A Solemn girl, in a red faded hoodie,
Sits outside the door of her classroom.
Crying by the hasty tapping of her foot,
Her head hangs low enough to kiss the ground
Her tongue as a net, fights to capture
Oxygen streaming the air.
But it descends a heavy weight
Into the core of her stomach,
Where the last of her exuberance
Awaits a dismal death of acidity.
Sentences habituate themselves
In the dark spaces between icy eyes.
Relentlessly reminding her ears of the reasons
Why she will never be like all the other
Fluffy cotton clouds
In the immeasurable crystal sky
Why she doesn’t gracefully float
With them, in packs of cloudy friendships.
What she cannot see,
Is the reason she cannot be a cloud,
Is because she is destined one day
To become the sun.

I waited on the front porch,
My knuckles demanded entry,
The door swung open a
Little too fast, or
Not fast enough

His eyes carried a
Salacious appetite,
His lips moist from the
Slow curling of that
Relentless tongue

Before words could escape,
His arms, those steel arms,
With dancing tribals
Caressing his biceps,
They abducted my body
As he stampeded through the house,
Carried me to his satin sanctuary

He threw me down into
A pile of black and white clouds
Who eagerly invited me,
All in the next breath,
He turned me around, pushed
My face into silken sheets,
He had his way, a pirate
With newfound treasure

He yanked my ear
With Rigid teeth,
My neck, his personal towel
For the wicked words that bled
Out the gate of his mouth,
My scalp throbbed from
Malicious fingers glued
To my fragile, mahogany locks

My hands bound in
An unbreakable grip,
So much that I couldn’t get
Rid of the sweat that rained
From his electrifying aura,
It only brought me closer
To seeing stars that I
Desperately craved




Moaning exhalations
Seized my vocal cords,
Tingling sensations
Stung my raw body
As chains of colors
Slashed through me

Sensing my release,
The barbaric pattern
That drove his body,
Turned into a boat
On a stilled lake

He spun me around,
Let my chin rest in his hand,
Our chests rebelled for
The abuse we forced
Our bodies into

I didn’t care,
This man was a feral warrior,
Who shared blends
Of pain and pleasure,
A brutal humanitarian,
He didn’t make me see
Stars, instead,
I saw the whole galaxy

Sitting on this wooden floor,
Suffering from depersonalization.
Glaring at the forbidden door,
Struggling with the mind’s creation.

It’s harder than you think,
Tuning out silent clamor.
Resting beside me it winks,
That ruthless, steel sledge-hammer.

He begs for me to make a move,
I’m pasted to the ground.
As long as I sit, he won’t approve,
And I will take the cowards crown.

I think for a long time
About my situation
Life is leaving me behind
I must move on, despite my frustration

A change in the air shifts understanding,
As clammy hands wrap around the handle.
Like boiling pasta calmly expanding,
Legs extend, and reunite with sandals.

I walk to the door with newfound sass,
With the hammer, no longer perplexed.
As I look upon it, it’s made of glass,
Guess what I did next.

I give my body up
To anyone that asks,
Just to have 30 minutes
Of artificial love unmasked

But when it’s all done,
It’s over too soon,
My face plunges my hands,
Tears turn my fingers to prunes

Like buzzing bees in a hive
They can’t seem to sit still,
On the edge of the loveseat paralyzed
With a defiled heart shaped box to fill

I’ve sampled it all
I’ve tried different styles,
I even bought new makeup
I toned and ran extra miles,
I bought myself new clothes
Hung the old with a noose,
Even with pained effort
They forever call me “loose”

So I starve, I suffer,
I pull food from my stomach,
I beg johns to stay but they leave,
After paying the hotel check

With nothing left I stare
Out into the dangerous distance,
With ripped, lace underwear
That to him, didn’t make a difference

Tomorrow I will try again
To make myself a debutante,
Easy gaunt bodies, and shiny hair,
Isn’t that what all guys want?

