We are all in a labyrinth
Each of us stuck in the never ending twists and turns,
Wandering around aimlessly scouring the earth.

There are monsters there
Hidden among the shadows and corners of our maze,
We are stuck full of fear.

What about the great perhaps?
The hope of something more,
The chance that there is something to progress?

Twists and turns
Never ending hallways and isolating darkness,
There is Freedom to those who yearn.

Straight and fast
They say is the only way out,
Straight and fast out of this horrid trap.

The labyrinth is God's cruel joke
Like mice in a maze,
We are toys to poke.

I want out of this place
The monsters close at my heel,
It's so dark I'm going to suffocate.

I can't stop running
I have to keep moving,
Never stop running.

There is only one way out of this labyrinth
I know what I need to do now,
I need be sweet release of death.

A dagger to the heart
Or a drug overdose,
Something to end this hurt.

I'm free at last
The darkness is gone,
Finally with my last breath.

It's so beautiful here
Here at the end of it all,
Songs of birds fill my ear.

At last I am here
It's so beautiful,
I'm at last free of fear.

No monsters
No pain,
No more twists and turns.

Don't worry about me
I'm happy now,
It's so beautiful here.

My god told me
To **** those who are different.
My god told me
That genocide is efficient.
"Go into their land
And **** every living creature."
I saw it on TV just last week
In a Technicolor double feature.

My god told me
Gay people are abomination
My god told me
To hold back children’s rations.
Rip babies out of parent’s arms
Because they are terrorists
Pay no attention to the heartache
That’s just how my god’s law is.

My god told me
It matters about the color of skin
People can be born inhuman
Depending on the country you’re in.
It’s not as bad to be a dark person
If you stay in dark people lands,
But here in the good old USA they
Only deserve to be migrant hands.

My god told me
What’s sin for other people to do
Is not a sin for me to commit
The criminal things done by you.
My god told me
It’s just fine to cheat on my wife.
As long as I go to church weekly,
I will have a wonderful, godly life.

My god told me
Other people have to wrong idea
About who is god and who is not
And who will burn with the devil
In some place below, where it’s hot.
My god told me
To worship no god but him, it’s true.
Well, I worship Jesus, his misnamed son
So, I’m going to heaven, aren’t you?

The Word was written,
But my word is spoken
In the silence of the sacred,
In the crash of the ocean.

The Word was written,
But still I fumble
With what to think
To remain humble.

The Word was written,
But how does Nature sing!
And how pretty the lilacs dance
And how awesome bubbles the spring.

The Word was written,
But my mind questions,
Scourges the earth for answers,
Philosopher is my essence.

The Word was written,
But how it nods
To the doubt in me
That there are such gods.

Childhood is supposed to be blissful. Kids are supposed to be innocent. Children are supposed to be learning how to face the world, not fighting it head on. I look left and right and see kids with as much pain and fear in their eyes as soldiers coming home from war with half of their limbs blown off. These children have been fighting since day one; some of them thrown to the curb before their eyes even open. They're supposed to have a family they can go home to, but instead they're getting shoved into homes with strangers or family members trying to pick up the slack because mommy and daddy are falling apart and their broken pieces are laying all over the house waiting to cut you open and drain your insides. There are kids who know more about drug abuse than the average adult because they've grown up watching their family stick needles in their arms. There are little girls and boys who flinch at any sudden movement or sound because the only thing they can picture is fists flying at them and pinning them to the ground. There are children who look at trauma and pain as if it's just another day because they've been dealing with drama since the day they left their momma or maybe their momma left them. There are kids you can't touch without them weeping because they've had hands on them creeping to places they scream you can not go but some people just don't understand the word no. There are adolescents that don't flinch at gunfire because they heard the same sound in the bedroom next to theirs before their sibling’s funeral. There are babies with bruises and kids with cuts just because mommy and daddy don't seem to love them enough. Childhood is supposed to be blissful, but instead there's kids taking fistfuls of pills to wash away the pain that shouldn't have been there in the first place. Kids are supposed to be innocent, but instead their lives don't make sense and they grow up to be numb like fog covers their brains all because their upbringing was outright insane.

s.s

Now I’m not usually into politics
But our nation's not a firm apologists of its actions
And it’s making me quite frustrated
Seeing homeless veterans on the street
Isn’t being this small minded just a little bit outdated?
The America that we’re living in has me completely surprised
Has no one in this country ever opened their eyes?
Because our skin tone still defines us
Yeah thats without a doubt
As if the darker your skin gets the less respect your given
Is that what you want America to be about?
Immigrants are given no trust
And now our  president wants to put a wall around us
I think that’s enough
Don’t you?
They say we’re in troubled paradise but all I see is trouble
Cause the number of suicides from last year to now has nearly doubled
And not to mention
That there have been just about 22 school shootings in just this past year
Ever wonder why our country is trembling in fear
Well here’s why
Because our school dress code matters more than our gun laws
Here's why
Because our skin tone determines our value and our worth
Here’s why
Because Gay marriage was only legal just a few years ago
Here’s why
Because poverty is spreading quicker than ever
Here’s why
Because now women get harrassed on the street
Here’s why
Because some people feeling like dying everyday and the only help they’re  given is prescribed medication
Here’s why
Because women are still paid less than men
Now I suggest you go ahead and look outside
And don’t try to hide away from it all
Don’t ignore the homeless man that is dying on the street
Don’t ignore the black woman being sexually assaulted on that corner
Don’t ignore the that gay couple being rejected from their church
Don’t ignore that little girl who has to measure her shorts for school
And we are told that young or old freedom will unfold
But If that’s so
Then why has nothing changed in the past century?
And now let me ask you
Did we make America great again?

