I meant everything I said,
and I still think you're amazing
You intrigue me like a single rose,
appeal to my senses and curiosity
I feel so close to you, and
so unsure of what is going
on in your beautiful mind.
I want to listen to you talk
and watch your hands.
Everything you do is unique;
you create another world
Your fleeting smile is the greatest gift
... and your touch...
Kissing you is perfect and innocent
Safe, like this bed and these
walls and this roof
Hold me; I want to
pretend that you feel the same way
and forget how I hate myself
and hate my body
This tear is for a happy moment
I had
It was with you, and
well, thanks.

He has a heart that
is pure
despite that day long ago
when his light was stolen
his heart broken
his reason for being gone,
leaving a hole in
his soul

He'll still eat dinner at eight
and cry into the late
hours of night

He was there when
her body fell.

I saw a leaf on the ground
stepped on, dry, cracked
and I felt sorry
But still it floated when the wind came up.

I saw the broken egg on the ground
below the nest
and I felt sorry
But still the others learned to fly.

I saw the ice cream on the ground
the child crying
and I felt sorry
But children are amazing; they don't stay sad.

In the middle of the desert
there is nobody
it is flat and barren, and the wind
stings with sand.
But still the cactus sings.

I like the roughness of bark and the feeling of sturdiness.
the texture, unique and familiar like a footprint fading in the sand,
more trustworthy than most things that grow and change
things like people unknowingly trained to lie
like fingernails that dig up flesh,
fingernails that were dead the moment they tried to breathe.

I like the scrape of bark on my bare feet.
After I flinch and almost stumble
My heart pounds; I feel real.
I hold the tree and it holds me.

One day I will put up a swing on that branch,
trust it more than words or feelings.
I'll swing in a sundress and feel the sky.
I'll sing to the tree that doesn't judge
and its leaves will whistle along into the wind.      

One day I'll climb up the trunk with bare feet.
I'll go past my branch and go higher
feel twigs snap and scratch; feel it smooth like velvet
At the top I'll have wings.

I'd like this to be my world, so simple
I like the way I feel alive, in the wind
with the song of the leaves
with sun-tickled skin and a head full of smiles
with bark under my bare feet.

I never told anyone that because they'd laugh.
I'm waiting for somebody who will listen
instead of waiting to talk
I'm waiting for someone to see me like
I can't see myself
and (if I'm honest, if I remember what honesty is)
to hold me back from running away.

Arms are more comforting than bark
but I wouldn't know.
Anyway, a branch won't die.

If you want to find me, I won't see you.
You can yell, but I'm not sure I will recognize
real words.
I've only heard screeches and barks, and lies.
I'll be at the top of a tree not looking down,
standing on a branch with bare feet
waiting to grow leaves or wings,
or for someone to sing and laugh or say my name,
or to help me remember love.

I think it
might have
maybe
been yesterday,
or the day before,
when it happened

Noticed the room was
different, and the silence was
all of a sudden empty

Realized what a glimmer is
because it
wasn't

Reached and grabbed air
felt my own nails press into my palms
squeezed my eyes  and i think a
tear dropped
swallowed into the hardwood and the silence

I think I stopped caring
I think I finally lost myself
in a memory forever
or a dream
it's so much easier, after all

better to be alone than to feel lonely...

there used to be a mirror in the corner,
and a window
i think i remember

i have scars from the broken glass
i'm white as a ghost
but i don't notice
besides, i'd rather not be
seen
i'd rather hide my red-eyed reflection and
the dust in my hair

maybe i died
but i don't know because that day,
yesterday or the day before,
i stopped feeling

perhaps it was
maybe
actually
a few years ago.