As I kiss goodbye
The last days of 17
I feel my youth leaving me
This sorrow is the most I’ve borne
For growing older has never left me forlorn!

As I wave goodbye
My teenaged youth
And into adulthood begin to troop
I realize that I’ve much to learn
Much to live for, much to earn!

As I hug farewell
My dependencies
I relinquish my crown as Dancing Queen
I feel I’ve squandered this prime year
I hope I’m not too old for immaturity, I fear!

As I whisper farewell
To this white winter’s hymn
Where my cup was nearly filled to the brim
Could I look back with wisdom of a sage
I would meditate on more lessons from this age!

As I say goodbye
To the oldest I’ve been
And the youngest I’ll be with my dreams but a whim
I relish all I did as this number
Yet I’ve heard that where adults lie, dreams aren’t left as mere wonders.

It is amazing
How real reality feels
Until something shatters it

I was looking through the stained glass window
When I bumped it with my hand
Fractures spiderwebbed across its surface
Yet I continued to gaze into the great beyond
I’d seal the cracks another day

It is amazing how real reality feels
Until something shatters it

I leaned up against the stained glass window
I hoped it would support my weight
It did, but the splinters grew
Yet I continued to lean inches from the great beyond
I’d fix the what was broken another day

It is amazing how real reality feels until
Something shatters it

I gazed out, far past the stained glass window
I was yearning for the great beyond
But then a glimmer caught my eye
The window
It was so intricate, so colorful, so close

I reached out to touch it

It is amazing how real reality feels until something
Shatters it

I reached out to touch the stained glass window
And the lacework I’d get around to fixing someday
Grew into fractures, valleys, impasses
Snaking across the face of the great beyond

I finally touched the stained glass window

It shattered.

And the great beyond was no longer so bright as I had hoped.

To whomever loves her next-

Make sure you remember to leave out some Arizona tea.

Take her on downtown dates and ask her just why she loves the city lights so much.

Picnic under the stars and remind her that the abyss isn’t as lonely as it seems.

Listen to music far too loud and have dance parties with her when she’s sad.

Remember that she likes to go on walks when she’s upset but she also likes when you run your fingers through her hair.

Offer her all of your shirts; she’ll take each one and wear it to think of you... or because it’s cute.

Always bear in mind that her heart is far more delicate than she makes it seem and you should care for it well.

Know that to you, she’ll speak soft words and laugh loudly and you must cherish every phrase as gospel for she is everything.

Buy her mochi every now and again, preferably red velvet or blood orange and make sure you don’t forget how much she loves when you rub her back.

Ask her if she’s alright often, for she hides her pain behind a veil of bubbly effervescence that seems impermeable until you remember her delicate heart.

Hold her at every chance, and make sure not to knot her hair when you play with it because she won’t let you play with her hair if you tangle it.

Cause her to smile constantly, for it is like the sun and the moon and the stars and the cosmos and all of your favorite things combined into one glorious human being who is happy because of you.

And don’t forget the Arizona tea.

I am powerful.
For I have the mountains in my veins
Older than the trees
Protecting me from all that comes my way.

I am beautiful.
For I have the air in my lungs
Higher than the sky
Clearing away all that clouds my mind.

I am wise.
For I have the stories in my mind
Louder than the opposition
Painting a picture of all that will guide me.

I am driven.
For I have the warriors in my footsteps
Faster than the rivers
Pushing me to keep moving forward.

I am a North Carolina girl.
For I have traditions in my heart
Love in my soul
And a fire in my eyes

I am a North Carolina girl.

If I had an orchard, I’d read beneath trees
If I had virtue, I’d give it where I pleased
If I had a timer, I’d spend my days wisely
If I had more kindness, I’d live less blithely
If I had a garden, I’d sow it with seeds
If I had a forest, I’d write in the breeze
If I had peace, I’d give it freely
If I had patience, I’d make living easy
If I had a brush, I’d paint the world over
If I had drive, I’d fix the ills we’d discover
If I had empathy, I’d nurture with feeling
If I had confidence, I’d shatter the ceiling
If I had a novel, I’d write the right answers
If I had grace, I’d become a dancer

Perhaps I have all of this, and do not realize
Perhaps it’s all within me, lying in disguise.
I know I have gardens and forests and trees
I know I can dance and write with the breeze
So maybe I will
But, perchance I won’t

I’m afraid I will fall.

I don’t have the gall.

Well, as long as I know that when I look inside

I have it all.

