Don't look back!
Let's dance forward...
amidst the waves of your ocean eyes.

-

What good is a strong hand if you nev­er touch?
What good is a kind heart if you nev­er love?

Stuck in a time after me,
and I haven't even been there yet.
A cloudy future seed
turning into a net.
Could that girl be me? -
after all of the tears and sweat..

To fall or be caught,
but never to surrender.
I hide to be sought -
undesirably tender.
The clock is ticking
but I'm still here.

Never a 20th century gem;
Never a tad more bruised;
Never a broken limb;
Just a young girl;
Just a 1990 time traveler -
stuck in space.
She leaves alone
without a trace.

Coming back broken-like,
being somewhere unbelonged;
maybe she is chosen-like:
She'll dance in the psych
of it all,
like it's just some kind of song.

A twist in the wind
and it's turned me around
What I once loved
is never to be found
Clueless little girl
that walked on sunshine
Now a wild beast
at the edge of her shrine
Pushed over
the edge of all she knows
She smiles
so it never really shows

I tend to fall in love with T.V. characters
who could never be real,
but I trick myself into thinking:
maybe they could be.

I tend to think everyone is homosexual
now that same-*** marriage is legal,
and I wonder if my boyfriend enjoys:
*** with a man behind my back.

I tend to reject any category or groupings,
meaning I prefer to stand alone,
thinking that it somehow:
makes me better than the rest.

I tend to pay no attention to the speaker
as they speak, but rather,
I listen to the words and imagine:
these words were meant for me.

I tend to wonder if I set my expectations too high,
or if my childhood was too perfect,
which causes me to picture:
a perfect fairy-tale as my future.

I tend to push my partners too hard,
often creating cynical tension
for lack of appeasement that goes something like:
thank you for the broken heart.

Self-conscious soliloquies ****** into tragedies
Will we ever love the right way?

So many slumbers as I sleep...
Do I dare ask again

What good is raging wars over past dues
When the new age hides in the corner of your kitchen

I know you have the fire to cook up some hope
But do you have the courage to live up to your dreams
So very squeezed and rinsed

Don't burn me

Trust only means wait in a world like this one
With so many pixies in the ear

I beg the day our towers reach the sky
Together, and alone

Will you ever love yourself like I do?

What is a shiny white stone
But a physical reminder of how bad we are

Underneath and on top
Folded in the sheets of the other's dreams
Never fully tucked in

Intro:

She sat silently on the hill, resting in the windy weathers. She was waiting for someone. No one had told her he wasn't coming. No one had told her she would wait in that very spot for quite some time before realizing she had to go. She was the hopeful type; a real believer in positive outcomes. She knew everything that went wrong would somehow end up right. She knew that when winter comes, it is a frigid world, but spring always follows. No matter how long the winter season, spring always follows...

Part 1:

So she sat there all winter, rusty and planted still. No one was there with her. Though she could see there were women on other hills, far away in the distance, none were on this one. She often wondered if they could see her too. She began to question her own existence. She began to forget about her past and question the significance of her future. Negative thoughts appeared in the clouds above her. She looked up in the face of the sky, looking for a reflection of herself, but no reflection was found.

Part 2:

After a long period of thinking herself silly, she began to sleep more often. Her mind was asleep when her eyes were closed; she found this  much easier. One day, she woke to the sun blinding her. A small bird dropped out of the sky and landed on her shoulder. The bird sang songs into her ears and circled her for hours. During this time, she began to think deeply. Was he ever going to show up? She had been waiting for him to come around all this time, but he wasn't coming. She had turned to the clouds to see her own face, but it wasn't there. She was still on this hill, but nothing had changed.

Outro:

She got up and began to walk down the hill, with the sun shining above her. It took her days to get to the bottom, but when she finally did, the scenery was amazing. She couldn't believe her eyes. She also couldn't believe she had stayed up there so long, missing out on this beauty. For a moment, she felt fear, being so far away from the sky, from herself, from everything she knew. She looked up quickly. To her relief, she saw her own reflection. She climbed the hill to try and find herself, but she had been down here all along, waiting. It was then that she understood. She was not waiting for him to return. She was waiting for herself to return. And returned she had. Spring had come.

