It is tranquil here
Everything silent the air is clear
Unlike the deafening roars
Ringing in my ears.
My vision has begun
To blur
To disappear
A half-drunken cup of coffee sits on the table
Just beyond my reach
A black fur ball curled beside me
Her gentle even breaths
Soothing my own.
I am at home in the gentle whir of the ceiling fan
In the darkness
In the purple half-moons that encompass my honey eyes.
I am at home in this silent chaos
Yet I wish to be elsewhere,
Among the wild city that never sleeps
Or the roaring oceans down the street
Or high in the clouds above
Anywhere beyond my
cautious, safe room.
But a wish is not an action,
And I am too tired to get up.

you hold yourself in this sort of trance,
eyes expressive but body no stance,
a fascinating event to see:
how your mind wanders valleys
but your body never leaves.

I've been wondering how to put this into words for months,
the aching feeling of missing something you haven't quite experienced,
how to long for something like you've had it before but never have,
I've come to the conclusion that I'm either suffering from a mild case of 'your crazy',
or the much realer and scarier version of my thoughts,
I have become homesick of a home I have yet to venture to,
and after much thought I feel this must be true,
but the scary thing is that I still have not a clue what to do.

My anger shows in tears,
it's the rains of the rainforest,
the torrential downpours of a monsoon,
the floods of a hurricane,
it brings destruction in its wake,
and it brings renewal.

All I hear is you you you
and never of me me me.
Never an I’m sorry,
Never an apology.
You speak of what I’ve done to you,
but what you’ve done to me?
I’m sorry I've hurt you,
*but are you sorry you’ve hurt me?

My eyes watch the camera reel,
hollow and hawkish,
unfocused, unreal,
I try to grasp the meaning here,
sullen and sarcastic,
illusive, instilled,
Forgotten fragments that don't seem to meld,
jutting and jagged,
reclusive, revealed,
The lens of life,
false and fibbed,
lost, lurid,
paltry and pitiable.

Be Brave and Be Outspoken,

Be Beautiful and Be Wise,

Be Stubborn and Be Heroic,

Be Rebellious and Be Crazy,

Be Strong and Be Kind,

because at the end of the day,

when all is said and done,

you will have no regrets.

I think I'm going crazy
Everything is feeling hazy
I try to bathe in the sun
-it seems I only **** the light out of it.
This whole-bodied numbness
is getting too unbearable
struck by moments of suffocating panic
I can't even remember my own name
It hurts.
How can one live in a world filled with nothing but pain?
When I scream for help and nobody answers?
I know I'll talk myself down for now
but this time feels all too real.
When I become nothing but a past-tense
everyone will become all too familiar with my name
everyone will become all too familiar with my pain
but no one will have done a thing to help.
I see no future here...

Its been a cloudy day for a few years,
the sun and the darkness alternating presences,
Some days its stormy like death,
Others is dull and expressionless.
Oh, but there are sunny days too!
Accompanied by light coverage clouds, the day still has some gloom.
I wish this cloud would go away, it brings so much rain and lightning
without notice
and leaves without a trace.
But soon the next cloud rumbles in,
and exhaustive cycle that never ends.

You wonder why I won't stop,
But do you wonder why I ever started?
Do you ever wonder how I feel?
Do you ever wonder if I have tried?
Do you ever wonder that I have cried?
Do you ever wonder that I almost have died?
Do you ever wonder why I have survived?
Do you ever for a second wonder that I can't?
Do you ever wonder?
You wonder not.

The daydream comes in waves,
exasperated kisses,
lips so soft and sweet,
the way you drag them down my neck,
I bite my lip and breathe in,
impatient now,
waiting for you to continue,
waiting for the next wave.

Frequently I find myself unable to complete everyday tasks,
it is like my brain has made it harder to do anything,
it is like i am unable to compel myself to even get up.

It happened suddenly,
like a lightning bolt liquid and lashing,
a sand storm deadly and unexpected.

Sleep became a luxury,
Screens became a necessity,
and school became a maybe.

I would long for the days that a liquid gold would seep through my veins and give me anything, any ounce of energy to complete daily tasks.