I watched as the flakes fell from the sky
Suspended as we held our time fast
In the snowglobe

Frozen minutes made the air thick
Seconds pulled from the future dusted your hair
We watched through the windshield glass

Now I see as your lashes collect our time
Showing you what comes next
Perhaps that is why your eyes sparkle so

The wind stirs the clock
You turn to me as the glass begins to crack
But the snow continues to fall.

Dearest,

       You wrote me a letter once and the last line said

       "I choose you."

       The words were musical to me, but they felt more like they were
       meant for you. I think that is what made them special, that they
       were the words you needed to hear whispered in your ear and so
       your heart opened and whispered them into mine, because just
       maybe I needed them too.
  
       Well I've written some poems for other people before in days
       gone by and I've poured words meant for me into the open hearts
       of other people just to find that their jar was already full, or
       perhaps it wasn't opened in the first place.

       And now I know you're scared because what if their veins hadn't
       been full of predetermined sweet nothings given to them
       unnecessarily by others in this confusingly backwards way? What
       if their jars had been open and accepted my insecurities just to
       sing reassurances into my ear?

       I'll entertain Fate on my doorstep for long enough to tell her
       that I am glad, for if she had allowed this to happen I would
       have been unhappy. Fate crafted the individuals before you
       with a fatal flaw because she knew that I would have
       ultimately been disenchanted, downtrodden, disturbed. And so
       with a gleam in her eye she led me to you.

       And perhaps you'll theorize that this, then, was no choice. Fate
       did it for me, yes? My response is as follows:

       I chose you long before Fate threw her hat into the ring. Or
       perhaps she had thrown it into the ring and blew the wind just
       so on that first summer day when I saw your face, red-cheeked
       and blue eyed, brown-haired and loud-laughing. Even if she
       had, she still let me choose. For Fate only modifies the
       environment, but the heart is a complex, wild thing that is not
       to be tampered with. So when a million fireworks rattled my
       ribcage the second I saw you, Fate smiled. Her plan had
       worked. I did not decide that I would feel a small earthquake
       inside of my body every time I laid eyes on you. But my heart
       chose you. Unashamedly. Instantly.

       Perhaps it once chose the others, too. But upon seeing that they
       were not for me, it paused. It took a while, but it moved on.  
       Then there was you. It was afraid at first, but Fate took it by the
       hand and showed me that your jar was not empty. And then
       you showed me that it contained everything I needed to hear
       within it.  So I did not move on. I chose you. I choose you, still.
       Forever. Until your jar is full and Fate tells me that it is time to
       close the curtains, draw the shutters, lock the front doors and,
       someday, leave the house.

       But something tells me that I will begin to send postcards to my
       former address. And perhaps I'll stumble upon the threshold,
       years later, and find a jar.

       And I'll choose you.

im scared when im with(out) you
im so scared
i love you.

thats all i even know anymore.

i love you.

does this even make sense?
do i even make sense?

i love you!

but how can something so beautiful last?
how can something so lovely be perpetuated forever into infinity and beyond?

forever and ever amen.

i believe the universe is fundamentally good.
i believe you are, too.
i believe this is.

but im so scared.
ive never loved anyone like this
im scared when im with(out) you.
i love you.

will you always love me?
if you dont, that's ok.
i mean it's not but it is because you'll be ok and i will too someday but i love you now and i want to love you forever and you can never ever know how i feel because it's like im stuck watching a never ending film reel of our happiest moments and youre just a movie, just a story for me to tell other people about forever and ever amen and i hope it will never end.

i love you.

im scared.

i love you.

She is the sound of the rain
Soft tapping on the rooftops
An inexplicably calm feeling that you cannot stop

She floods your senses
Rushing gently while you can only float
Who are you, atop the ocean of her gaze?

She is the longing for sunlight
Overwhelmingly beautiful on the brow of a new day
An incredibly powerful feeling that breeds bliss

She alters your heartbeat
Shining intensely while you can only stare
What are you, worthy of being the object of her desire?

She is the most beautiful music
Sending your mind to faraway places
A fantastical feeling that moves your entire being

She quickens your breath
Crescendoing endlessly while you can only listen
Where are you, in the symphony of her being?

She somehow seems to be everything

Your favorite color
Your muse
Your captor
Your love

Everything

She is.