Carrying a somewhat cliche heartbreak on her shoulders, she climbed the hill. She figured that all the men in the town would be able to see her up there, so high. Climbing, she contemplated her past relationship and how it had ended. She then tossed it off the hill on her way up, ready to receive a new presence from a new man. Knowing she deserved better, and knowing she would receive better, she had high hopes, but still, a gray aura surrounding her.

She knew that when the sun would set each night, it would glaze her silhouette with vibrant colors of passion and light, reeling in her new mate.The excitement aroused her. Waiting on that sun to go down each night, marking the end of each miserable say of waiting, she sat at the top of the hill.
The first few weeks were hard to watch. She planted a garden and sang and danced around its crops, from day to day. When she became tired, she would stop and sit and close her eyes. Sometimes she would open them, very wide at first, as if expecting a change of scenery. Her eyes would then droop in the realization that nothing had yet changed, but her tomatoes ripening.

I think it was about two months when the flowers in her garden began turning brown and dry. Her sister had stopped carrying water up to the hill for her, from the well. Whether she had asked her to stop, or whether she stopped on her own account, is a mystery to me. But she did stop. This water, was of course, for the girl, not the plants. There was plenty of rain, it being springtime and all. It was the lack of water that the girl was receiving that finally caused her to cease gardening.

Not only did her flowers grow brown, but her smile grew blue. It was that of a forced expression. It looked as if she was trying to convince herself of happiness, when in fact things had taken a volatile turn, downward.

After a long period of thinking herself silly, she began to sleep more often. Her mind was asleep when her eyes were closed; she found this  much easier. When her mind was turned on, she only thought about her past dreams sinking away. Hopelessly, she continued to sit on the hill, now in silence.

~

One early day, she woke to the sun blinding her. A small bird dropped out of the sky and landed on her shoulder. The bird sang songs into her ears and circled her for hours. The bird was doing for her, what she could not. During this time, she began to think deeply.

She thought of all the things that had happened to her. She thoughts of love, and lust, and hate, and life. She thought about the bird that had the strength to sing when she did not. She was ready to sing now. She was ready to dance again. She thought about how selfish she had been to her garden when she had stopped caring for it, because she could not even care for herself. She thought about all the time she felt she had wasted on this Hell of a hill. None of the townsmen had ventured forth; none had even called up to her for her to come down. They must have thought she was crazy!

Only three more days passed, before I looked through my telescope in awe. She had begun to walk down the hill, slowly, but surely. I thought, this must be a trick. Maybe she dropped a shoe. But both shoes were on, and the rest of her clothing, for that matter. She had a determined look on her face, as if she had transcended over night. It was beautiful, really.

As soon as she met the precipice of the hill and the meadow, she ran. She ran toward the trees, where the stream flows so elegantly. She dove in, headfirst, and played like a child, almost. She then got out and lay in the sun, on some grass nearby. She thought herself lame and unjust to spend so much time looking for another man, when she had had herself all along. She was happy alone; I could see it.

After a couple of hours, she got back up and walked over to the water. She crouched down in the kneeling position and then furthered her body toward the water, gazing in, as if hypnotized. She looked down at her own reflection and then screamed with joy. She jumped around and danced and sang. She was so ecstatic, I couldn't help but smile to myself with the utmost joy. She had found herself again. The one thing she hadn't been looking for, had come. And now that her soul had returned to her body, I could return to my life. In that moment, I knew that she was ready for me to go and meet her.

it is in our least comfortable corners
that we find a gap deep inside us
that we have a chance to fill with love

I couldn't tell you
how many poems I've read
about girls in disguises,
girls hiding in their closets,
girls acting like girls,
wishing they were something more...

This is not a poem about wishing,
but a poem of being.
This is not a cry for help,
but a song of assurance.
I am a girl, but I am no feminist.

