i am made of flaws,
stitched together by good intentions;
but it’s hard to stay intact, when you constantly rip at my seams.
you pull and tug, until i become unravelled,
and i'm just a piece of string,
that you shove in your pocket.
and, much like string, i'm useless on my own;
i need to tie myself to someone.
but you and i, tied ourselves together too quickly
and, like my hair that you always nagged me to brush,
we became more knotted, more tangled with time.
but as time went on, we insisted that we were fine,
we could just use our fingers;
but it wasn’t until we stood at the mirror,
staring at our own matted destruction,
that we realized:
no comb could possibly be strong enough
to make us beautiful again.

The worst kind of reply is none at all,
Because it gives me time to rip myself apart.
And list all the thing’s I should’ve said,
And all the things I did.
Why build someone up just to let them down?

I always believed it was my fault,
When it was completely yours.
Because I thought I loved you,
And did not love myself.

Trying
I am trying.
I am trying hard.
I am trying so hard.
I am trying too hard.

I picture us dancing in an apartment
somewhere in the future
and we've got socks on
the song that's playing is called "Such Bad Handling" by Toro Y Moi
because I've told you how much I like this song
and you knew that already
I can see us being so happy
dancing in our colliding spaces
but we are together
and you make me happy too
I hope I made you wanna dance
in socks

when we're tired from dancing I just
start to laugh and you laugh too
and nothing can compare to
something as great as feeling you
smile with me

Poem a day, day 16*

Second guessing
Unsure of what I'm certain
So doubtful
When I should know better.

Old insecurities
Raise their ugly heads.
Years of growth
Fade away in a moment.

But it's just a moment
This too shall pass
We all have days
Of feeling unsure.

I am a strong
Confident woman
Not the scared, insecure
Girl I used to be

it will be a very long time
before i stop thinking of your lips
every time
i hear the word
*"kiss"

Pens get lost like frost in Boston, if buildings collapsed
I'd rebuild the past to trillions of ticks of the clock ago
before this part of the world became recognized and known,
before any stitched on the American flag were sewn

When the soilage looked like foliage until days passed by and by again
Through April showers which brought May flowers birthing the earth with succulent screenplays of baby's breath, crocuses- a pollen infused haze
turns rays of sunshine up in farenheight
I learned to pull tight on two bunny eared shoelaces and saw faces and faces and went places and places watching the trees beg their mother to leave traces, some green- no orange!- no red,- please!

But you're beautiful my darling, crooned mother
you're not like any other, you're original.  A vision-
an extension of me, and you will die
you will die
and when you die as you are now your limbs
will forever be used as adjectives for poetry, stories, emotions
you will die and your spirit will rev up it's engine for another lifetime of a ride

Do not dwell upon regrets you wish to sell or branches and leaves that have long ago fell, or things in this life that did not go so well- like wanting a mac but owning a dell
or dreams moaning groans from the gates of hell
waiting for you to turn off the lights

It fights you doesn't it?  
Every something and every nothing
it fights your lungs, begging, tossing
A squirming urge, this need, an insatiable hunt, a crave you can't feed
Leads your fingers to the notebook
filled with castles, legalized marijuana, maybe pirates with hooks- Anything in those pages
I want those pages
I need those pages
I have to fill those pages with this mess of a dress
I hastily waste my precious time with everyday
so I can cover up the dog puke stained
Ludacris way
I feel all the time
Gotta find a pen