I guess I’m not as good as her.
I guess I don’t deserve a chance.
I guess I’ll be okay.
I guess.

forcing myself through
poetry as my glue
holding onto you
but you’re in my way.
Move.

I want to wake up.
So I try to sleep.
Counting sheep,
one two,
what more can I do?
Three four,
please don't fight anymore.
Five six,
I'm going to be sick.
Seven eight,
I start to hyperventilate, screaming the only way I know how
without making any sound.
I breathe in and out, crying out,
'I don't want to hear it anymore
don't make me listen to it anymore
why are you making me listen to it more?'
I pray to a God I'm not sure exists,
I ask for forgiveness,
I beg and plead Him to take my family on a leash
and lead us to victory.
I can't afford to lose my family.

Sometimes I miss you
But why waste precious brain space
Thinking about trash

Guilt:
The powerful emotion that encourages us to rethink everything. We’re never sure who it belongs to, because sometimes everyone harbors it inside, and other times, no one does.
Acceptance:
Ambiguous, in the aspect that sometimes we convince ourselves we’re accepted something when we really haven’t— and that instance actually aids the acceptance process.
Love:
Melds our hearts together, melts them, and crushes them in the end, in a cruel twist.
Crush:
Someone we almost/maybe love, that has the potential of breaking you, fixing you, or straight up crushing you.

I’m a broken record
Saying the same “my life just *****” over and over again
Without bothering to change the record
because the record player lies just out of my reach
Fingertips grazing
Yet they can’t wrap around the edges to draw it nearer
Even if I managed to get a hold on it
Finding another record is a whole other problem.

maybe you needed a guardian angel
and that’s where he is now.

Hey dad.
I love you 3000.
But you’ll never get the reference.

pity drips like warm syrup
reluctant— almost,
sweet to sender,
onto unwelcoming pancakes
flat, absorbing all they can
always leaving extra around
(they can’t possibly hold all there is to offer.)

She guarded her heart with her head
Because she’d rather have that hurt instead
It’s easier to rationalize away her feelings
Rather than actually allow herself to feel things

Her heart tries to speak
It barely squeaks
Her heart is too weak
So she keeps the key

And when her head hurts it retreats in fear
But her heart is so shriveled that no one can hear
All of her issues exposed, as was guessed
She believed them, but now doubts this was best

Unable to defend
She meets a dead end
Locked in cement
She follows the same trend
Til her bitter end.

namelessly, I am a lighter.
used to ignite, and then ignored.
namelessly, I am a writer.
picking up a pen whenever I’m bored.
namelessly, I am a heater.
warming those around me in their darkest hour.
namelessly, I don’t work well either:
and sooner or later I’ll run out of power.

I punch holes in my ears
To mask the pain of the holes in my heart
That she created when she left.

The bags under my eyes are so packed
that they’re ready for a two week long trip to Japan
The weights on my eyelids are so heavy
that they’re lifting 15 lbs dumbbells as a 5th grader
The crunch of my voice is so thick
that it’s driving on a gravel back road at 10 mph
My body is so exhausted
that it may as well be buried six feet under without a bell tied to my hand.

Even when the moon is new
And absent from our vision
Fear not; it is merely hidden
Please don’t be misconstrued

We have phases, too—
Maybe good, maybe bad— who
Eventually will end when the universe decides to do so.
Whether happy or sad,
Your cycle will renew
and you will be ****** into a better place,
At the hands of fate,
Towards your ultimate destiny.
You’re right where you’re supposed to be.

Wherever you are, everything happens for a reason
Even if right now you’re feeling defeated
The phases will come and go as they please
But ultimate happiness is the guarantee.

I internally write down my love, compassion and such
stuff it all into a bottle, and unknowingly push in the cork— no, shove
Later, it washes up on a beach but without the message I put in
but rather angry words, scarring words I had always meant to keep in
The words reach everyone that was never intended to hear them
In fact, I never even intended to breath them
But now that all my anger has been expressed
Saltwater tears are all that’s left.