You won't find me painting
on makeup each morning
for confident clarity.
{red blemishes flourish}

You won't find me tearing
my feet up each night
to look tall and fancy.
{bruises on the heel}

You won't find me wearing
a red push-up bra
for emotional support.
{endless back pain}

You won't find me shaking
while holding a gun
for protection.
{fear is stupidity}

I couldn't tell you
how many girls I've seen
doing these things,
over and over;
girls wishing they were something more...

This is not a poem about hope,
but a form of being.
This is not a scream of pity,
but an equalist view.
I am a girl, but I am no feminist.

I choose to be myself,
despite the boys who call me odd;
despite the girls with envious eyes.
I choose to play video games at 2am
and eat until I feel sick.
I choose to wear band tees to the bar
and go home alone.
I choose to say what I mean
and suffer the consequences.
I choose to wear less clothes,
and sometimes more,
when I want.

I've found someone
who loves me for who I am.
I've found two people, in fact.

There is a boy
who comes over
and I can call him my love;
I can call him my best friend.
There is a boy
who never judges
the boy in me;
the things I do.
There is a boy
who reminds me
a lot of a girl,
who picked flowers with her mom
when she was little.

And sometimes,
I put on makeup for you,
because I love you,
and I want you to know I'm proud.
Sometimes,
I'm proud of myself,
because I got the eye liner just right.
And sometimes,
I like acting fragile
so I can do less work
and watch as you tire in sweat.
Sometimes,
I even shout my worries to the sky.
But moderation is so important
in a time so rigid
with lust.

There is a girl
who is me,
and that boy
and that girl
both know who I am.

I am sick of complaints;
I am sick of the 1950's attitude;
I am sick of excuses;
I want to see action;
and I don't mean a protest.

And maybe you like
being a girl.
Maybe you dress up
purely for yourself,
and no one else.
But that doesn't explain
the things that you say
in public and in retrospect,
as tears fall down your cheek,
and knives glide off your tongue.

I see more of it every day --
girls just like me.
You are only weak if
you believe that you are.
You are only a girl
if you think that you are.
I am a human being,
and so are you.

I am no feminist.

"I found this guy named God...he was sooo hot, like me. So we had some kids and gave them a place to stay on Earth," she explained.
"What did he think of you?"
"Oh, he thought I was a complete *****, but he loved me anyway."
"How many kids did you have?"
"Oh, hundreds..."
"Wow..."
"They're all so distant now, no wonder they're all so messed up."
"Where is God now?"
"Who knows... he refuses to speak to me."
"Oh, you Devil, you."
"Oh hush.. at least I didn't have a million children like Horus.. that *****."

I remember when you called me Cupcake
And said that everything would be okay
Then the very next day
You broke my heart
With scars on your wrists
And ice in your eyes
A little piece of my heart turned to dust
And there's still a gap there
Tugging at every relationship
I attempt to unfold

Are you a brush for my golden hair,
or a sharp dagger - so rare?;
Small pinches of my skin stand up,
in applauds, for your arrival,
but the question of survival still remains:
A swift sea? Or an endless night?
Something in between?
I am no owl, but I can see in the dark.
I am no dog, but I'll run if you strike.
Watch as the sun fades, then grows again.
It shrinks as the light fills me, so warm.
Can we share?; Can we love,
with an endless melody, rather than
an excerpt of being?
Whether yin or yang, I still see the air between.
Is it just you, or only me?
Be my daggerbrush,
because my hair still needs to be cut
after some time --
So, keep me in line,
and I'll look after you, truly.

Are you a brush for my golden hair,
or a stunningly sharp dagger - so rare?;
Small ends of my skin stand up
in applause for your arrival,
but the question of survival still remains:
A garden of day? Or a garden of night?
I am no owl, but I can see in the dark.
Normally a dog runs at a strike,
But I may look back, I might,
As I watch the sun fade...then grow again:
It shrinks as the light fills me, so warm!
As we share; can we love,
with an endless melody, rather than
an excerpt of being?
Whether yin or yang, I still see the air between...
Is it you too, or only me?
Be my daggerbrush,
because my hair still needs to be cut
after some time --
So, keep me in line,
and I'll look after you, truly.