Even as I sit writing this my body has successfully avoided clean dishes, doing laundry and completing schoolwork.

I know I need to change,
I want to change,
But I have no idea how to get out of this mental cage of misery that holds me.

But honestly,
Who are you?
I'm stuck here pondering,
did I ever really get you?
All the time in the world has passed,
why the **** am I not over you?
Still thinking of the could've and the would've,
and why cant I just hate you?
To be honest Im just done with you
your mind was never with it.
You said you loved me in the end,
then why is my heart twisted?
Confusion envelopes my clouded brain,
and while im still stuck loving,
did I ever actually love you or were we actually nothing**?

I burn everything I touch,
without intention,
without prejudice,
without control,
I burn everything,
even myself.

I am so much more than I ever expected to be
Despite drowning in this insufficiency
A chorus of deafening inadequacy
Proving myself and others wrong,
So deliciously

I never expected to be so far
I expected to be much farther
I never expected to be alive
I expected to be demising

I know I’ve hurt
I know I’ve broken others
I know I’ve bruised
I know I’ve used others

Regretful I suppose
No
Just reactionary behavior

And I have succumbed to my darkest depths
Though they have never won
And I have fallen back 12 steps
Yet still, I scale the rungs

So when I say “I’ve given up”
Never do believe me
I am capable of getting up
Love, I’m just that crazy.

If I knew then
What I know now?
That my words were safe in you
That my heart was safe with you
That I had little to fear but myself
If I knew then
What I know now?
I would have said it all
I would have given you my heart
I wouldn’t have hesitated trusting you
If I knew then
What I know now?
Oh but I knew,
I knew, I knew,
You had me from the start.

Its 1:31 AM, I’m awake on a Sunday night having just finished a sad movie. I must be an emotional wreck because I usually don’t write like this unless I feel deeply sad in my heart. Its weird how its touch and go, how one minute I’m sad and the next I’m nervously smiling watching the crowd in a nostalgic happiness. For some odd reason I’m crying, earlier today I was at a concert, and then afterwards my mother brought me to an over 21 bar. I’m barely over 17, and I realized in that moment next year I would be an adult. A free, unbounded, set on adventures full blown adult; and yeah I felt excited but the worst part was that unbearable scariness clenching my soul telling me unknown is upon me. I’m very odd like that; while my exterior emanates pure bliss my interior can have a billion thoughts of terror and fear of the unknown, a silent battle on a happy vessel.  I’m trying to keep it together here, but here I am almost 2 am on a school night crying my eyes out for nothing and poring my heart out into a poorly written letter to myself. I’ll probably stay up all night because at this point will be extremely tired either way. Sometimes I regret ever taking AP and honors classes, they take up so much of my vacant time, and I always end up procrastinating till the end of me and it hurts so bad. One day I think the stress will be all too much for me, I’ll have pulled out all my eyelashes, picked off every last bump, and silently cried my last tear, and I’ll just vanish into an endless sea of sleep. I hope that never happens though, because for some odd reason I always seem to thrive in these stressful times, I mean sure my coping mechanisms stress me out even more but I survive. I hope the next time I feel like writing it won’t be spur of the moment 2 am because I really need my beauty sleep. It goes without saying that I am a very shallow *****, I am rude and arrogant and intelligent and annoying, but without any of those qualities my life would be impossible. I probably would’ve offed myself by now if I didn’t have a way to cope, if anyone who knows me is reading this you should know how deeply sad I am yet how unbearably happy I am at the same time. I love the time when I wake up and I just want to roll over and sleep again, the moment when my whole outfit screams my name and I feel the best kind of sexiness, when I finally get that math problem or I am full speed ahead in all my classes, you have no idea how happy I am when I hang out with a family member or on rare occasions a friend. How sad it makes me when my sister pushes me around, yet how happy I am that she is still to date my best most wonderful friend in the entire world and there is no way that I would ever be able to survive without her in my life. Now I’m a sobbing mess, over a rude sister, wow how ******* my perspectives of the world are. There is no way I would trade her for anything in the world, her natural beauty and grace, her constant fighting spirit, and her wonderful and unattainable intelligence because there is no way I will ever be as smart as her and no matter what I will always look up to and in to her. This is not a love letter, more a jumbled mess of sad and happy words all mixed together desperate to sort itself out. Scared of the future yet so unbearably yearning for it, what a terribly numb life it hurts so bad it makes me happy to be alive. I could be a sullen gloomy mess of a girl yet my life revolves around the simple fact that I am happy, and no matter what diagnosis or what condition I will always be happy.

