Words are beautiful,
Precious things.

Please, respect them.
Think of all the books
That have been banned,
All the hopes and dreams and fears
Silent, or just
Unexpressed
Because the language we had,
The language we have shaped,
Was not enough.

"u" is not "you."
"&" is not "and."
"your" is not "you're."

I understand, in the world of cell phones
Of impatience
We want to get to the next word,
Already.
But stop for a moment,
Savor the taste of you,
Think about all that the word
Could ever mean
To poets
To lovers
To loneliness.

It is so much more than a letter.
And although the world is profaned,
I beg of you,
As a writer,
As a person,
As words on a stark white background,
Profane no more.

Poems are a changing thing and are at worst a dragon.
Come to consume thoughts and drag words like virgins to the stake.
             when I was a witchy thing, black wings spread over in grief.
              I began to breath fire from depths of pain that no longer
              We're hidden- safe.
What a beast! Her eyes hot and tongue sharp and beauty unfolding
With each rip from a torn soul, oh! And to me, the greater the passion
The more a story is told.
              So it seems dark embers stir this creatures heat,
               While thundering for meaning as
               Joy to love, like a monster my dragon was only
               Trained to eat.
Molting form a maidens horror purity was up to fight,
Against the memories and faded- incomplete prose
That only taunted the will to abide.
               Writing only when voice can not answer
                and my heart offends- the more it bends
                To serve the dragon's fire.

Home is where your heart is, a friend told me some time ago
On a little piece of paper that I took with me then;
Most people think of home as something stable, as something they would know;
Each time I part, I'm thinking of this lttle note, and it is when

                               I really miss you
                                           that I imagine my heart to be in many places
one of those pieces being by your side.

this is a simple thing
thus these lines know no rhyme -
no time is used to jot them down
no time is needed here
to rhyme.

It is only of coming home.

I will keep pushing myself.
Keep going.
I will read Edmund Spenser,
Shakespeare, Wilde,
Shelley, Doyle, and CS Lewis
By the end of the summer.
You laugh.
Two weeks, one book a day, it isn't hard.
I only have four chapters of chemistry to finish,
Two chapters of AP Physics,
Four chapters of AP US history,
My personal reading list,
Four debate cases,
And a little light reading
(Judith Butler and Ayn Rand).
I WILL finish everything I have to do.
Refill the coffee ***.
I'll use more eyedrops.
Two weeks.
I will finish my summer homework.

how dare you?
how dare you shove your maple syrup words down my throat,
telling me what i should do with my black hole of a future?
how dare you neglect every thought my mind has ever had,
erasing and replacing them with yours?
how dare you force me to live in your shadow,
no matter how dark it may be?
has it ever crossed your mind that i don't want to be a shadow,
but my own sun?

the title of being a sun is all i have ever yearned for
in my sixteen years of being the moon.
i dream of my utopia:
i'd be the sun casting the darkest of shadows on you,
forcing you to swallow my words like cough syrup,
pouring every ounce of pain and jealousy from being your younger sister,
onto you.

and now that you're gone,
i regret not absorbing every detail like a sponge,
i promise i'll be better...

i want you to shove words down my throat until they reach the pit of my stomach,
i want you to take me into my blurry future
until it becomes crystal clear and i can see my reflection from miles away,
i want you to reject all my new ideas
(they're all probably wrong anyways),
and i want you to remain the sun,
for i am the moon,
who's light is all borrowed from you.

but now i'm stuck writing useless words miles away from you,
hoping you'll read them,
and understand all the pain you've inflicted on me,
take heed of  all the visible scars that you casted on my mind,
realize all the guilt and agony that has been lingering around my heart,
because once you left our house,
you never once left my mind.