America, when I was little, you told me we were Free.
I didn’t know you meant that I could choose to drink ******* in a Can versus Sodium Citrate and Sugar.
I didn’t know you meant I could practice any Religion as long as it was Traditional and nothing New.
I didn't know the Second Amendment would later be a Symbol of Futility.
I didn’t know Thanksgiving was just a celebration of Slaughter and an overdose of Food.
I didn't know that if I was ever briefly Depressed or Confused, you would Prescribe me some Pill worth Millions.

When I was little, I didn’t notice the rapid Rise of Cigarettes and Alcohol taking over the Century before Me.
I didn’t notice the number of people watching the News.
I didn’t notice the thousands of people who were Hungry, while we stuffed our Faces Each Day.
I didn’t notice I was a part of these Things.

When I was little, I didn’t see all of the unneeded destruction.
I didn’t see a reason for War over Power, Land, or Money.
I didn’t see what the Big Fuss was about Politics.
I didn’t see any reason To Live, other than to be Happy and make others Happy.
I didn’t see the Bad in People, like I do Today.

America, when I was little, I knew Everything, and Now I know Nothing.
I was innocent and Now I am Corrupted.
When I was little, my biggest Crime was picking my nose in Public.
I also may have stolen Candy from the Teacher, who Never got Paid Enough.

When I was little, I Painted and I Loved. I played with Animals and read all kinds of Books. Those Stories Taught Me Things.
They taught Me about You, America, and Everything that You’re Not.
They taught me that You don’t actually Care about Me, or my Mom or Dad, or my Brother, and definitely not my Cat.
They taught me not to Trust anyone and to Believe in my Instincts and Myself.
They taught me that you Worship false Idols and don’t Live by what you Speak.
They even taught me that there Is a better way, but America doesn’t Want to Change.

Today, I know what America really Is. I know that Everything is Subjective and Nothing is Anyone’s Fault. I also know that even though you Hate us, America, We still Love you, because
You are our Home.
I know We can Change, but I also Know it will take Time.
The Books also taught me that Time is Irrelevant and everything Happens for a Reason,
So even though I know how Cruel you are, America… I Know it will be Okay. And I know you don’t mean Any Harm. It is just Who you Are.

America, when I was Little,
You told Me, I could be Anything I wanted,
And that is exactly What I am Doing Now,
Despite your Laws and your Legions. I Will Find a Way to make Change, One Person at a Time, Starting with Me.
America, if you weren’t so Hostile, I’d have no Work to do, and no Light to Share, so Thank You, America.
Call me Crazy, But I Love You.

He led her through two large wooden doors, into the unknown.
She walked the tiles of the Japanese floors inside the Temple;
pondering about and peering on the wonders of a new world.
She almost swooned at the sights! Wanted to faint in exultation..

"What a beautiful place," she exclaimed, then continued with:
"If only I could live in such a place, and even that wouldn't suffice
all that I have missed in my own corner of the Earth, all these years.
All should see what I see here! All should experience
such a different way; the way which I have seen now; here."

He looked down upon her petite structure with confusion
and said "You have safety in your home; people die here
every day; struggle to survive; try to escape a hell
each morning rise again. This is no place for you.
Do you know what it is like to fear for your life?
Do you know how much training it takes just to know
you are safe from harm?"

She absorbed his sentences, but remained
unchanged in her thoughts. She responded with dignity:
"But it is an honest life.
Where I come from, we are living in a lie,
and more than half of our people don't even question it;
or even realize such things.
Sure, your body is not safe here, in this place,
but where I come from, your soul is not safe.
And the way I see it -- I'd much rather a sword
strike my back,
then a thought
haunt my being.
Everyone is escaping something."