It's whatever I say,
Just to get through the day,
In my jaded view,
My problems diminish into blurs,
Its whatever.

I want to be your best friend
I want to lay on our backs staring at the ceiling
talking about everything and nothing
contemplating the meaning of life
thinking about what we had for breakfast
and remembering what we did last summer.
I want to be your best friend
I want to show up unannounced
and be welcomed home
invited to the dinner table
asked how my family is doing
fitting in right where we left off.
I want to be your best friend
I want to say whatever is on our mind
to be light and unrestrictive
hold your hand when you’re sad
calm you down when you're upset
wipe your tears and make you laugh right after
forever.
I want to be your best friend
I want to be your best friend
I want to be your best friend

2 am eyes open wide,
thinking about my life.
Silence envelopes my mind,
just me and the night sky for a while.
I wander near your angel face,
but you're sound asleep and I'm in the nights embrace.
Sometimes I wish that this would change,
but it's just me & the night for the rest of my days.

Do you listen?
Do you hear?
Do you watch closely your peers?

I can see them,
I can hear.
I can listen for their fears.

Do you focus?
Do you try?
Do you struggle in your life?

I know struggles,
I know strength.
I know the worries of a day.

Do you wonder?
Do you cry?
Is it hard to empathize?

I can't help them,
I can't cry.
I am haunted by their eyes.

Do you worry?
Do you sigh?
Do you struggle with the lies?

I do worry,
I do sigh.
I do struggle with the lies.

Do you hear the drum beat beat?
Do you hear the girls quiet screams?

I can hear them,
I can see.
I can fear them for they torture me.

Do you question?
Do you hear?
Do you push for truth among your peers?

Please I urge you,
hear the cries.
Please I urge you,
watch the eyes.

It's in the air,
It's in her hair,
It's in her eyes,
In her veins,
In her clothes,
In her lips,
In her heart,
In her soul,
It's in her.
Love is in her.

I don't want normal
and easy and simple,
I want a painful,
difficult, life changing
devastating, passionate
extraordinary life.

The silence beams from the moons iridescent rays,
gentle paws pad up my bed to lay,
a calming ambience I pray will stay,
but once again the voices flow my way.

12 am the door creaks wide,
at first, your love is seen in wide smiles and open stares,
your kisses like a miracle to my tired exhausted eyes,
prayers creep up my tongue unable to even register my own voice in the midst of this loving embrace,
but still, I know what's coming.

I am unable to enjoy your love at this hour,
unable to see what you see or feel what you feel
because oh lord I know what's coming.

As his adoration waivers and his thunder settles in a storm is coming.
Your tears spill showers, rolling down broken hills unable to end because the words you hear so cruel you have begun to believe, yet still... you love him.

As your voices intertwine like grapes on a vine, beauty and magnificence I cannot seem to find because I know what's coming.
Your heart swells wide with hope inside, I search desperately to find where it hides, you see I know what's coming.

These brains are spun on drunken dreams, you look to him with such love it's unimaginable to conceive how the man who receives is him.
And when the voices scream, the streams become oceans filling up your hollowed valleys.

And they don't subside, not until the red grapes bloom a corsage on your cheekbones, anger lost in translation as love. And when you die a little bit inside, still you don't seem to find what's coming.

When your oceans become mine, my whimpers become a crime,
because somehow his love becomes more important than mine,
just please find inside what's coming.

And I can't figure out
why you're still on my mind
after all this time.

Listen* to your father they'd say,
Make sure you seek father's approval,
Respect your father,
Never talk back to father.
Even if he is wrong, obey your father.
Father knows *best.

you forced my hand,
every time was like loving sand.
so now i have to go,
now i have to say no.
o**h, but it *hurts.

