there was an awkward silence
as i walked the islands
as i tiptoed my dry lips
across the tops of your eyelids
& i got my lips wet in the
depths of your retina

as i stepped along the beach again
my hands dipped in your sea of skin
as i breathed in your summer scent,
carried through air like whispered winds,
my fingers played with every pore
& ill linger here forever more

all is sweat, dripping, a shower of last nights beer and Barbie
pouring out this battered skin and muscles aching for rest
only to start again, red wine and lager , at another invite.
My God , this is supposed to be a vacation! I live the life large,
ticking over with my one kidney, the only one that I was born with,
and all I really want to do is scream into the deafness surrounding
my every move, and laugh at the futility of it all, while I fill my glass.

I'm being dragged down
I'm holding my breath
Praying to God
That I'll have something left

I'm tired of caring
About people's pain
When it puts me in a spot
Where I can't remain

I can't be dependent
On others like me
I'm taking control
So maybe I'll see

I'm overwhelmed
And very stressed out
I refuse to give myself
More to worry about

Please don't be mad
Don't think I don't care
Because my huge heart
Is what's gotten me there

I'm taking a break
To pick myself up
So maybe for once
I can feel like enough

It won't be long
Probably won't know I went
I'll be back soon
After me time I spent

West side house.
By: Hayden Mills.

When I was eight, seven, six,
The older boys and girls who lived in my area,
Had tight cliques,
Most of the boys Latino, Mexican,
White, black,
Listening to 2pac and wakaflaka,
"Let ya nutz hang" was the matto for some,
Brother vs. Brother one was ended with the sound of a gun,
One bullet made the heart go numb,
Now this doesn't mean any of us lived in the streets,
Yet a lot of kids my age claimed to be,
Most of us had a warm place and hot plate to eat,
No ghetto,
But the older boys in my area still dressed in black sagged geans,
Black shirts with the white one underneath,
Shaved heads or hats or bandanas,
A chain and a watch,
So the pretty girls would watch.

As I smell the wet concrete
With the rain pouring
I forget how to be
Forget how to think
All I see is rain
Every thought lies in every single drop
And it all so
Simple
One sided
And so I can relax
Releasing anxiousness
Alone
Only waiting to relapse
Once the rain has passed
I will disappear

On nights like these my bones ache
Quivering, swollen ribcage,
Sometimes my insides can't be contained.
Sometimes my hands
Reach out into the darkness
Grasping for god knows what
Maybe you know what
Maybe you are the one part of my past that I need to keep.
Maybe you are the steam from my tea,
My favorite socks,
That perfect song on the radio.
Too many times nowadays
I see you crossing the street.
I see you getting a coffee,
Running by as often as I feel the wind on my face.
Too many times I want to say something
But it catches in my throat
It catches in the webs we always weave
Most days I stop myself before I start.
My head, my heart, it's all a mess
I always put us in the position for drowning.
I can't keep my head above water anymore
I can't find you anymore
If I knew that 3am was the only time you would appear
Maybe I would try harder to swim
But now I get lost in poems
That never have the right ending
Maybe because we never have the right ending
Whenever you pass by the window
I want to throw out a paper plane
To somehow send you a warm smile
I get so cold.
All I do is write because we never get to talk
And god I miss your voice.
I wish I wasn't so confusing
And that we weren't an undefined word
Because maybe then I could know what to say to you.
You are the one part of my past
That I don't want to let go
But I still don't know just how I can hold you.
These sorts of poems
Are the kind I hide under my bed sheets
But on nights like these my bones are aching
And the shaking won't stop
So this time
I will throw the paper plane out of the window
Even if you don't catch it.