I was as young as air is fresh on the first spring day
I roamed around my tired, empty house,
With only the crackling of the radiator for conversation
A combination of boredom and thirst
Motivates me as I waltzed into the kitchen

Purple faded headphones blasted
A spice girls song from around my neck
I stretched my arm out as far as I could
to **** open the refrigerator
The last water bottle in front of me
I took without a second thought

Eager for the cool comfort of crisp consolation
I tilted my head back, allowing a delicate stream to enter
In a brief, abrupt moment, a cigarette
**** meets the tip of my tongue
Immediately I spat out the uninvited guest
my knees embraced the ground
With weak knees and glistening eyes
I begged my toothbrush for alleviation

my teeth were clean, yet the taste evidently remained
It lingered like chalky autumn air
Tasting like rain soaked leaves
It was building a home on the back of my tongue

Desperate I lunged for the freezer
and greedily snatched an ice pop
My trembling hands fumbled with the wrapper,
As smooth saliva slithered down my chin
The first chilling bite sent me into a
cloudburst of algid winter bliss

the foul taste in my mouth
began to tenderly dissolve
Knowing limited time was left,
it clung as if my tongue was a cliff
my hero overpowered the chalky bitterness,
just like that it was gone
I joyfully squealed as the corners of my lips
met my flushed cheeks
the rest of my hours were spent eating Popsicles,
Ecstatic with freedom from a terrible villain
And although it was cold outside,
I felt like a warm summer night

I can’t close my eyes for a second
Without the ground in my head shaking
Collapsing rocks and an avalanche of debris
Forces the faults in my mind to split open
To take in the shipwreck inside my brain
I cannot tell the difference
Between the debris and my own thoughts
Almost like the sun able to shed its light

Sorry, not sorry
That actually made me sick
How calm and poised you may show
Yet your words are filled with arsenic

I hope this makes you happy
You’ve finally made it to the top
******, jolted, and threw your friends
Until they ruptured like soda pop

But my dear there is one thing
One thing you should know
One of these days you will realize
Your inability to grow

Because there’s more than just a job
Or your smarts and good sense
There’s this tiny thing called character
It’s unexplainable, to someone so dense

So enjoy it while you can
Enjoy the “top” you've reached
Just don’t complain when people run
After all, no one cares for a leech
And thank you once again
For revealing your true attitude
Because all it did was remind me
To never trust a dog to watch your food.

Tell me I’m pretty
Tell me my hair is as flawless as a
Newborn’s cheeks, soft as air,
That the color is a gifted blend
Of delightful giggles
Tell me my nose is a vision of loveliness,
Tell me when you look into my eyes, you
Are parasailing over elated bodies of water,
Say that the sound of my voice carries
You from your mind’s darkest places

Tell me I’m pretty
Tell me you love the crescent shape of
My lips, that you grow a second heart
When they call out your name,
Tell me how my savory neck locks
Perfectly into your milky grasp,
How you would run your hospitable
Fingers up and down like a gentle whisper

Tell me I’m pretty
Tell me your cupped palms are crowns for
My adored *******, say they fill
Your throat with heart shaped glass
And make your knees heavy with liquid love,
Tell me that my hands are a never ending
Fireplace, that my fingers are sweet
Marshmallows you dream of tasting

Tell me I’m pretty
Tell me that my stomach, as flat
As can be, drenches your lips with
Melodious thoughts, including my
Bellybutton, your sacred chocolate strawberry,
Tell me the bones in my hips doesn’t turn
You off, but ignites an explosion of confetti
Inside, when grazed by your sensual mouth


Tell me I’m pretty
That my thighs are illustrious thrones
For my bottom, which is nothing short
Of perfectly sculpted royalty,
Tell me when you look at them, you
See a million tiny balloons of iridescent colors,
Soaring towards a celestial vault of clouds, and
That not a chair in this universe deserves me

Tell me I’m pretty
That you can see my soul in
My calves and the luminosity with
Every stride I take,
Tell me my feet aren’t just holding
Me up, but you as well
Say you want to take each toe,
And sing them each a different
Song, as you trace the lines on their
Bottoms, like they’re maps
To my hidden secretes

I am bound by my own eagerness,
Chained with hopeless thoughts,
That one day, however long it takes
In this infinite universe, maybe,
You will finally tell me I’m pretty.