I realized I had been chasing a fantasy my entire life;
that what I had wanted more than anything, was not real.

Immediately,

shock subsided as the intense sensations of stomach movements prevailed...

What kind of world is this?

What kind of place are we living in,
where { we can imagine what is perfect to us,
but never obtain it } ?

I am broken from defeat.
I am ready for the next world.

Small and black, or maybe red
Tiny feet and a tiny head
If an ant like this were to walk into sight
I would let it be
**** it, you might
That is not me
That is not right
Because you are bigger, you think you are better
But life is life, and weather is weather
You could be born small some day
And when you are,
I hope they scare you away
Or maybe stomp on your flesh
You'll be small and black, or maybe red
But after they stomp,
You will be dead

when venturing down a long pale road,
one cannot plan to become tan,
but only to be burnt
in the end.

sometimes
the road to a happy ending
goes off course
but no matter who is driving
you are both in the same car
finding your way
back on the path
to happiness
together
as one

Here I am,
sitting here,
taking this personality test,
and it's as if,
I don't know the answers
to questions
that have no wrong answers;
it's like I don't know
myself
anymore.

As women,
we can learn to love anyone --
taking them in as our children,
but to fall into love is another matter
that involves not a mother's choice,
but a man's wisdom:
to love himself,
to care for his woman,
and to plan for his future,
rather than to be the child of his woman
who must sweat each day away
with the worries of his worship.
All a woman yearns for is his affection,
which a man is most hesitant to give
at times when he must show strength
in place of grace,
and anger in place of empathy.
Even as these things roll off his shoulder,
a woman may continue to love tenderly,
for that is what a woman is;
born into life to comfort those in need --
whether child or man, monster or husband,
she cannot resist
to allow one evil spirit to leave this world swiftly,
untouched by the hands of an angel.

Isn't it sad to watch a flower die?
Isn't it ironic that we're so happy when we pluck one from the Earth;
a happy and senseless ******.

Plucking is a lot like loving.
We want it to be ours. We can't just let it grow and let it be;
a selfish interruption of the naked soul.

We dress it in suits and ties, don't we?
It's important for things to appear as though they aren't tainted;
like true love awoken from myth.

But underneath her red velvet dress,
lie insecurities, a lock, and a key, to make sure he never leaves;
a trap for the foolish and the sweet.

The flower wilts inside the vase,
unable to breathe and spread its roots around the world;
love enclosed with foreshadowed defeat.

Zillion die beneath and above,
dying for you to experience love.
Energy passing through, signal that fades;
visible mass, joys while it stays.
Unknowing becometh,
blood-sewing bays;
worth every penny,
worth every day.
Mindless and mindful,
alike and the same.
Differently brewing,
'Swhy we all came.
One more here, one more there;
and silence speaks
what you could not dare.
Stride of light and a wave of sound,
Right here-there, right here-now.

This prison holds me tight
and spits on me,
but I will not show weakness
and I will not give in.
For, the battle may be won,
but the war has just begun.

I used to go to bed at midnight
every night before I met you.
I used to build houses out of dreams
that I made up on a whim.
I used to go outside and stare at the stars,
looking for two that match.
Then I found a light shining from afar;
it wasn't in the sky, and it didn't make much sense.
It felt like I had been asleep,
and then I woke for the very first time.
I had risen from dreams time and time again;
I had lifted myself over and over,
but no one else had carried me.
Then as you looked down on me,
like nothing else was more important than our gaze,
I felt something strange like never before;
I never wanted to sleep again.

I jumped up and down,
moving with the crowd,
and couldn't help but notice how happy I was
as I screamed and smiled,
I finally realized I was tripping from the sublingual dosage,
which I had failed to notice in the midst of things..
crawling up my spine,
the rush of the peak subsided
and nothing changed at all;
as if the music had been just enough;
I was already tripping;
as if I didn't need the drug --
your music brought me home.