i told my therapist about you,
while your lips were still slathered alllll over my body.
i showed her the places we had been,
and all the things we had seen.
i told her what lies underneath that pretty
                                              pretty
skin of yours,
and i told her how i knew.
i spelt out your name as she scribbled it on her cute little clipboard,
i told her about the   first     night
and the      second
and the   fourth
and that time in the closet.
i told her everything,
i really just wanted to   get
                                                  you
                                      out  
of my brain,
it didn't matter if saying these things put me in  sososo  much pain.
because you've  moved   on  so why can't i?
i told my therapist about you,
but i still can't tell you
                                           goodbye.  
i know i'm  s t u p i d,
for holding on this l
                               o
                                n
                             ­    g,
i know it's useless,
for wishing you weren't                              gone.
but my words carry on like a heartbeat
s     l      o      w
steady
                          fast
u   s   e   d
  n    t   a   y
i   keep   keep   keep  breaking and breaking and breaking and
i told my therapist about you.

On the day you kissed another girl,
I booked us a hotel room for your birthday
because I wanted to make you happy.

On the day you kissed another girl,
I was excited to spend my night with you
because I had loved it the last seven nights.

On the day you kissed another girl,
You told me you had exciting things to tell me
because you had been hanging out with her.

On the day you kissed another girl,
You told me in the car, and it sounded nice
because she has problems getting close to people .

On the day you kissed another girl,
I told you it was okay but I didn’t say that I was
because I didn’t want to hold you back from doing what you wanted.

On the day you kissed another girl,
You asked me if I had more self confidence
because you chose me over a girl who you had a crush on.

On the day you kissed another girl,
I slept next to you but I didn’t sleep with you
because your kisses felt like jagged glass on salted lips.

On the day you kissed another girl,
I needed you to hold me when I was holding back
because I was worried you would outgrow my love.

On the day you kissed another girl,
I realized it was impossible to not love you
because you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

On the day you kissed another girl,
I was confident I had lost my best friend and it was all my fault
because I should have told you what was going through my mind.

On the day you kissed another girl,
My heart tore itself apart trying to build a wall
because you tore the old ones down when I let you in.

On the day you kissed another girl,
You couldn’t hear me crying beside you in bed
because I kept it choked up in my throat and held onto you.


I booked us a hotel room for your birthday
because I wanted to make you happy
On the day you kissed another girl.

First Minutes
The discovery sinks in as we spring into action
Adrenaline kicks in, heart pounding, blood rushing.
My mind confusedly putting pieces together.
First Few Hours
Calls are made to paramedics and cops and investigators swarm our house.
Our car goes faster than what is safe as we follow the ambulance as it carried what we would later learn was only her body and a few dedicated paramedics.
A time of death is announced and more tearful calls are made, this time to family and later to friends.
We leave hours later surrounded by a mournful silence.
First Day
We sat on the on the couch in a shocked silence, which was only broken by my calls to her friends, the ringing of the house phone and doorbell.
First Week
The silence was deafening and I had to escape.
So I returned to school after making arrangements with my family for the cremation and shedding my own tears for the first time. I caught the last two classes of the day and began burying myself in my classwork after telling those who needed to know.
First Month
Our own questions were behind every turn as we handled finances, possessions, settling things and celebrating her short life.  
I began to tell more and more of my friends.
Second Month
The pain was still fresh and stinging,
My mother returned to work for the first time.
Third Month
I held back my tears in English.
The play we read reminding me of her and running lines with her the previous year.
Fourth Month
I let it get to me while locked in my room, wishing it was my boyfriend's arms around me instead of my paint-stained jacket as I painted the canvas as black as I was feeling.
Recording my tears for him and watching how he hid his own watery eyes the next day in class as I honored our promise.
Her birthday passed and my mother planted flowers.
Fifth Month
After an uneventful spring break, my dad began staying home from work, unable to handle the weight of his thoughts.
Sixth Month
School ended and summer began and for the first time in what was now fourteen years, I didn't have a sister. I was alone.
Seventh Month
Slowly but surely the pain faded, with the help of scattered therapists, counselors, and mountains of support from family and friends. Summer traditions continued but were never the same.
Eighth Month
The weight of her absence doesn’t rest on my shoulders as heavy anymore.
Ink stains me with her memory. The pain I felt, saw and personified over many pages as we still face it.
My father has returned to work as we each learn to deal with the missing piece of our family in our own ways.
Ninth Month
School begins.
It's my junior year and school is starting for the first time since 3rd grade without my sister. My mother would always take a "first-day" picture, the tradition faded when we attended different schools. Maybe it wasn't so annoying after all.
Tenth Month
It's October, my, our, favorite month. Lost memories run through my head along with missed opportunities. Did we even carve pumpkins last year? Last year we argued about passing out candy but both ended up falling asleep. When was the last time we went to the County Fair? The Mullet Festival? Missed opportunities for silly reasons.
Eleventh Month
The Holiday season is kicking off. Soon it will be Thanksgiving. Her absence is noticeable as I stand amongst my family and celebrate. The only ones who don't ignore it are the little ones, repeatedly asking where she is as the grownups look uncomfortable. I don't know what to tell them.
Twelveth Month
The Holidays are in full swing and I can't help but think of the last one we all spent together. She passed before Christmas. They aren't the same anymore.

One Year
Its hard to believe that a year has passed without her. Her room is the same as if shes just at school. We spent the anniversary doing things she enjoyed, like taking the family dog to the beach and sharing cotton candy.
We haven't moved on, not in the slightest. My mother still cries, I don't think she'll ever stop. But as the days pass I can see how it gets easier and easier for my family to be happy again.