You used to love the beach, just like you used to love me.
Well, I mean you probably still love the beach.
When you told me you loved the ocean and the waves and how you wanted your little riptide tattoo
I vowed to you that I would take you sometime.
Even though I never got the chance to, I still imagine what our trip would have been like to this day.
I picture us building a sandcastle.
We shape it with our hands because we we’re to lazy to buy buckets.
As we build the base we talk about the dining room where our king and queen eat gluten free pizza and chocolate,
We sculpt their bedroom where they will lay and watch cheesy movies complaining about the bad acting,
We picture the bathroom where they will make bad makeup looks on one another and dance in the mirror
And when we’re done, we’ve built a castle made for the most imperfect of kings and queens.
A castle with empty hallways but lively rooms,
Except the queen’s study where she hides her insecurities in the folds of old notebooks,
Or the king’s bedside table where an old box lives covered in dust except for a few fresh fingerprints, holding faded Polaroids tucked away
In a slightly more careful fashion than the way he tucks his wife into bed.
But us building, we claim not to see the secrets
They’re too hidden in plain sight for us to notice
So we focus on the chocolate and bad acting and dancing.
And then
You complain you’re tired, even though your eyes are wide open
I say I’m hungry, even though I ate an hour ago
And as we walk away
neither of us notice the waves crash over our already flawed creation.

you make me want to burn mistletoe
I hope you slip on melted snow
I’d say you’re getting coal for christmas
but you deserve something more worthless.

my habits have been away as long as you have
i don't pick or bite my nails in half
seeing as you've been a goner
i don't bounce my leg any longer
ever since you beat it
i stopped stress eating
because you shattered my heart in my chest
i'm on my phone much less

and you claimed it was all for the best
at the time, i never would have guessed.

Thought we were on the same schedule
I guess your watch was a little ahead of mine
Overwise you wouldn’t have left so early.

drowning in honey is incredibly easy.
unless you know it’s honey.

why would you settle for anything less
than passion
why would you want anything other
than madness
why would you desire anything except what you
can't fathom
wouldn't you be intrigued by something you
can't imagine?

wish I could tell you
the feeling’s not mutual
give up on me now

When I was 15, I learned promises can be empty.
They’ll open the door,
Lead you inside.
Look you right in the eyes and lie.
They’ll promise you, “I’ll be back.”
Then they slam the door and all will go black,
Leaving you waiting, yearning for their light.
After a while you’ll learn that they’ve left you for good, and wonder:
“who gave you the right?”
Then whisper:
“who gave you the right?”
Then cry:
“Who gave you the right?”
Then scream:
“WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT?”
While your voice and heart crack,
But the simple fact is,
It doesn’t matter now.
Now, it’s not about them. It’s about you.
They left. They’re through.
Pick yourself up, put yourself back together.
Forget about them, throw away the control they had over you before, find the key, twist off the padlock and step through that **** door,
And promise yourself not to go back there anymore.

Stop trying to make other people like you.
Because the only people that deserve to be around you are those who liked you before you started trying.
They like you for your raw self, when you weren’t pretending or acting like someone you aren’t.
If you have to pretend for someone, they’re going to fall for the part you’re playing, and not really you.
You can’t keep up your act forever.

Out on a drive with me
It all starts out the same
The second that I turn the key
It turns into a game.

First, on the radio:
The song has to be just right
Especially not advertisements,
Sometimes they keep me from sleeping at night.

After that, I sit and think
And think and think some more
But the more I think, the more I ask
What is this all for?

Hey! No time for crises!
Let’s play games!
How many cars can you stack?
Anything to keep my brain tame.

But I’ve already thought of that game
So many times
I don’t want to play that game anymore
Repetition is what I most despise.

So I think my thoughts again
They’re even louder now
Stop stop stop stop
But how how how?

My pressure increases on the gas
Zoom zoom zoom
But it’s not because I want to go fast
It’s my head: boom boom boom

It pounds with the same thoughts
Over and over— yet
I can’t just think about something else
I can’t let myself forget

What if I crash the car?
What if I die tonight?
Stop stop please stop
Filling my head with more fright

I take a different way home
I’ve taken that one too many times
Even though it’s a little slower
And there are way too many lights

The water dripping down my neck
Is Chinese water torture
So wipe it off quickly quickly NOW
before you subject yourself to more torture

Torture torture
Driving like this is torture
Stop grinding your teeth, it hurts
You’ve been doing it since your departure

Honest to god, I want it to stop
The repetition is too much
I hate it
I hate it
I hate it
Make it stop.

It comes in waves, but waves no one else feels; not water waves.
I am hearing frequencies no one else can hear, and they are so powerful that they knock me down, face flat on the ground.
When I try to explain,
They all claim they understand but then how are they still standing?
The particles compressing and stretching are stressing my mind, yet my body cannot muster to fight.
I have almost given up flight.
The air isn’t clear enough,
not quiet enough,
I lost hope and I can find it
It’s been rough but no ones buying it
And that’s when I find myself drowning in the sound no one else can hear.