I hate everyone.
Girls for being stupid.
Guys for being *****.
What the **** am I?
Can’t I be enough?
Do I have to file into one of these meaningless categories?
I thought life was about love.
I didn’t know it was about being stupid and *****.
I knew I was an alien.
Maybe a robot?
I just want to love and be loved back.
No secrets.
What am I?
Who is this man in my bed?
He’s been here for two years.
He must be here for the ***;
Everything else is an illusion.
I never get to ***.
I don’t care though,
I’d rather watch T.V. and do it myself later,
or not. I could go months…
What am I?
He’s an animal. They all are.
The dogs and the *******,
they both ****.
I hate everyone.
He still has photos of random girls
on his webpage history,
and we have *** every night!
What more do you want, **** it?
I hate you! I hate you!
I saw that message from an ex-girlfriend of yours…
Did you really go over there?
What did you all do?
Each other?
Why else would you go there…
Love is simple;
It’s guys and girls that are complicated.
What am I?
Help.
I’m clean. I’ve got nothing
but a beat up past that taught me a bunch.
Guess you aren’t done learning.
******* horndog
..s. All of you!
And stop telling me how to play Call of Duty.
This is my Xbox, not yours.
You’re the one with anger issues anyway.
You ****.
The thought of your **** in another *****
makes me queasy.
The cells of her **** possibly touching mine
through secondhand-bone?
Disgusting.
I must go get tested as soon as I find the truth.
I hope you know I ******* hate you.
Even your most genuinely sweet smile
will now be contorted in my mind
as a trick of the Devil.
Every kindness you make will be blocked against you
as a curse.
That’s what you are, love – a curse.
I hate you.
But what if you’re innocent?
Maybe you didn’t go?
Is there actually a Prince Charming out there?
If there is, it’d be you –
That’s what worries me.
If it isn’t you, I’m doomed.
There is no one.
I think it’s all fake.
I’m brainwashed.
I saw those movies too young.
Or maybe too old?
And now I’m making you look bad,
because we all know how good you really are to me.
I just wish you could keep it in your pants
for one week
while this yeast infection goes away.
Can any of you resist the urge to constantly ****?
Maybe I’m worrying for nothing…
I should probably sleep on the couch tonight,
enjoy the salty tears,
because we all know they taste pretty **** good.
But this bed is so warm and comfy next to you,
and when we wake up, you smile at me and make us coffee.
You’re never away from me for too long.
Remember that time I saw a saved snapchat of a girl in a hot dress
and I accused you of cheating?
Ended up, she was a famous person.
Silly me.
I hope that’s what this is this time too,
or something like that.
At least I own a gun now, so I can **** myself
if it really comes down to it.
Chill, I’m kidding.
I think.
But being alone? Man that would ****.
Almost as much as you all ****.
At least I’m not you all.
What am I?
I still hate you, but I’m tired,
and I need to go to sleep.
Maybe my dreams will show me an answer.
I just want this feeling in the pit of my stomach to go away.
I just want you to love me like I love you.
Every day you say it,
but I guess I'll never truly know.
I love you.
****.

highway run
ticker top
stay here now
bottom drop
no way out
caving in
boredom gloss
doused with sin
green light red light
harlequin
loading dock
broken fin
filling up
lifted chin
picking up
halfway runaway
all the things
with no better way
toss the clock
counting down
something sweet
like a sound
use it up
what's to lend
for better use
in the end

melancholy music
and strings like water droplets
line my insides
and leak outward
like ten
different kinds of plasma
that no one can interpret

I’m borderline introvert, extrovert
Don’t try to tell me who I am
Through a test
I am nothing you’ve seen yet
Apples and oranges
But I’m a tangerine with a slice of green
And I’m borderline upset with the world
I try to understand
I try to make it right
Go and feed my cat
Fall asleep at night
But you can’t tell me who I am,
'Cause I’m sitting on the borderline
Going every direction
There’s no end
Are you gonna pay for that *******?
Count my tens
Then start again
This is a metaphor for your mind
But let your soul think free
I’m just a ***** for your hind
Come and get me

she never liked the others
the ones that always talked
but never walked

she looks in the mirror sometimes
and knows she can be like them on certain days

she still doesn't like them

not even the ones who walk a little

but when she goes home at night
with no one else around
she feels lonely and wonders what the others are doing

Chomsky is a bit too pessimistic for my taste,
and it's strange to me how a Linguist does not believe in connectivity;
for, communication is connectivity;
every word connects to another
to form an idea, or a purpose.

