i only want a place that i can call home.

I went up to the hill
that Jack and Jill
once tumbled down
quickly becoming the talk of the town
a terrible reminder of youth
the scene from this hill
one fall down this grassy *****
and your life
becomes the tale of legends
of stories
of perverted wonderings
one tumble down this metaphorical hill
and you leave the land of butterflies and fairy wings
and hit your childhood crown
on the rock of adulthood

I've lost all my baby teeth
But I remember the ache in my gums
The ****** holes they left behind

I exchanged each pearl for a coin
From a glittering fairy tale falsity
A consolation prize for growing up

Bits of bone falling from my mouth
I bid my skeletal farewell
To the pieces of me I no longer needed

T minus 15 years
I am screaming, crying, untimely ripped from the first home I had ever known
Born with eyes open, I fight for my first breath. I know I am supposed to live.
T minus 10 years
I have earned callouses on my little hands, toughened the soles of my feet
And now encounter the lullaby of language, the incredible illusion of image
T minus 5 years
I notice shooting stars, and for the first time, they seem within my reach
If I just turn my palms towards the sky, I'll catch a comet before it hits the earth
Countdown complete
The mountains I've climbed are scratched into my soul, and I trek on
Keeping my eyes open, I fight for my each breath. I know I am supposed to live.

To cook something beautiful
You need a few unsightly ingredients.
Like to make a cake
You need flour and baking soda
Baking powder, sugar, and a hint of salt
Water and eggs.
They aren't appealing to look at
By themselves
Or even when mixed together.
But when handled right,
And with a little time
Love and care
An oven and a spatula
You conform them into exactly the right shape
And those unsightly ingredients become
A tasty treat,
But what's a cake without frosting?
It's something bigger than what it was.
It's a combination
The frosting makes it more
Visually appealing,
It masks the overly cooked
Side.
Some air pockets from
An inexperienced
Or careless chef.
It's masks imperfections.
You can't force a cake to become perfect.
It needs time,
it needs love,
it needs care.
Dare I say it again,
It needs time,
It needs love,
It needs care.
When the cake
Gets those, and is left alone
To bake,
To think about what it's job is,
To not just be beautiful
Covered in frosting
But without it as well,
You'll have the best ****
Cake you've ever made.
It won't be over done on one side
Or the other,
It won't have air bubbles,
It'll glisten and gleam,
And be pristine.
You'll have a cake
Beautiful
On the inside and out.

It's coming.
we can all feel it,
that trembling somewhere in the backdrop,
in your toes
and the pit of your stomach.
you hardly notice unless you stop to realize
this is it
It hits us all differently, i think.
Some embrace it, run to it.
they cannot wait a second longer
Others shrug it off, going through the motions
it's part of life, right?
not to me, not to the rest.
it's the equivalent of realizing
that there are only so many more times that i can see your smile again
that there is a limit to the amount of moments i can laugh so hard it aches
with those that make me feel as if i can climb up the mountains
that i will only be surrounded by for so much longer
and there will be no more driving down the road at 7:32 am
and admiring the way that the sun paints the clouds
and the mountains on the other side pink
and sometimes i can't help but remember the time he and i
shared a love of sunsets
and i dont know if i'll see him again but i hope so (i think)

i know i'll miss it.
the scent of leaves and the music and the sandaled spring days
and best friends and accidental friends
the people i have not known as long as i want,
no; need to know them
you can tell me it's going to be better; that this is just the start of it all
(that there are new people and new laughs and new feelings)
but right now it feels like the ending
the whole world ending
because really that's all it's ever been.
between the stressful tears and the days you thought would never end,
are speckles of laughter
and holding on to each other tight
arms on shoulders belting out a song
about the mountain peaks meeting the starry skies.
maybe it's talking about us,
because sometimes the night sky can be terrifying.
i don't think i can go on
without you all by my side.