If you find yourself wanting a sign
So you don’t go on by yourself
Don’t you think that wanting a sign
is proof that you should within itself?

what’s the ******* point
one day you could be perfectly content
the next everything could be ripped away
if everything is going to go to **** anyway
if you know your happiness won’t last
why does it even matter.

When I was 13, I learned what manipulation felt like.
I may not have noticed it,
because I was in too much middle-school-love to see that he loved seeing my jealousy,
loved to trick me,
loved to trip me down the rabbit hole over and over again,
with no end within my scope.
I didn’t even know how to cope,
because it didn’t seem like I was supposed to.
Taking a step back and analyzing is the first step of taking your life back.

If time and distance tear us apart,
I have to know if it was me or your heart.
If the sand in your toes filled you with some kind of satisfaction I can't match,
If the salty sea left you with an itch I can't scratch,
If the California girls prove me completely unworthy,
If I'm not enough adventure for you; if it's not enough to just hold me
Maybe Cali changed you.
...then I don't know what to do.
   And maybe you're not new.
   Maybe you needed some kind
   of wake up call,
   something that had it all,
   to validate that I am nothing.

Please come back.

New year
Fresh start
New someone
To break my heart

New plans
To make
New dreams
That will break

New me
Getting better
New you
By a greater measure

New way
To miss you
New way
To wish you knew

Same wishes
That you were there
Same realization
That you don’t care

Running her fingers through my hair
I hug her with my arms wide
Even when I cry
My tears— they dry
So easy for her to blow my thoughts around
I’m so used to the cold
That I’ll roll my windows down in any weather
To meet her again

I’m a hoarder
I keep letters of sorrow and happiness,
Getting high off of borrowed moments from the past that I know won’t last.
My tolerance will grow,
And I won’t get the same high that I now know.
But I keep them anyway, all the momentos from my childhood that cling on to the last hope I carry in my heart from times that were better.
Letter by letter I read them and try not to realize what I’ve lost,
But instead realize what I had.
And even though it’s not the same as it was before the memories bring a smile to my face that I try to keep as long as I can before it melts into a much more depressed state.
Because you can’t think about what you’ve had before without realizing what you lost as well, they’re hand in hand.
I don’t want to be a hoarder anymore.

Have you ever felt sad?
You’re depressed!
Have you ever been worried?
You have anxiety!
Is your room clean?
You have OCD!
Do you feel like yourself?
You have DID!
Have you ever talked to yourself?
You have schizophrenia!
Are you happy, then sad?
You’re bipolar!
Do you eat enough?
You’re anorexic!
Do you think about death?
You’re suicidal!

Hearing theses scenarios on television
Causes severe, even lethal, tunnel vision.

Like glass,
I can shatter.
Quickly, draw
the shutters.
I know you
can see through
and it’s fun
to take in the view;
Watch me crumple
under stress
but it’s best
if the curtain covers
while the window cracks
because
there’s no going back
once you’re struck
by the broken shards
of glass.

My room is a mess and so is my life
The clothes on my floor are a metaphor for the
havoc in my head, weighing me in bed.
An endless supply of sweatshirts on my desk chair
remind me of the stress piling up due to
things to do, stuff to complete,
and quite honestly I’m ready to admit defeat.
Perfume bottles gathered and toppled over
they tempt me to try and disguise my chaos--
but I refuse, and then I lose them
so if I ever wanted to try, I can’t.
And instead of doing anything about it,
all I ever do is rant.

How can you feel so much loss for something you never had in the first place

Thought you were telling me what you really felt; turns out you were saving face

I see you
a preview
of a perfect blight
summer nights
with windows down
and I try not to drown
in acid rain
again

You know you’re life is bad when you win the competition.
“Sorry, I was just busy because I had the flu last week. Ugh, my luck has just been so bad lately!”
“Yeah, I’ve been busy too. My dad died in January, my mom totaled her car in April, we got our emails hacked in May, and I actually had the flu over spring break too.”
And in the silence, there is pity.

