when my mother told me to get out of my own head
it was like the sound of a sudden beat in an alley way
that viscous, sinister bang of broken glass
collapsing in the forefront of my imagination
when she says to stop overthinking everything
I am suddenly reminded of the opalescent lights that corner my thoughts
the world spinning on its axis, turning my head and twisting so tight it pulls at the roots of my hair
when she tells me to get over it
I feel the weight of a textbook crushing my spine, speaking it's scripture to me like the demons that whisper through air vents
so over is not an option, mom
I've never been one to fly above the nest you'll learn that pretty quick
I am a cult of 9's, the tails whipping at the edges of my brain, it's one eye watches me stumble on division symbols, cackling at the ways I try to split my problems in two
when I tell her
I just want to sleep,
she tells me to crawl out of my bed and dance
but how come dance has turned my mind into a music box, a ballerina dances on point inside my head and I reach, and claw at the frayed corners of my skull, hoping to hold her grace
when I tell her my bed is the only thing that makes any sense,
that dreams don't come in clusters any more like the rapid cars on highways,
that they fold over into one,
that for once the calculator in my head isn't multiplying, or dividing,
that for once the number one just means one,
when I tell her that my dreams are filled with clouds of sanctuary,
or that my mind is only asleep when I'm spoken to,
that it climbs out of the covers at night to float high above the stars,
she says that laziness is a sin,
that feeding your exhaustion at 3 in the afternoon is ridiculous
but sleep is all that makes sense
when nothing adds up
so when I tell you I never roll out of bed with a refreshing, minty mind
that sleep doesn't feel like resting anymore
that it feels like sleep
that it feels like lying down after a long day and constantly crashing on to hard pavement
that falling from a 200 story building makes me feel alive
that's when you decide to tell me that I've exceeded all expectations
that I'm a shiny quarter in a sea of dimes
then I ask if you knew that all shiny things break the same
that I rust around the edges just like any other coin
could you understand my restless behavior isn't exotic but exhausted
then maybe you would too, hide behind bedroom eyes

when he asked if I wanted to drive deep into the mountains
if I wanted to go down back roads and across forgotten trails
if I wanted to drive past every lost monument that wasn't littered with the names of children who let go of themselves, etched into the cool pavement with black ink,
I said no,
because those names,
those monuments,
spark of a memory I don't share a psychological bond with
it brings me back to days I didn't walk through
the smell of the paint almost dry
carries me on a breeze that's cold as ice from the lack of my touch.

I didn't live in those memories.
but the stain they leave behind,
the valleys I walked through were covered limb to limb in the acrylic drippings of time
and I am here just moments later
moments after the show began
the finale lingers in the leaves
covering each berry in hues of gray

I didn't live there.
but I won't go further from this spot till it returns.
so when you ask me to run away with you,
I only wish you could hear the sound my nails make, the scraping and scratching,
clawing at years I didn't live to see.
air I wasn't there to breath
footprints that were walked over many times before my arrival.

when you ask me to let go,
I only wish you could hear the earth telling me to stay.

you hold sparkly things like they are candles burning a timid flame
you held me like I was the flame
too hot to hold
and no not like I was some goddess you found in good faith but more like my passion was too strong for you
didn't you know that shiny new things all break the same
my flame may be the size of a cosmic flare but it burns out just as the small match you let go of years ago did
we let our ashes tell our stories for us
we promise to burn and burn and burn
but we are all burned out so what's left
what's so special in the rubble that brought you to your hands and knees?
what made you dig in the ashes?
would it hurt if I told you it was nothing at all?

the female adolescent is beautiful
in black and white
colour loses depth
we see everything like a small puppy
isn't the what you want?
innocence?
naive little girls who can't hold their own?
who can barely stand on their own two feet?
the female is a miraculous creature
she carries herself like a feather on a cool breeze
maybe because she's so frail & the wind is so loud
oh the feeling of hunger pains on a cold winter morning
wondering if maybe im small enough now to feel the wind in my bones
freezing my enamel
wondering how many calories are in toothpaste
or the bleach we swish around in our mouths to whiten our teeth
we eat pills for breakfast
anti-depressant
Prozac
laxatives
Xanax
and hair & nail supplements
so we can look beautiful while dying
dabbling in hobbies like
shopping
buying makeup
fainting while walking to the bus stop
hunching over the toilet while top model plays in the background
shaming our metabolisms for not being able to burn through a tic tac fast enough
yelling at our doctors for claiming that our
"hearts are too big for such a small body"
boys think we dumb ourselves down to make ourselves more appealing
little do they know the number of times we bang on our heads to knock out the unclean thoughts like
food or
sleep
how our brain cells die each time we slap away our frowns & replace them with painted smiles
small dumb Barbie dolls
plastic
easily ripped apart
we hide our pain with concealer
bruised from bumping into counters
purple knees
carrying a rubber band for months till that rubber band is carrying us
slapping our wrists to warrant authority
because beauty has power over everything
measuring the space between our thighs
yanking at the skin that will never leave
measuring the space between the blade and our wrists
remembering that scars will only make it worse
measuring the space between now and never
realizing life is a thing
realizing life would be better without you
realizing you haven't weighed yourself today
gathering your fears in mason jars
collecting your tears & mailing them to places far, far away
the female adolescent is beautiful
but only in black and white

riding in airplanes
the way everything is so small
because usually
I am the smallest thing
not just physically
but everything in my life
seems to stand above me
and for once
I'm higher than the clouds
and everything
just doesn't matter
everything
is just matter
just its simplest form
it's simplest idea
and I'm an angel in the sky
brushing the dust from the stars and the clouds and the planets off my wings

while eating some peanuts

If you were a rose & I were too
my heart would still long for you;
if you bloomed in the summer
& I in the spring
my petals would still search for yours
through thunder & lightning;
if you were to wilt and I were too
then my leaves would still reach out to you;
if you got lost in the shrubbery and I was alone, my thorns would break down garden walls and gnomes;
because if you were a rose & I were too
something inside me,
something I don't understand,
would still call out for you
would long to hold your hand

I softly run my fingers along the covers,
a barricade from the darkness that sits,
patiently,
lurking in the shadows.

I know that I have to get up, have to get up,
because if I don't then that will be it then...
he would have won...

my fears don't overcompensate for my pride, as I climb out from my hiding spot.  

my feet hit the cold tile floor, and it somehow seems to burn,

like how as children, the ground was the lava that you avoided while jumping from couch to chair to couch again.

only this time, I plunged into the lava, knowing it's safer to burn then to freeze in your cold hostility.

I'd rather turn to ash, be a piece of dust in the wind, then stay frozen in time.

my hands ball into tight fists at my sides, anxiety travels around my insides, down my spine, and quickly circles my brain a few times before plummeting into my stomach once more.

I know what's on the other side of the door. the door I've hidden behind for too long. the door that I've slammed into countless faces. the door that I slide down each time I cry. the door that doesn't lock, so I have to put a dresser in front so my demons can't get in. the door... the same door that I'm opening now for the first time in days.

I step out into the dimly lit hallway... and there he stands. ready to kick me down. ready to see me fall. always there to catch my tears, then slap me around for crying in the first place. there he is. only he's something I can't fight back. he's everywhere and he's nowhere to be found. he's in front of me, but also inside me. he watches me while I sleep. he walks by my side down dark city streets. he carries me to the water, and feeds me to the sharks. he feeds me lies that are laced with poison. he has expectations, but won't tell me what they are. he has rules that I'm made to follow, but are invisible to the mortal eye. he's ruining my life, but he's all I am.

he's reality...

and **** can he be a *****.