Its like that perfect sweater
That keeps you warm on icy days
Like the salty ocean water
Hugging the shore with its waves

Its like that toasty winter fire
That heats your chilly hands
Like the never ending thrill
When you see your favorite band

Its like a little childs laughter
That keeps a smile on your face
Like the sweet soulful music
That wraps you in embrace

-ARI

I don't belong here
and I don't mean this town I mean this earth
I'm not quite made out to be human you know?
if we were all created from a couple chemical reactions and a huge burst of light at some center of the universe I must be going home when I die
and I want to go home
I am homesick
for a place I barely remember
but it is nowhere here
no point on a map I can put my finger on
no road to get me there
and you know
I wouldn't be me without my sadness
it's as a part of my like my arms are
sadness is what makes me interesting
and I think thats why
no one ever notices
how sad I am
my mom didn't check off the box labeled depression when I went to the doctor the other day
and I didn't have the heart to tell her
sometimes I feel so sad
I feel so sick
but I'm laughing
and every breath hurts me and
oh how I want to go home
but it makes me interesting
makes me unique
who I am
not the sadness
just what it makes me do
I talk to people as if it's the last time I will see them a lot
drive a little too fast
I tried to commit suicide once
and I never did
I was pulled off a bridge
screaming really
I wanted to feel whole if only for a second before I hit the water
but I'm not afraid anymore
I think about dying a lot
but
I don't make solid plans
or write letters
and sometimes I still think about throwing myself off a bridge
or in front of a car
sometimes I write sentences, just single sentences
to leave when I am gone
and sometimes I want to write a suicide book
and other times the only suicide note I need is your name
but I don't
because I made a promise to a boy that left me that I would stay
the problem with being homesick
is we are taught that eventually you go home anyway
but

I'm not leaving

Have love ever been easy to deal with sympathy?
Just so, Her iron lung breathing calamity of apathy
Beyond eyes and words ,her beauty spoke
Kindle once vital, now perish slow with smoke
Suffocation cannot feel this good, can it?
a crime of love shall never see acquit


A poetess sung for me a poem of love
Soft words - with stings of  venomous dove
Being so deluded by some natural artsy
Dreams woven on silent obscure spree
Cold touch of her once warm soul
Shattering pieces  now never be whole


Poignant themes of once happy souvenir
Whispering breeze of lonely December
Brings me smile then tears falls down
a deep breath sigh and again I avow
holding onto the keepsake- my folded hands try
Squeezed by broken dreams- once more I cry!

I come from
Bleeding gums
Skinny arms
And ketchup smothered chicken
From dyed blue hair
And chipped black nail polish
From
"There’s no use crying over spilt milk"
And
"You’re not the first person to fail history"
I come from
Cracked bathtubs
Cracked skulls
Crooked teeth
Oversized sweaters
Overly sweetened tea
From diabetes
Breast cancer
And depression
I come from black heads
And pimples
Frizzy hair
Half filled journals
Half empty coffee cups
Purple lipstick
Scars from dropping the oven mitt
Seared flesh on wrists
I come from
Cigarette smoke curling under summer skies
From fake fire places
Freshly baked cookies
Poetry in the form of blood cells
From mental hospital stays
From blinding headaches
That vibrate through teeth
I come from
Pentacle necklaces
And pearl bracelets
Apple perfume
New York City visits
I come from
Trees
And grass
And flowers
I come from the beach
From salty air
And sandy toes
I come from everywhere
And I’m going nowhere