The first time you caught me,
I let my hair fall
As if no one was watching
I let my clip slip
From my unfastened grasp,
Forever imprinting itself
On the somber soil

I sat patiently
In my overwhelmed chair,
Hoping to see a glimpse
Of your carnal sashay
Even for just a moment,
To capture that exhilarating
Flash of your dimples
Ascending to the clouds

I came to you
Hands and ears unlocked,
With what must have
Looked like amenity,
But it was so much more

My cheeks rouged on purpose,
When your majestic voice
Tried itself on humor
Even when it was not your best
I’d laugh, hoping it
Would attest my devotion

When your eyes would drown
I’d peer up into the heavens,
Silently pray for harmony
To bind you with its wings
Made of stardust feathers
And inspiriting seeds of love

Beck and call became my religion,
All so you would have
Everything you wanted without
A second of the mind’s wonder

I made sure your soul,
Before my own,
Was kept shining like
A ******* upon
A field of frivolous dandelions

I pulled strings from my heart
With entombed trusts attached,
And infused them into yours
For your sanity

I made it all the more difficult
When in the end,
Betwixt the morning current
Of approaching calescent rays,
And frigid breaths prey
To the nights turmoil
You still chose her

Your voice is, to
Simply put it, pleasant.
Like strawberries in tea.
A delicious chilling dash,
In a steaming cup
Of cushioned laughter

Most of it is sweet
With perhaps, a
Little bit of ****
That inevitably
Comes with fruit

Words of substance
And manic passion
Drip out of your
Nectarous mouth,
Like maple syrup

Just like the fickle
Strawberries, your
Syrup, it gives me
A rush, the sugary kind…

You are not visiting me
You are staring at murky terrain
Which underneath holds a hallow husk
Turn around in your five inch heels
Make your way back home
If you yearn for my presence
Look into the infinite whirlpool
Of indigos sapphires and celeste
Wave to a mass of white wisps
Remember that I’m always with you

I’m the squeak from your shoe on a rainy day
To instill everlasting confidence
I’m the splash from your cannonball in hot July
To inspire extraordinary inner youth
I’m the generous breeze that blows the same night
To remind you of compassion
I’m your one piece of hair that stays out of place
To show you that imperfection is angelic
I’m the excess of softness in your cotton jacket
To comfort you in dour times

Remember that I will always be your anchor
I will be the reason your Facebook goes blank
When there’s still schoolwork to be done
I will be the flat tire on your pink mini
During that dismal drunken night
I will be the espresso between
Those extensive college hours
I will be that dazzling glimmer
On the ring that he picks out
I will be the tear in your honey-cinnamon eyes
When you say your vows
I will be the one to whisper “grow”
In your unborn child’s ear

So don’t ever go back to that wretched place
You are not visiting me, you never will
From this moment, until
The end of your convivial journey,
I will be visiting you

As he lies on the stiff soiled surface
Wonder entices curious eyes
Like the smell of potent rubbing alcohol
A myriad of animals gather around
Separate races sharing one soul
Who from afar, look like father penguins

They place rings of hues delicately
Around the fallen angel’s contour
He glows like the moving melody
Of the pledge of allegiance
Ribbons of curiosity intertwine
With their innocence
Swallows them like the merciless ocean
Engulfing confessions
Of tainted souls

The angel is envied as they
Ponder what happens next
The last sparkle slowly simmers
While the rain reaches out
To stroke abandoned feathers
His eyes change to pearly white
As he receives his last diploma

Today, my professor walked out,
then back into the classroom
When I was young, excitement embodied my soul
like an embellished Christmas tree of happiness
At that age, I would have created an eminent fabrication,
such as walking back into the room
eventuates a new beginning
or maybe she was melancholy, and walking in
and out of a room eradicates her unpleasant mood,
like when you move the furniture around your house,
in order to adjust a grim, atmospheric emotion

