i know i bite my fingernails
and i wear too many rings
i know i take too many showers
and i don't look good in jeans
i know i **** at playing guitar
and i'm far too quick to lie
i know i'm no good at counting the stars
and i'm ugly when i cry
i know there's no reason for you to love me
or even like me as a friend
but i clung onto you like a blood-******* leech
until our bitter end
i don't blame you for moving on
and i hope she makes you happy
thank you for showing me where i went wrong
in everything you hate about me.

you with the bruised half-moons under your eyes
from nights spent staring at the ceiling-
you with the unshaved legs
because most of your time in the shower is too tired to move-
you with the messy, untamed haircut
that nobody else likes (but you like it)
you with the low grades and empty bank account
because you can't focus, can't understand-
you with the parents who laugh about war
who flaunt their freedom as if they will never be affected
you with the friends who roll their eyes over death
who say things like "they're in a better place now"

who are you?

who are you, star-child?

"i'm me, of course" she answers, confused by the question.
her hands are a fake warm hue, her hair likewise, her skin flushed and angry.
(she has heard this question before, she already knows the answer.)

and there is another voice, screaming somewhere, sobbing and begging to be released, because-
the star-child has shoved her down, has shut her in a tight box and hidden her under years of dust and neglect.
the girl in the box is all white daisies and yellow t-shirts.
she is dancing in the rain and laughing when snowflakes catch on her eyelashes.
she is unbothered by thoughts of college or war, unbothered by budgets or relationships or the future.
she is holding hands with someone faceless, someone with a white smile splitting the black void of their face.
someone faceless is pulling his hand away-
someone faceless is turning his back.

"i'm me," the star-child answers, even as frozen tears fall and shatter on her hands. "who else would i be?"

"you with the tears soaking your pillow at night," i whisper,
"you with the silent screams into darkness,
"you with the selflessness that requires no one to see you hurting,
"you with the fear that he will look back and try to save you,
"you with the knowledge that you can't be saved-"

all stars burn up and fall,
some faster than others.

"i'm-" she begins again, but there are no words to finish her sentence this time.
her throat is closed up and her eyes are watering.
her hands are gray and dull, her hair likewise, her skin bleached.
there is no color left in this fallen star.
there is no life left in this fallen star.

your life is a lie and you will be okay.
your life is a lie and you will be okay.
your life is a-

they said "put your trust in the Lord"
but i don't believe in that stuff anymore
asking, "where is God, then?"
invisible sobbing as they say "amen"
spilling my soul onto neat lines of old scars
oh, how could you break all those lost hearts?
and asking "if God is real, then where is he?"
if he loves me, then why isn't he listening?"
knuckles white and bruised with blue
and i never know what to do
as i'm gripping the edge of the mirror
because i don't believe in that stuff anymore.

The honor is all mine
A humbling sweetness
An even kinder heart

What a deadly combination

The essence
Of the undiscovered
Is intoxicating to my senses

Taken aback holding steady

Flying high
Flirting with true appeasement
Gravitating ~ Appeal

Fill up my cup to the brim
With something magnificent
Beaming brilliance

In plain sight grabbing a hold

Overflowing cup tastes just right
Hazel eyes caught
Up in a hypnotic trance

You suddenly appeared

A calming stillness
I so needed
Kind words a plenty

Are my ears hearing you correctly

Shiny like a pearl
Can sliver and gold
Make a cohesive pair

Scavenger hunt here’s your compass

Come find me
If your heart truly desires
I may just let you in slowly

If I give you the keys to my heart

Would you still love me after
You saw what
Was hiding deep

Inside the brokenness

Or run like everyone else has
Replenishing you truly are
Like a jellybean you can’t put down

The bordello camp 

Morning in Aruba, the ****  has crowed three times
Men get out of beds that hundreds have slept in 
of other men, they are silent, waiting for taxis
to take them back to their ship
Sad men, there is no jubilation here, cigarette smoke
A cold morning beer while waiting for the transport
A ******, overcome by the tardiness, tries to run away
There is nowhere to run; the ***** camp is in the desert
on a desert, sand, bushes, and snakes.
The madman, plied with alcohol, is sleeping.
The other carried him onboard.
In the courtyard, a woman swipes the dance 
floor, doesn't bother to look up, when this day ends 
They will be back again, or someone like them
will come, here, drink, dance, and pay for ***

After an iteration of lying silent,
Slowly breathing
In and out
Enduring a lifetime of suffocation,
Something is seen.
Amongst the ashes of what once existed
And along the edges of the things that used to grow,
Life begins again
A warmth and a green haze that belies
The reckless abandon
Of all that used to be.
The whisper of Hope begins
A hoarse and hollow voice
Folding in on itself
While it echos across the barren wasteland
Of old, storm-worn steps
That lead into the coming days.
I look up
At the ashes that still fall,
Settling at my shredded feet
In piles of gray
And despair.
But Hope's voice grows ever louder
Though it never rises above a mutter,
Weak and worn
From years of oppression.
My eyes land on a single shade of blue
That birthed the emerald Hope
Among the ashes of the past.
And in a swirling maelstrom of ephemeral understanding,
I can now see:
There will be music here again
It may be many an era before its strands
Pluck through the dust
Of the destruction wrought
But there will be music here again.