Paper plane high above the clouds
Soaring - Flying - Wind

Paper plane shoots into the stars
Soaring - Flying - Wind

Paper plane too high to see all the tiny people, tiny places, tiny faces, tiny problems
Soaring - Flying - Wind

Paper plane high in the stars, moon, sun, & clouds.

my small frame always had no place in your wandering eyes.
you dream of unmapped universes – endless seas and abstract love.
but i was stumbling in the little things:
        all of our moments and our lack thereof.

you waltzed through the days, the months and the years
you sought sunsets and moon phases in an endless chase
but i was left begging after the seconds,
for another moment in your embrace.

to you i am but a dismissive sentence in your explorer's log,
               a grain of salt in a desert of sands.
but to you i will dedicate stanzas and lines –
all the prettiest adjectives for our abandoned wonderlands.

I wonder what my life would be like if I could feel constant in-betweens.
Not scarlet or neon orange, but instead,
a warm, friendly wall of peach or something grey and familiar.
You always seemed to climb through my skin from the inside out,
clawing at reminders hanging from my limbs
to stop taking everything so seriously.

On hard days, I do not cry.

Thanks to you,
I spew lava from my eyes until it feels
as if my tears could burn entire highways
down the slopes of my cheeks,
my anger the epitome of a pyromaniac's paradise.

When I am afraid, I do not tremble.

Instead, I am a nine on the Richter scale,
a category-five hurricane of fear
that cannot be shaken away.

And like lightning striking the top of an oak tree,
the next moment I am filled with so much joy
that my heart begins to burst
into four-thousand yellow balloons
and learns how to fly away,
performing a salsa with the hummingbirds
and a waltz with the rays of sunlight
emerging from inside of me.

Never have I felt the calmness of the lake.

Instead, I harbor oceans within the crevices of my palms,
scraping out entire planets from the pupils of those
who have spent their entire lives feeling too little.

And thanks to you,
I wonder how my life would be
if I had been blessed with the capability to feel
just okay
just fine
just something other than
out-of-control.


But my heart keeps pumping
in tsunami waves rather than puddles,
and when I finally stumble upon peace,
it consumes me.

By loving you I learned to hate myself
In finding you I learned to lose myself
Eyes roll back into my head,
Decorated by ugly shades of red
Don't really know if I meant what I said,
If I'd rather be dead

Couldn't stop the shakes
Turned my tears into lakes
Trying to teach myself not to need you here
This is someone trying to disappear

Craving your careful stroke of my hair
That simple bliss so temporary

But in leaving you I've learned to need myself
And in forgetting you I've learned to be myself
They said life teaches you how to live it,
you just have to live long enough to get it

I am told that I am down to Earth
and that makes me wonder
that if we were to get onto our bellies
scouring the forest floor
would we find pieces of my personality.

Would you find my laugh
hidden amongst rabbits in their burrows,
mistaking their animal talk
for the hiccup caught in my throat laugh
that I do when I am nervous.  

Would the scraping of bear claws against trees
be the clitter clatter of me rushing to brush my teeth--
the morning/midnight/everyday gust
that I have to put into each part
of my day to keep up with the world.

Would the change of seasons:
cold and determined, young and lively,
warm and strong, regrowth and understanding--
be the change of perspective I share
with each talk we have,
you come to see the seasons change
and with them you want to grow--
inside me you find the same
willingness to cherish
all the world.