There is a place
Where a man resides
Early to everything
Because early is on time
He may have left soon
But he’s waiting at the gate
At the front of the line
Because on time is late

The gates swing open
And he is admitted
They let him in because
They knew all he did

His passion unmatched,
Rivaled by everyone
He stood up for what he wanted
Never backed down for anyone

He had much pride
For his wife and two daughters
A triathlete, an artist,
And a student with honors

He never ceased to give
Back to his community
Would help a neighbor out
At literally any opportunity

Talk about the funniest guy
You’ve ever met—
I keep thinking the jokes
Can’t get better, yet
In my head he’ll walk right through that door, do his victory dance, laughing, rolling on the floor.
And I know he won’t, but if you think that the last you’ve seen of him was on January 9th, 2019 at 6:18pm then you are sadly mistaken.
If you think he’s done with all of you then you underestimate him.
Because he will be there through thick and thin,
To see all of us lose and win,
To see us fall but still keep kicking.
My father was an orderly man who enjoyed having a schedule and this little set back did not set him back at all.
His New Years resolution was to spend more time with his family and he plans to do just that with all this time on his hands.

There is a place
Where a man resides
Ready to listen to
All our goodbyes
But his trick is
He’s got plans to drop by
Early to the gate
So he’ll be on time.

****; missed the deadline
The spot in your heart’s been filled.
I’ll be alright...right?

When I was fourteen, I learned “no” doesn’t mean anything to certain people.
They take that word and twist it, carve it, shape it and play with it until it mushes into “yes”. They do the same with
“Not today.”
“I want to wait.”
“We’re too young.”
“This isn’t fun.”
All they need to do is drag you to a point along the road that you give up, and then “I guess” is what they run with.
“No” is just a sign to try harder, right?
If you can’t get them to “I guess” or “yes”, you haven’t tried hard enough.
And once you’ve done it, you think it’s okay to do it again and again,
On multiple occasions,
Without so much as even asking.
It only takes 1 “I guess”,
Then all the hear is “yes”.

you are sunshine
in human form.
i never thought looking at something so bright
could make me feel the delight that you do
when you walk into a room.
usually, staring at the sun would hurt my eyes,
but you are a safe sunshine;
rather than hurt my eyes you manage to widen them as i'm in awe of you,
which,
in my opinion,
is better than the sun could ever do
when my dark clouds roll through and even the sun casts a shadow on me,
you somehow manage to pull me
under your safe-sunshine umbrella,
because no matter the weather,
yours is always up and welcoming
you leave everyone else questioning
how you outshine the sun.

Fresh blankets of snow turned to slush
Handsome white into gloomy grey
Temperatures rising with rainfall
As Mother Nature grows with the grass
From a girl to fully grown
Blossomed like the emerald leaves in endless heat
And she thinks,
Things can’t stay alive forever.
Expensive trees serve as her apologies
And as the fee for the temperature decrease
Leafy angels crunch beneath feet
Soon replaced by rocks of salt in the street
And Mother Nature rests
After a sly confession
That she plans to do it again.

I remember useless things
Like how your hand fit in mine
Good to know at the time
But reduced
To uselessness now that you’re gone.

I remember useless things
Like our very first date
How right after we ate
We sat in the parking lot
Laughing a lot
At something you said that I can’t quite recall.

I remember useless things
That hurt to think back to
Like how you used to kiss me,
That you used to miss me
When you used to miss me
Yeah, you used to miss me
Unbelievable now
Just like it was at the time.

I remember useless things
That I wish I could forget
Wish I could forget that you cared
That you were ever even there
Because you really weren’t there
No, you were never there
And there’s something about that that stings
But I forget why.

I remember useless things.
And forget all the rest.
The things that don’t matter
Lay heavy in my chest
And I can’t forget.
Because I only remember useless things.

Your yellow post-its used to sprinkle my possessions with good messages,
assurances,
support.
They brought a smile to my face and a skip to my heartbeat.
But now,
Your handwriting haunts my head and I can’t escape.
Everywhere I look, all I see is your cursive letters and your initial at the bottom of the message.
I crumpled them up after I’ve ripped them off of their page,
I burn them,
I tear them,
I try to forget them.
And the more I try to forget them the more I remember how much it hurt when I destroyed them in the first place.

I met a man today
He looked me up and down and said
“Well aren’t you the finest little lady I’ve seen?”
I smiled and laughed, as forced as it was,
But quickly continued on my way, because—
He must have been crazy, seeing things maybe—
From my sweats to my ugly, can’t he see I value safety?

She wanted to love her
but didn’t know how.
The static in her head was too loud,
crowded commotion that could crack open her cranium countless times,
but when the clocks count soundless in your mind,
What’s the difference?
The clocks turn carnivorous,
and break down the barriers you bound around them,
destroying your defenses and leaving you defenseless as they detonate the little love you keep for yourself.
Then, there’s nothing left.