People are not flat and uninteresting,
they are more than their sexuality,
more than their race or ethnicity,
they are more then  their diseases and their disorders,
a person should not be judged based on a single factor of their lives,
they shouldn't be hated for loving a show or finding comfort in reading something you may not particularly care for at all,
people are more than their singular qualities,
People are complex,
People are beautifully and undeniably complex in a thousand bound and unbound wires that knot and twist and turn to form a being,
People are not these things at all,
People are these things as a whole.

I have so much to write about
yet nothing to write.
My fingers yearn for the feeling
of the keyboard
of an ebony pen
yet my mind does not deliver.
Like a misfire,
like a limb long since missing
writing has become a
foreign name
I can only remember.

Don't be fooled by my ability to resist,
I might have never gave into the monster,
but I always gave it a dance.

The sunday quiet eases my mind,
a welcome vacancy of thought spirals.
In the distance a soft tune plays,
music spins in and out of my space.
It fills my limbs from head to toe
spouting from my lips, my eyes, my-
my music spins me into a daze
and trance unlike a hypnotic phase.
The sun beams high from its sunday spot,
the clouds are fluffy, light, and white.
And as the music blooms to peak,
the lapping blue envelopes my cheeks.
I float in absence of the my weight,
absolute serenity claims a stay.
Its clear blue sheen brings peace to mind,
like I could drown here and still not die.
Its weightlessness drenches my hair,
yet when i shift into the air,
the weight is heavier so much there.
I intake life and fall to the floor,
the most abnormal experiences
are felt under this blue shore.
My body trembles as reality shakes,
my breathe is leaving,
to the surface or to a calmer place?
A disturbance by the door I hear,
gentle giggles of my sisters near,
I gasp for air as the bubbles explode,
This sunday warmth is toxic yet not loathed.

It was something I never expected,
and island has become two,
the waters a nervous calm,
two flags waving proudly one in the same
yet the same become different,
The birds silently wait for the chirps of its old playmate,
waiting for something that doesn't seem to come,
so for now its on to the next,
on to find solace in an unexpected old,
or become one with an imperfect new.

And for some reason, I can't make myself prioritize.
So I wind up reading web sites during the time I should be writing, writing while I should be sleeping,
and sleeping while I should be in class.
And making the "smart" list.
And continuing on the same dreaded path I've been on since middle school, when I first realized I could get away with this.

There are two sides to this eternal battle,
the beauty and the brains,
I once thought that I would be happy with the beauty,
but once i grew and became blessed with this gift it felt like something
I hadn't earned but quite like something i received in an unfair game of "whats your number",
I began to feel different then the rest of my crowd,
I began to lust and think and want and see things in a new light,
I had become an outcast
Trapped in a strange paradox known as the in between
somehow I left behind my beauty but still retained it and went in search of the brain,
I have yet to collect all the pieces of this masterpiece,
but in a strange irony I had begun to realize the Eternal Battle isn't a Battle between people and people,
but it is a struggle between self and self,
once you come to accept the gift of the struggle the struggle becomes you in a way that only you can decide is true to you.

At this age you should be fine
You have a job and some friends and a lover
don't mention the classes your taking this semester
Its been at least 10 years since it ended
you can't quite remember the details of when
You've been trying to forget for so long
its like forgetting a pop song
but this isnt some cheerful
or happy up beat
this isnt lryics you'd like to repeat
See a little boy thought you were a toy
doctor and marriage his
script to ensure you took the
part in his play
You took the bait and obeyed
as long as you were quiet
You could play with his games
You never knew quite the problem with the
noise
until you grew older and your throat grew
a boulder
your lungs filled half way permanently hindered
You began to wonder what you had done wrong
If you had taught him the unrepeatable song
the one your tongue tied can't sputter
mixed up words
to a horrible song you remember
on repeat in the back of
A brain so set on forgetting
but the radio only plays your unrepeatable
songs
so many versions you cant possibly
escape any longer
the words bubble up your half filled throat
threatening to explode
the words that won't sing
and maybe it happened and maybe you broke
and maybe the melody won't ever be known
but you're still on surviving
so let it be known:
you aren't what you've been through,
but what you become.