I do not understand
How someone can rob me of air without hesitation
Effortlessly

But here you are
Perpetually taking each breath
Just as I catch it

I do not understand
How someone can transfix me without trying
Easily

But here you are
Constantly hypnotizing me
Before I can break your spell

I do not understand
How someone can captivate me without realizing
Masterfully

But here you are
Forever trapping me in your gaze
Before I can escape

I do not understand
How someone can tell me that I do all of this to them
Wildly

When that someone is you.

hey!

i dont know what im doing actually
im 17
im stressed sometimes but a lot of things make me happy
do i have to know what i want to do already?

im excited for the future
but it also scares me a lot
isnt it crazy how people are just a bunch of contradictions?

isnt that word weird?
a contradiction shouldnt work
so if people work and they are full of contradictions
are they really contradictions?

or do the people really work?
as people, i mean
i dont know

it can be pretty wild man
theres a lot i dont know
sometimes i worry
do i know less than everybody around me?

i know more in some areas
but probably in fewer areas than they do
im so impressed at the ability of humanity to know so much

but we also dont know that much
we make a lot of mistakes
i make a lot of mistakes
so maybe

maybe humanity is just 17

maybe humanity has as many questions as i do.

Red light cast on the side of a hotel
City colors bleed together
Crimson stoplights wail until their throats burn

Red light covers my hands when I write
Cars slice through the summer night
Rouge flushes her cheeks so that she looks alive

Red light shows hollows under your eyes
Chitchat cuts through urban soundscapes
Veins of traffic light up the dark with a golden pulse

Red light reveals the emptied sidewalk
Breaks pierce the air in shared cacophony
The heartbeat of the city spills into a cold and cadaverous evening.

Dear Coshocton, Ohio-

           I remember how warm you seemed. Not in the traditional sense of the word, but in a way that evoked feelings of safety, comfort, and care. In a time before I knew the true meaning of red and blue, did not realize the depth of ideological division, and assumed that nothing existed beyond the eggshell walls of our town, you taught me the meaning of community. Perhaps you were a community to which I never fully belonged, or maybe I just never earned my place, but you are also a world from which I know I will never be apart.

          Coshocton, you showed me the strength of caring for everyone, young and old. Your chipped-paint homes and run-down factories and aged population all represent a better time but possess the undying hope that this better time was only a state of mind which you never left behind.

          I remember the trips to the library, where swarms of sticky-fingered children and their families listened to story time as I clambered to make conversation with people nine times my age, stumbling over my words and speaking with the staggering and lilting speech of one who has not yet learned what not to say and when not to say it.

         Coshocton, you gave me the first memories I ever had, laughing with friends and sledding down hills, wandering around a house much too big for me, wonderfully satisfied with what life had provided and wishing for nothing more than to continue being happy.

          I know I will always be indebted to you, and for that I apologize, for I will never return what you offered. But you are so much more than what I owe you or what you granted me. You are a community, a city, a history, a people, a tiny dot on a map of cornfields and flatlands and run-down highways, a little theater in a dilapidated strip mall, an annual fair in the midst of an ailing community, a possibility for revitalization at the hands of your now-grown youths, a piece of flypaper in a sea of mousetraps, you were a gift.

         You are a gift.

         Thanks for everything.

I had a dream you messaged me
I heard my phone vibrate in the night
Blinked through dusted eyes and saw

Miss you

A small garden bloomed somewhere nearby
The harsh blue sunlight hit my face
And a warm smile was there

Miss you

I grinned because I wanted to say it
But I couldn’t, not first at least
I was afraid you were giving up

Miss you

Written in your effortless slang
The most casual of phrases, stripped of its vulnerability
Like you, but somehow still intimate

Miss you

A reassurance, a calming tide
After the tsunami
A gently rocking wave

Miss you

When I awoke, the dust in my eyes clouded my vision
I could not see, for the sun was too bright
And the warmth on my face was replaced by numbness

I miss you

I did not remember the dream until later in the day
Perhaps it was for the best
My muddled morning mind knew I could not have borne the truth

I miss you

And because you are silent
So am I, but I know I will give in
I just hope you will first

Because I miss you.

My friend-

This is for you

For you who walks in the valley of uncertainty
Tracing the footsteps of a thousand before you
Lighting the way for a million behind you

You will know this path well
Perhaps you will memorize the fissures in the walls
They might line up with your own

I will call to you from afar
But this journey is meant to be alone
And that is okay

It is often dark
But on the best days the cracks fill with light
They illuminate the path and you can see

The tunnel has an ending
Another one waits beyond it
But you will soon know that they are your tunnels

The path is winding and unceasing
But the stretches of light grow ever larger
And you will have time to stop and smell the flowers

It will be okay
For the path is long and dark and tiresome
But it ends and another begins and it ends too

A time will come when you stop seeing the tunnels
And only see

The path.