Astrology has been around far longer than Astronomy,
and yet, people throw it aside as voodoo...
People saw these unseen forces and connections
long before they saw the connections within Science or Mathematics.
Trust and Love don't have a definite formula which we can see,
but they happen at a certain Time and Place.
If you believe in Karma at all, you know:
Nothing is a coincidence.

When you do something Good,
you put Positive energy out into the world,
and it is much more likely to come back to you
than Negative energy,
But these changes occur so rapidly and unseen,
that we have no way of comprehending their formula.
Each Negative action could be counteracted with a Positive,
and Vise Versa.
We look at Nature's mutations and call them Imperfect,
but that is just our idea of Perfection that we have created.
We expect things to go systematically, like Chomsky says,
we see things in forms of Machines.

But even in Machines, there are Mutations and/or Imperfections.
These are not Mutations at all, or Imperfections. These are just another part of the System, created by Nature.
We expect Nature to be: ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta;
not: ta-ta-lalalalala-ta-ta,
and so, when this happens, we call it a Mutation,
yet it keeps happening throughout Nature and Time.
Even the machines that we create, do this very same thing.
Even our DNA. Even Language.
All these things happen from Connections...
with others, with ourselves, with people we've never met,
with objects, with animals, with our bodies, with thoughts and feelings...
This all comes back to what we call "Karma".

It is hard for me to believe that there is not an unseen force or
Higher Power;
when I say this, I don't necessarily mean God or Heaven or Hell,
or anything religious at all; these are just terms in which
we describe the same things differently.
I do not believe in a Higher Power because I want to go to heaven,
or because I want my parents to be happy after Death.
I believe there is a Higher Power,
because there is proof all around us...

The cells inside our body have no idea why they do their job each day,
kind of like us Humans,
yet we go on living the way we do, performing the tasks
that we're meant to perform.
You could argue that cells don't have a conscious,
or that animals don't, for that matter,
so they have no way of thinking about or comprehending
Life.

But I believe the opposite.
There is no way for us to shrink down and understand
the way that each organism lives,
but it does live.
All things are equal, and though smaller organisms may not grasp
what we grasp;
We may not grasp, what other organisms in the Universe grasp.
Cells and organs live inside of our bodies:
As we live inside of Earth;
It is hard for us to know what is Beyond that.

One thing I know for sure,
depending on your definition of "Reason",
we do live for a reason,
just as the cells in our bodies live to keep us Alive.
Is it possible we are keeping something bigger than us
Alive?

It may not matter to us, since it is an unseen Force,
but the force is certainly there,
which leaves the Explanatory Gap between Science
and the Mind, and Action.
It is there. It is happening. We cannot explain it.
Maybe we never will, so as Chomsky says,
"We live, then turn to dust, and that is all we are."
But that is just a way of looking at things,
like saying the glass is half empty.
I like to think mine is half Full.

If everything did not Connect,
we would not do things for others,
we would not work,
we would not talk,
we would not be human,
we would be Nothing, as we know it.

