I’ve been living in my mind,
Flowing dresses and pretty eyes,
Ripped jeans and crooked smiles,
Our laughter and three hundred miles.

I’ve been living in my mind,
Echoes and shadows grow inside,
A single raindrop from a fearful sky
Turns into a raging ocean that turns you blind.

i'm just a little much for everyone i love,
amongst a bouquet of silver flowers,
i'm a lavender foxglove,
growing sideways and upwards.

{
i tried to grow tall enough to be another star in your sky,
but the azure ripples of your universe became a whirlpool,
pulling me under, under the piercing night,
yet, somehow, my roots held strong to the earth around me.

i tried to grow my roots deeper into the rusty ground below,
but my leaves grew weak and my stem became invisible,
and your sky released a tornado of snow,
and yet, somehow, my flower petals pushed forward.
}

i love myself, i love the people in my life, i love love,
in a field of waving white wheat, i am a violet foxglove,
against the soft blue sky,
you can see me reside
in my own space,
by my own grace.

we came so close
to being close

but you disclosed your true self
so i closed the book and put you back on the shelf

silver puddles form like mercury drops in your shaking hands.
silver droplets drip over your collar bones like fine jewelry.
silver pools reflect in your eyes with mesmerizing stillness and movement.
silver drapes over your whole, your whole, your whole, you're whole.

expansive, fragile, shapeshifting,
my ribs crack open
so you can see the golden flecks inside me
and cry glass tears on my collarbone
the sharp edges of your faux diamonds scar me
but they are kinder than the rings that circle my heart

i just put on lipstick,
the scent of it reminded me of crayons,
the nostalgia instantly clicked:
a stack of books wrapped in plastic and nylon
awaited me as i floated towards that which held me,
my spindly fingers reached out and turned open pages
that whispered reminders of the birthmarks on my feet,
of the early morning tea traditions my parents continued to this very age,
of the unbelievable love that wove a basket that carried us,
through the times when the trees did not grow green paper
when i questioned whether i was superfluous,
and when we couldn't see through misery's vapor.

my past reminds me of home.
i am not home right now (i am home right now).
i am learning it is okay.

i am okay.

i am home
but i am not

i am standing instead,
in the middle of a highway,
car headlights wink, gold and red,
as they fly by through the grey haze.

i am a celestial moon instead,
orbiting unsteadily at an odd angle,
tiptoeing around these flower beds,
daisies, dandelions and dahlia tangles.

i am not home
and i am.

and it is okay.
it will be.

her tattered dress barely held her together,
lose strings twirled around her fingers,
lose buttons tucked behind her ears,
and words tumbled from her pale spotted lips
as she sang a melancholy tune:

'it will all come crashing,
like expensive rubies
& irreplaceable wine glasses'

home is sweet, home sweet home,
but how will you ever find who you are,
if you never go out and roam?

...he believes not the man after whom he was named...

i erased this poem.
out of embarrassment.
oh well.

I imagine the aftermath
And the breathlessness
Of doing the unthinkable,
Of tearing down my ship's mast,
And of nearing the imperfect kiss,
And of creating perfect trouble;
The stormy sea I ride from the past
And the beautiful things I will miss
Contain the truth I left in the rubble.

we all would like to sit upon a balcony,
overflowing with leafy companions,
and look out into the city, absently,
at the skyscrapers that fill the canyons;

and we all would like to float upon dark blue seas,
our tanned backs skimming the cool blue,
the sun's golden locks tickling our faces like a tease,
and, blissfully, there is nothing to do;

of course, we all would like to laugh uncontrollably,
with our beautiful friends with wild, beachy, bronze hair
and with bejeweled fingers that hold onto ours tightly,
while the loud sounds of the living city permeate the azure air;

nevertheless, we all would like a dark, rainy evening,
our warmth exponentially increased by a knit turtleneck,
and above, the moon emanates its blue light, pale and pleasing,
while we read a book about chance meetings, secret gardens, and a car wreck;



we all would like beautiful things, but life is more meaningful with the untimely thunderstorm, the unwanted acne, the enraging traffic ticket, unexpected endings, and much needed beginnings;
we all would like to not be alone in these things,
and we never need be alone in these things.