Lavender words written on perfect lined paper
I wrote you a letter; I’ll save it for later
Lavender tongues speak colorful phrases
I wrote you a sonnet; it only took ages

Lavender words penned in purple glow’d ink
I read you a book, it did make me think
Lavender songs turned clandestine quickly
I read you a poem, you listened with me

Lavender skies turn purple at night
I looked up and saw them; the world was alight
Lavender clouds unleash torrential showers
But here in the woods we’ll hide out for hours

I don’t know what home is

I smell it in the smoke of a leaf pile
I see it in the mist that envelops mountains
I hear it in the soft patting of rain on roofs
I feel it in the sun that kisses skin
I taste it in the swirling dust of roundpens
Most often.  

But once

I smelled it in the perfume of barbecue
I saw it in the land that rolled on forever
I heard it in the crunch of snow underfoot
I felt it in the sting of rugs on knees
I tasted it in the crunch of donut holes

And sometimes

I’ll smell it in the must of old homes
I’ll see it in the color of muraled walls
I’ll hear it in the music played far too loud
I’ll feel it in the love of parts unknown
I’ll taste it in smiles given and received

I don’t know what home is

But somehow I always find it.

Rest now,
For the darkness is coming
But perhaps it is not dark at all
You will discover it soon

It is frightening,
Littered with notes as yet unheard
Perhaps dissonant in key
You will discover it soon

Rest now,
For with the darkness
Comes a sunrise
You will discover it soon

It is beautiful,
Because it is the next step
Maybe you will enter into morning's golden light
You will discover it soon

Rest now,
For the darkness is not known
But the unknown is not evil
You will discover it soon

It is new,
This curiosity we all must meet
It is merely another chapter to be read
You will discover it soon

Rest now,
For though I cannot go with you
I will be here knowing
You will discover it soon

Rest now,
I will meet you on the yellow hillside
Past the cloak of darkness
You will discover it soon

Rest now,
I will wish you well before you go
Perhaps it won't be as we dream it
You will discover it soon

Rest now,
For I have known you for a time
You must do this alone
But I am here

I am here

I am here

And you will discover it soon.

I’m not a pessimist.

But I hear the drumbeat of inadequacy
Keeping time to the echoed songs of a forgotten world.

I’m not a pessimist.

But I feel the bass of a billion irregular heartbeats
Ticking to to the sound of a broken clock.

I’m not a pessimist.

But I see the angry smashing of waves on skin
Crashing with the clicks of a slowing metronome.

I’m not a pessimist.

But I smell the metallic scent of a broken machine
Grinding to a halt while the societal dance speeds up its pace.

I’m not a pessimist.

But I taste the bitterness of infinite gray nowheres
Drifting endlessly while the band plays on.

My first poem did not come to me
Shrouded in darkness
Not shuttered with wisdom
Nor carved with sharpness.

It walked with others
Hazily defined
It breathed my sorrows
It glimpsed my mind.

My first poem did not leap
Across the abyss
‘Stead wand’ring through meadows
Tracing Earth’s kiss.

It read all old memories
Built a new bridge
It called to the past
It raced through the mist.

My first poem was imperfect
Shapeless in ruin
Thin bone of poems proper
But extremely human.

With you, I want to be gentle.
I ask only that you do the same for me.
I will touch you carefully,
I will leave you if you ask.

With you, I will be gentle.
I ask only that you do the same for me.

I will hold your hands delicately,
I will speak softly and listen well.

With you, I hope to be gentle.
I ask only that you do the same for me.

I will protect your heart,
I will hold your hopes and your sorrow.

With you, I know I’ll be gentle.
I ask only that you do the same for me.

I will learn your story by heart,
I will keep it safe inside.

With you, I swear I’ll be gentle.
I ask only that you do the same for me.

Feelings
They come trickling down
Washing like waterfalls wonderfully whispering white lies in your ear
“Why don’t you listen?”
Enticing,
“Come closer, dear.”

Feelings
They come angrily,
Stomping like soldiers soullessly
hurling daggers at your heart
Waiting for it to start
Or or maybe to stop
Beating

Feelings
They envelop you in their embrace
Eagerly reaching like they need attention
or they will die
Yelling
Until everything else
Becomes a lie

Feelings
They are why we live
Holding fast to us like they will never let go
We know they won’t
For fear of leaving us lost, wonting
In a world without beauty

In a world without

Feeling

What is happiness?

It’s cutting the brownies right as they come out of the oven
and burning your tongue on them because you ate them too soon

but it’s worth it.

It’s the leathery scent of the old saddle you used to have
dusted with memories that make your eyes wet so you wait to blow the dust off

and it’s worth it.

