It was said that this year, our new year would be delayed by one second.  
And it wasn't until that one second when I paid mind to my breathing and my beating. They didn't match up.  
My head and my heart, they didn't match up.  My heart was bursting at the seams, but my head, well it was my head.  
It's 2017 and I can't help but feel as if I was just born, lost, yet full of wonder.
I can't help but just feel.

Yes, it is the new year.  But that one second felt so familiar.

Tonight I cannot sleep
Tonight my brain refuses to listen when I tell her hush hush
Tonight my thoughts stay vivid in a battle of what I shall fear tomorrow and what I cannot wait for my future to bring
Tonight my mind has decided to cut out the use of punctuation and large words
Instead it has made the decision to stay up and closely study your breathing
Tonight my brain has decided to memorize each sleepy sound your body evokes in hopes that one night, some night soon, I will be able to recognize the patterns your heart decides to beat in
I will stay up tonight only to focus on the song your soul softly sings to me when you are fast asleep
I will stay up tonight only to memorize your song
Tonight I cannot sleep
Tonight my brain refuses to listen when I tell her hush hush
Tonight my ears stay ringing with the song that seeps through your exhausted lips
Tonight my mind has decided to put on a screenplay beginning with the first moment you entered my life and ending with

S. Mia
June 17, 2016

The day the bridge between us and the "us" made up of her and yourself, collapsed, she made her way to me.  Displaying for me late into the night, the life you had planned together.  Screaming to me how I had ruined it all, going on and on about how I was just a void, making it clear that you would go crawling back to her.  She wasn't wrong but, that was before she knew you had room to grow.  
     I just want to know if you were aware of this plan.  Did you know of the marriage and children you had been signed up for?  Did you know that I was not included? I was not part of this plan.  I was a voyage you had set out for unprepared, yet, so ready to escape the war back home.
     There are nights when you've fallen fast asleep before me, nights when I close my eyes to the wonder of if your eyes and picture yourself in her arms.  There are mornings when you kiss me hard before your eyes have opened and I can't help but question if that's you kissing her goodbye.
     Do you ever miss her fist pinned against your skull.  Do you ever miss her independence and drive to beat on her own. Do you ever miss the ease that came along with not having to set your hopes sky high because she wasn't deserving.  
     She kept the best from you.  She wasn't ready to meet the man you were destined to become.  She was wrong about you.  She was wrong when she told me you'd never change because you change every other week.  She would feel so weak when she realized that she hadn't stunted your growth with the all the unwanted blows she placed upon your delicate body.  Her knees will become weak when she sees how we grew closer, became one and headed into this life; together.  
     Together now only because we had all met in pieces.  Together, we went through fire, sank to the bottom of the deepest sea and my god, I know we all thought we would have been better off if we just let ourselves drown.  But we did not.  We all kicked for the surface, stretching our last breath far beyond its existence.  We all made it and on the way up, we all found something new to fill our chests.
     We were never voids, just dismembered silhouettes searching for a heart to **** the love out of.  We live this life day by day, I live it with you and she lives it with him.  But as once lived it together.
     There are moments when past events hit us all at the same time and once again we are together, bound by thought, wondering where we would be if we would have followed the original plan; the plan that didn't consist of you and me.
                                   S. Mia
                          February 10 2015

How can it be that when I feel my throat swelling up and closing in; there are seven digits that will save me.

How can it be that when I cannot keep the life I was given, contained inside of me; there are seven digits that will take care of me.

How is it that when the entire world around me grows cold; There are seven digits that burn warmer than any fire.

It is true that when I can barely speak; There is a voice at the other end, belonging to those seven digits, rescuing me from this decades curse of technology.

Seven digits given to you only to be programmed in the palm of a hand.
Seven digits vibrating in my pocket, freeing me from the silence.
Seven digits acting as a second home, growing so important that without them, we are homeless.

We are paired up with seven digits, born with an entire world running through our fingertips yet, all it takes is the misplacement of one digit.  One wrong sequence, one missed call and we have lost ourselves completely.
                             S. Mia
                    October 14, 2015

I have this ongoing fear of time and space. Time being the way it's not that important, being as we can change our clocks depending on what part of the year it is but, it must be so very important because we base our every day lives on a round face.  Tick tick, timing our every decision, ticking time bombs we all are.  Ticking and pushing and pulling us all into the same space.  A space where emptiness and longing for anything but, is prominent.  Time is here; time is us.  Time and space, both made without hands.  Both holding more above our heads than what we hold inside of them.  Inside of our hearts, swimming through our veins.  Time and space, both without welcome, come every hour, leaving the next, filling our bodies with concern, anxiety and relief.  Space, allowing us the ability to rest, weep and strive.  
Alone, time creating the extra essence, giving us the opportunity to dissolve while waiting to decide who is worth all the time you have in this world because,
     shouldn't I live before I set off on the journey of death?
                        - S. Mia

A town full of everything wrapped in sheets, covered in white.
     Shy to the lake, holding more beauty than what's thought to be true.  
     Holding a little bit of me, holding a little bit of you.  
     These things, these ghosts, held inside or, besides glass walls. Containing us from this wonder we all carry.  
     How could a human, just like me, have the guts to cut four slits in their sheet?  Allowing them the availability to create something far beyond our beauty.  
     These objects, they walk besides us, in front of or behind us, each beating moment of our lives.
     They are the art that has grown so common, the art that  has grown so unnoticed.  Covered by a sheet, written upon it; "Only human"
     Well, nothing to see there, so we think.
     But, we don't know and we never will know that we live amongst eight million unopened museums, waiting.
     Just waiting for the ribbon to be cut.
     Just waiting for that white sheet to be
                           dropped.
                            - S. Mia

With you, I feel.
Without you, my pen would not move.
                          - S. Mia
                        June 30, 2015