This would have been joyfully amusing when I was young
Thoughts cascaded from my head and blossoming heart
as easy as a raindrop breaking apart
when slamming the ground
this was a lifetime ago
before He jumped off the father train
before I spent all free time vacuuming up
the pieces of mom’s fragmentized heart
now, here I am, nineteen years old
executing endless labor to
keep our house from running away
attempting the role of a second mother
to a younger, disconsolate girl
repeating the same thing every day,
I watch time go by faster than the petals fall off roses

when I was young I would have written this poem
with exorbitant talent
and an eagerness that encompassed the room
with remarkable vibrancy
but I am nineteen now, sometimes I’m fifty
and all I can see, is that my professor walked out,
then back into the classroom

If you let me
I will raise you higher
Than the unfathomable

Let me skate on your pastel skin
Fall in sync with the chromatic melody
That your flesh desperately sings

Coy as a windless night
You drifted into my life
Like the moaning current
Of the possessive sea

Just when I thought the echoes
Of loveless nights would never end
You moved like silk
Parallel to the blackening breeze
Stripped me of shame
Covered with a quilt of confidence
My torpedo stricken body

You lifted me up so high
That I forgot how stones felt
Underneath my calloused soles

And you still don’t know
You have not a clue
That I owe you everything

You ripped out my tongue
Because you didn’t like what I had to say
You wanted silence from the liberation
That projected from my voice
What you forgot though,
Is I still have a pen and paper
And with that…….
I am ear-piercing.

My happiness took a leave of absence
Possibly permanent
I never should have loosened the leash
But freedom heavily begs
Pulls at you like a tie
Constricting around your
Deliciously pulsing neck
It need’s releasing

After, what are you left with?
The desolate vacancy
Lingers like raindrops trapped
Underneath merciless rocks
You can raise the corners of your mouth
Make your tongue dance
Like a puppet bound
To copious strings
Show glistening pearls
That are easy on the eyes
Of a hungry man

But life will never be the same
Unless you capture
Escaped happiness
That slithered from your grasp
And it may be sickeningly cliché,
But you can never stop looking

When you smile, I see love
I feel it when you move your chest.
Up and down, it entrances my own breathing.
Sends me into a world of bursting passion.

I remember the exact tone of your voice,
When you say my name every morning.
And I remember your coffee.
Red cup, two sips every 7 ½ minutes.
Sometimes I envision being that coffee,
I imagine sliding down your throat,
Soothing your organs until your sweet blood
Carries me to warm your heart.

When you laugh I see a city made of gold,
Or a patch of sunlight sneaking through closed blinds.
One day maybe we can take it to the next level.
One day, when you are no longer grading my papers

I wandered away from the path.
Said goodbye to gravel colored gems
Under my stained converses.
It was down by the stream, where I found him.
A small boy with a pocket full of rocks,
And a streak down his face, where a tear ran not too long ago.
You can probably catch it at the end of the stream if you’re quick.
I asked him why his face mimics the river’s current.
He said he had no place to put the rest of his rocks,
Rocks he cupped in red split palms.
I asked him about his empty pocket, who looked
Lonely compared to his brimful brother.
A fierce headshake followed with savant eyes,
He relayed, “That pocket is reserved for someone.”
“Reserved for who?” asked my eagerness.
“Hope.” He whispered.

Smile when you can
To be sad consumes your time
Weakens your spirit

Born into a stale life
She was trained to keep complacent the people around her
And then one day she realized,
She would rather get eaten by moths, than live like this.
That night in the vapid town she lived in, a storm of sounds began.
They tore through her parents
Ripped apart her friends
Shredded every memory of the boy she fancied
It carried her towards the edge of her town
And set her down on the ground.
Vacant, she can remember the words and sayings
That all her loved ones have ever said.
She looked on towards the soot-like dirt road ahead of her.
The road that led away from her home.
Not a sign of life around, no plants, no trees, just that desolate road.
In the distance she saw something very small, vibrant
And as she got closer she discovered a little vine, the size of a dime
Peaking its way out of one of the cracks
That was all she needed to move forward
And so she let the noises carry her away.

Take your clothes off please
Drink my spirit like liquid
Show me how to love

Through the nights of pain
I’ll guide you into the light
Rest on this promise

Rage against the dark
Follow me to find the light
In this blackened world

When a friend has gone
Love is greater than distance
Just remember that