It’s the puffy red wrists in winter
after your gloves came off and you didn’t put them back on because they were too cumbersome

but it’s worth it.

It’s the hike that made you fall and skin your knee
but you kept walking because it was so beautiful

and it’s worth it.

It’s saying ‘I love you’ for the first time and not even caring if they say it back because you mean it with all of your heart and you’re still scared

but it’s worth it.

It’s riding a bike own your own finally even though everyone else has known
for years and you’re a little behind and ashamed to admit it

and it’s worth it.

It’s friends and laughter and adventures
and telling your deepest secrets
and hearing theirs and hoping to heavens they won’t tell

but it’s worth it.

Happiness is many things.

and it’s worth it.

Sometimes the mirror speaks to me.

Shh... listen closer

Can you hear?

Sometimes when I walk by, it speaks in tongues I once did not understand

But now I speak the language fluently.

‘Not good enough, not good enough.’

Sometimes when I speed past, it grabs me, shaking me urgently

I must know this information now, not later!

‘Look at yourself. Just look. What happened?’

And now it has me trained. I stop whenever I pass it, for I know it wishes to speak.

Sometimes I even talk back.

Sometimes I simply walk past.

Until it calls me again, declaring in its mocking tone:

’We need to have a talk.’

Enamored.

Oh, but what does it mean?

I am enamored with you.

In which way?

Enamored.

E-N-A-M-O-R-E-D.

Verb; be filled with a feeling of love for.

Or

Have a liking or admiration for.

You are enamored with me.

In which way?

I know that I am enamored with you.

And I know in which way, too.

But this word,

This word that so easily slipped off my tongue,

Now catches in my throat.

We are enamored with each other.

But in which way?

What do I see when I look in the mirror?

I am made of measurements.

I measure the space between my thighs,
The width of my arms,
The time since I have last worn my glasses.

I measure my achievements,
The weight of my successes,
The heaviness of my failures.

I measure the sharpness of my jaw,
The veins on my hands
The blue in my eyes.

I measure my intellect,
The depth of my vocabulary,
The numbers on my report card.

I measure humanity,
The accomplishments of others,
The good and evil of society.

I measure myself,
My looks,
My mind,
My intentions,
My actions,
My triumphs,
My shortcomings,
My reputation,
My future,
My past,
Me.

The difference between

Love

and

Infatuation

Is that love is an impossibly bright sky, but it is also the night sky

It is a stormy day, but it is also a sunlit afternoon,

It comes in flavors that we have not yet tasted,

It completes you in its presence and in its absence it is hollow,

Infatuation is the bright blue in the sky, but it is also the darkness of night,

It is the storm itself, and the sun burning above,

Its flavors seem sweet at first but quickly become sour,

It is a perpetual feeling of never enough,

It does not complete you,

But we all must feel it, for love and infatuation are often confused,

But I assure you,

The mask infatuation wears is not love.

Hello, good boy.

I remember how you always listened.
You held my secrets close.
I told you the twisted words that rolled off my tongue,
And you never flinched.

I remember how you always heard.
You were a diligent friend.
I taught you about the planets, the Earth, the stars,
And you never left.

I remember how you took your time.
You never were too quick.
I hurried you sometimes, restlessly waiting,
And you were always patient.

I remember how you showed your power.
You knew when to choose your battles.
I smiled at you, the second-in-command,
And you ruled kindly.

I remember how your wise soul showed,
Your eyes never hid it.
I was always transfixed, trying to find out who you’d been,
And you told me you were simply... here.

I remember how I read to you.
You always seemed embarassed,
I spoke the word of fables gone, your herd gathered round to hear,
And you casually stood apart.

I remember how I failed you.
You unceasingly forgave me.
I messed things up, I was angry with you,
And you always showed me it was okay.

I remember how I cried to you,
You always let me do it.
I did not succeed, I learned atrocities,
And you brought me endless comfort.

I remember how we struggled together,
You always gave 110%.
I didn’t always believe it; I gave less myself,
And you never stopped trying.

I remember how we were imperfect,
We both failed at times.
I lost confidence, you misstepped,
And we always worked past it.

I remember how my memory fades,
I still cannot express you.
I try to grasp what little I have,
But you transcend words.

and here comes the rain
        
        it
        
drips
        down

the
       petals

leaving the damp contrails of its journey behind

       falling

ever
      so

slowly
        
almost achingly so
    
     it

still
     brings

life
    to

all
    it

touches

and despite the teary-eyed greenery it leaves behind

it makes the whole world

beautiful

I                                          enough.
  don’t                        good
          care              are
                for     you
                    now