i have taken the idea of you
and i have crumpled it up again,
threw it into the trash can



i have pulled you back out
and i have smoothed you out again,
hung it over the mantel piece

You are but a shadow of a thought.
A thought has no weight nor sound
and you are even less that that;
you are a shadow, bold and round.
Your substance is less, and yet...

it is more

Because you are a shadow that will not stop;
Yes, you, you will not stop haunting me
Every night when the lights are bright
And every morn when I can hardly see.
You weigh more and more in the ethereal plane...

i wish you would leave

Because I am an independent woman
And I dislike this feeling of waiting,
Waiting for something that will never happen,
As I sit, fidgeting, in the realm of the universe creating
Nothing out of nothing out of nothing...

but i still wait for something

Because I am sentimental in my needs
And because I am too afraid to let you go,
Even if I never had you in the first place.
Your place in my mind is like footprints in the snow,
they come and go, then come again...

*because you continue to wander my mind

The majesty of darkness
And the anticipation of coming light;
A watercolor painting of silver shadows;
The questioning songs of morning birds;
A sky like a crystal bottle filled with a clear sea;
The light splashing across the horizon;
The earth spins to welcome the sun,
Who is late to receive her guests;
The dancing fire set on my muddy eyes;
The opaque clouds escaping my lips;
The crisp and chilling air lacing around clean lungs;
The sun arranges her skirts and rises higher;
And this was my morning.

She's a portrait that comes to life
Every night
And we can't catch up.
She's sheet of music that breathes
And then leaves
Stars flying behind us.
She's a Polaroid that makes you yearn
For a morn
Shrouded in floral musk.

I feel separated and far away.
I watch through a glass ball
And I guess that's all there is to say.

The gray clouds are a swirling mass.
And yet the eye of the storm is so far,
How many miles till we pass?

I am trapped in a cage
And it looks vaguely like a house,
A house set with fires that rage, rage.

My smile is a shield that protects you;
It protects from the ice of my heart.
Everything true is false and false true.

Or so he says
In his craze
And the years passed as days.

And I was the broken diamond
Left in the carnage
Where my beginning met my end.


BUT


I believe in strength
And that I have what it takes
And I have gone to every length
To mend every break
And scar on my glass ball
So that one day I'll see the world
And answer that distant call
Within a stormy, shining girl
Who is me.

So breathe.

Tú, siempre actuó inocente para fingir que no existen problemas,
Yo, siempre estoy pensando sobre los problemas.
Tú, siempre estás sonriendo,
Yo, soy un ciclo de lluvia y brillo.
Tú, eres una esfera perfecta con la felicidad y la alegría,
Yo, soy un esfera con cráteres y cicatrices, como la luna.
Tú, eres un rio con agua claro y brillante,
Yo, soy un océano con tiburones, ondas, y mil perlas.
Tú, sólo una etiqueta para el mundo,
Yo, tengo un multitud de sentimientos y pensamientos.
Tú, eres un ratón silencioso,
Yo, soy un pájaro, que canta y que baila con la naturaleza.
Tú, siempre tienes miedo de los que eres más grandes que tú,
Yo, soy una ser humano que es valiente, pero escondido bajo una concha.
Tú, eres un reflexión del mundo cruel,
Yo, tengo un corazón del oro y sal de mar.
Tú, siempre estás confundido acerca de lo que es la vida,
Yo, tengo on voz pequeña que sabe cómo navegar estos mares rotos.

eyes like a secret
revealed only in the sun
hands like a mystery
untold by the touch
smile like riddle
uncoded only by one

hidden in the green mirror
are blue eyes
exploding with quiet suns
scattered with silver sparrows

Despair,
Its imminence presented by
Gray hairs,
Slowed breaths,
Stooped body;
And its possibility hidden by
Bold movements,
Exploding eyes,
Powerful songs.

Desperation,
Its nearness noted by
Promises,
Promises,
Promises,
And terrible hope.

Time,
Its absence realized by
zu spät zum;
which is the state
of being too
late.