I know of a land
where none but I have been
Not a land between seas
but a land of within
The familiar becomes fear
A home becomes a stage
The room whispers empty
I yell back in rage
The walls have me captive
Outside is but lore
For the clouds upon the ceiling
send floods through my door
A plea sent through the waves
for mere grace to stay afloat
But the sound heard in the gap
are the thoughts inside my throat
Like running from a bee
when you become aim of its sting
The past will pierce you again
with the daggers that it brings
The moon sings the stars' ode
My soul beside me it lays
for no one else would
I bid goodnight from the grave

you said that
you love it when it rains.
little did you know that
it rains
whenever i shed a tear.
maybe that's why
you seem happy
even if i'm hurt;
you enjoy
whenever i cry.
and i'll always end up
exchanging your sorrow
for my euphoria,
in hopes of you
loving the rain—
me, my tears, and my pain.

Once I was in a place to shed a tears
of the silent scream I don't let anybody know
to watch them all laughing,
as the agony I feel
for the invisible tears
rolled down my cheek

they laughed at me,
for always
at the sight of myself
and that's the truth
for what the lie is
I smiled at them in return

I am living as static
amongst a chaotic mess
I am living as shy
amongst a world of socialites

my sister,
she is living as charisma
she is living as the current

I am living as a shadow,
not to her, but something else
I am living in fiction,
as she makes them laugh with brilliant, life-time diction

she is living as she goes,
doing all things she knows she knows

I am living half; she's whole
I am living as a fool

she is living half; I'm whole
she is living as a fool

I am living as I go
doing all things I know I know

she is living as a shadow,
not to me, but something else
she is living in fiction,
as I make them laugh with brilliant, life-time diction

I, her sister,
am living as charisma
I am living as the current

she is living as static
amongst a chaotic mess.
she is living as shy
amongst a world of socialites

I needed
naked crayons to color
scrunchies for my 3-inch pigtails
loose teeth for one soggy dollar.

I would
strip the paper skin from wax
pull my short brown strands
just about break my jaw

I was a child.

the fuzz to your hair
is too soft for its share
your bags, the creases of your eyes
are pink like rising skies
the freckles about your arm dance about my heart
they look like stars
your eyes are bright; they're fireflies
too beautiful to contain to jars
and
your lips are purple
taste of spearmint and maple
the crease of your brow smiles with your face
not a single trace of a laugh line
but
you laugh like the ocean
first, your laugh is calm
but as it approaches the shore
it is sure to swallow me whole
your smirk, though half
makes me whole
and
your lips are purple
taste of spearmint and maple