its been a month
since a blade has touched my skin,
and as i was taking a shower,
i shaved my legs and
i accidentally nicked myself.
i watched as blood
dripped down my leg.
i looked at in awe,
i know i miss the feeling,
maybe one more scratch wouldnt hurt?
but, thats where i stopped,
i didnt try to nick my leg again,
i didnt let the thoughts get to me,
i won.

another day down,
a whole life to go.
{dear god that sounds awful, huh?}

I sent it
At three AM
On one of those nights
Where silence gets violent
And I'm alone in my head.

I told you about the
Tiny pink pills
And how
If I took eight
I would sleep forever.
I gushed that
They were hidden
Under the toothpaste slathered
Countertop
In my bathroom.

I told you I loved you
But that
You weren't enough to stop me anymore.

I did actually consider it.
It was one of those nights.
But at some point,
As I laid on top of my comforter
And shivered under the fan,
I realized that
You weren't going to wake up
And convince me out of it.

I also thought
About how my mom was
A light sleeper.
How the floorboards would sound like
Orchestras
And the cabinet
Would be the symbals
To her.

I fell asleep
Numb,
But naturally numb,
And woke up wondering
What you would say.

You didn't say anything.

I wish I were a cigarette
Perched in-between your perfect arched lips
Breathe me into you
I'll swirl in smoke tendrils around your face
And then I'll happily fade away
Until you light up another later
Being your bad habit isn't so bad
If that's what I am to you,
I'll take it

the hairdresser used the wrong dye
       your boyfriend dumped you for a guy

all you have left is shattered dreams
      camera flash blinds you with its beams

missionaries bring word of an impending doom
    your dog snuck in and broke your fave perfume

trying to grow your hair but you have split ends
        the guy you've been eyeing wants to be just friends

your favorite jeans ripped and you don't have spares
        you would ask for a friend's but nobody cares

you're late to work and you don't know why
      you got scouted to model but you were suddenly too shy

you failed the pop quiz that everybody aced
      you got mistaken for a celebrity and brutally chased

you dropped your wallet jogging around
      you found it empty a week later in the lost and found

you forgot not to and picked a scab
       your favorite uncle's stuck in rehab

your grandmother mistook you for her son
      in reality you're female, and nowhere near fifty-one

you're a penny short but the cashier won't budge
     your mother is still holding that 10-year grudge

what can you do, what can you say?
when all you have is first world problems, today.

I hate airplanes.
I hate them
More than
Anything
I've ever hated.

Except the flight
From Dulles
To Ft. Lauderdale.
I like that.

Especially at night
When it feels like
Stars
Can be caught with
A thin fishing line
Twenty feet away

And eventually you
Go off the mainland
And can't tell where
The water starts
Or
The stars stop.

Then you see a
Sudden line of lights below
And beyond that
An infinity of bright bursts
Of lights
And lamps.

All darkness,
Then suddenly
Light.

I really hate planes.

But not the flight
From Dulles
To Ft. Lauderdale
At night.
I love that.

it was a love,
so sudden and fierce,
it scars your palms
when you press them
together to pray
and you only prayed
when his sad, tired eyes
looked at you
when he said your name
and it hurt the both of you
for different reasons.

don't talk to me
about holiness,
i've been on fire
for a year now.

he didn’t pray,
but he took a few seconds
to catch his existential breath
and when he did that,
he closed his eyes
and the doctor asks him
to read the bottom line
and it’s the name bullies called him
in the 6th grade.

that’s when you put
your head on his chest
and felt his heart beating
all the way inside yours.
then he tells you he feels like
flowers are growing from his knees
because they get weak
when he thinks of her,
but he didn’t mean
to say that and
he’s sorry.

he’s sorry and so are you,
and things start to burn,
like that time in 3rd grade
you put the candle
too close to the curtain
and watched your life
turn to ashes,

except it hurts
3 times worse
when it’s a beautiful boy
you didn’t know
was capable
of liking
someone
like
you.

it is the color of a misty morning,
when the world is silent and
the dawn has yet to blot the last stars out of the sky.
it is the feeling of frost on your windowsill
but warmth in your bed.
you shut your eyes,
determined to keep the imminent sun at bay.

it is the color of dreams chased away
but consciousness yet to be attained.
of time standing still,
of a breath waiting to be exhaled.

this color is
calmness
contentment
quiet.
the shade of a prayer before bed and
a sigh upon waking;

the shade of peace.

adversely,
it is also the color of the clutches of loneliness,
of the weight of sadness.
it is the color of somebody's world crumbling apart
but with nobody to bear witness to their silent pain.

this color is one of falling, of screaming, of drowning--
but with nowhere to land
and no one to hear
and nothing to hold.

this color often associates with death.

it is the color of lips and veins
when the heart stops beating;
the color or cold and
the color of tears.

but always remember
that it is above all the color of beginning.
of the sea
and sky
and eternity.

it is an infinite color.

it is not the color of goodbye.