began."

It seems as if I don't know how to coin a poem unless my soul is being tortured in one way or another.
**** someone get me out of this god forsaken bathtub. My heart is bleeding purple ink, my skin has turned to paper.
Let me cry a stream of poems to save myself from dehydration.

Listen to what I mean, not what I say. Because its 1am and I'm eleven poems in. I just texted "Yeah I'm fine lol" and I'm sitting in the bathtub, my chin wearing the mascara my eyes sported earlier and I'm too tired to chase my sanity down the drain.

Im okay...  
      fine,
      alright,
      good,
      lying.

    not
Im ^ okay...

Im not worth the pain I put people through.  
Its like my subconscious thinks its some sick joke.

I lay awake at night
thank god for my life
and the stars for their light
I look to the morning star and pray
God give me strength to put down this knife
protect my girl, keep her safe and okay
this girl is my sin
One day to be my wife
the girl who I pray will let me in
so dear god, dear stars and the moon
protect my girl, let her get through this strife
keep her safe and okay so that I may see her soon.

The year began with another funeral.
**** and ASL. That was it. That was the future.
By now, extremely adept at finding excitement even through second hand experience
I didn't want to make this any harder for him than it already was.
Once my father made a decision,  there was no stopping him.
I swept back one side of my hair with a comb and pinned the white flower over my right ear.
I felt like I was trapped in one of those terrifying nightmares.
Life is bracing with all its peaks and valleys.
there just isn't a whole lot you can say while waiting to get mugged, so I kept my mouth shut.

Cant you see
After all this time
That its you I've been in love with...
Always.

Even if your pen is at rest for 5 years
Dont pick it up and force the flow of words through the ink
Because in that moment you have taken a skill and a work of art and turned it into a mediocre chore.

Perhaps if we are to meet again it will be in a different a life and a different body. Perhaps you'll look at me and smile, have a serious case of deja vu, and try again. A true example of second chances.

It's times like this when I curse my body for being broken.
Why if my body is made to carry a child can I not reproduce?
When I have a child laying in my arms, looking up at me with those big blue eyes its breaks my heart.
My body will never be able to make a masterpiece such as this.

How did Heaven drift do far away?
When did California become closer than a place intangible, within your heart?
What do you do when you accidentally followed the red brick road instead of the yellow?
Where do you...where do I, go from here?
Who is there to guide me when my phone accidentally deleted Gods contact?
Why is California closer than Heaven?

When asked why I'm scared to get my licenses:
For a multitude of reasons. Most of them centering around my anxiety. It terrifies me. It makes it hard for me to concentrate and I don't feel too comfortable behind the wheel of thousands of pounds of metal without my focus being on point.

In response to: Please Don't Put Down Your Pen

You may live by drinking the words,
But I thrive on writing the words.
Perhaps "Please Don't Put Down Your Pen" was written in response to my works, but more than likely, it wasn't.
I live off of the written word.
It is my bread and my wine, my world away from the world.
But I have put down my pen.
Returned it to its rightful place,
The navy blue, leather coated, velvet sleeping place of my works.

I have put down my pen.
My pen has been put down.
Euthanized it.
Comatose in its leather casket.

Few are afraid to go to sleep,
But many are afraid to die.

No one knows I skipped my shower last night because I was too depressed to get out of the bed,
that I cried myself to sleep last night because I felt like a dammed *****,
or that I took one look in the mirror and emptied the contents of my stomach last night.
No one knows that I'm not just the smart girl in the front of the class.

Being gay is a disease.
A sickness of the mind
And a corruption of the body
It's a curse to be born with
A damnation to choose
And a life of hell
Bestowed to us by others
Carried on by us.

But we lie, hold our heads up and smile because #pride.