So, yes, I believe all is connected.
I believe there is no such thing as coincidence.
I believe Mutation and Chaos are an equal part of Nature,
and they represent a Pattern so vast,
which supports a much, much larger Equation to Life
than we can understand Now.
This, I believe.

winter coffee
l o o k i n g  b a c k . . .
now reflecting
o n  m y  p a s t . . .

passive attacks
wishing wells
emerald eyes
silent spells

spring coffee
i t ' s  s o  f a r  . . .
new beginnings
s t a y  w h e r e  y o u  a r e  . . .

listening
to what could be
watching
myself to see

summer coffee
f u l l  c i r c l e . . .
cannot wait
l i g h t  d i s p e r s a l . . .

bumpy tides
turn to gold
joyful times
we grow old

fall coffee
i  c a n ' t  w a i t . . .
time to change
n e v e r  t o o  l a t e . . .

it's just
a common reaction
to her
lunar skin
it's just
a summoned attraction
from your
soul within

I straightened my hair
And got ready for the day;
Another day without you here…
Just another normal Saturday.

“Hey! Over here! Don’t you see me still?”
I don’t understand. Who gives me these chills?
“It’s me, Jayne Mansfield.
Won’t you come out to play?”

Don’t talk to me that way.
I don’t know you.
“You’re wasting away your day!
What else is there to say?”

Leave me alone.
You’re not my friend;
How do I put these strange thoughts
To an end?

“It’s me, Lady Diana, Queen of the Land;
I’ve come to free you from slavery
And give you a hand.”
Leave me now! and that’s a demand!

”Now, hold on one moment;
I may not be Queen,
But you are still speaking
to supreme royalty…”

What? Who are you?
Are you friends with them too?
“I am Grace Kelly,
The Princess of Doom.”

Shoo! Shoo! I don’t need you.
I need my best friend
Who was lost in her youth…
Just gone – like, ****.

“It’s alright,” said sweet Jayne,
Kneeled down on all fours…
“It’s okay,” said the Queen,
Who cried even more…

“Don’t be scared,” said the Princess,
Who just wasn’t sure
How to convince me that death
Unfolds into something much more…

"Live on," they all chanted,
and all I heard was love
coming from the voices
which now lived above.

you yearn for freedom
then you crush it

you ask for time
yet you rush it

you preach equality
then ban all others

you look for knowledge
yet hide under covers

you want perfection
then you complain

you ask for sanity
yet behave insane

you say this is home
then tear down the flag

your heritage unknown
yet willing to brag

you ask for no lies
then don't believe truth

you ask for more money
our debt's through the roof

you look for happiness
and you long for peace

you hold onto a grudge
but you need release

you say you're a dreamer
but you don't believe

that we can do anything
that we can perceive

damp air
from rain before
long hair
in the breezy shore
looking out
the ocean near
looking back
shedding tears
moving on
something new
walking on
getting through

i skipped days 1 and 2
to be with me and you

also, i was in shock

knock
knock
knock

who could it be?
a little bit of him and a little bit of me!

Dead Puppy, Broken Men
add opening narration/exposition/explanation; scenario with Jared

Yesterday:

"I've felt alone my entire life. Please don't make me be alone when I'm with you," Shellie begged Jared.
"You're not alone. I love you," was Jared's reply.
"But you won't open up to me."
"It's just really hard. I've always been this way."
"But why?" Shellie desperately yearned for the answers she would never find. "You need to love yourself, or you will never truly love me. You won't be able to."
"I do love you."
"Maybe you just think you do. Saying 'I love you' doesn't make it true. You have to show me that you love me. I can't handle this much longer. Nothing has changed in two years. Nothing."
"I know," Jared begins to cry, "I'm sorry. I really am."
"Don't cry please."
Jared looks away at the black T.V. screen in Shellie's apartment. He is silent for a long time, but eventually Shellie is able to pry his entire childhood out of his sewn-shut lips. She wouldn't take silence for an answer. Not anymore. If Jared hadn't come home, Shellie would have spoken to no one all day. She liked her alone time, but depended on Jared to be her right-hand-man, her main squeeze, her soul mate, and right now -- he simply wasn't being that. He was being something else; a subject of inspection, a psych-ward patient; a lost friend, who she longed to have back.
"Thank you for telling me," Shellie said as she squeezed his shoulders from behind, comforting him with tiny pecks on his cheeks. "Things make more sense now."
Jared said nothing the rest of the night. He instead sketched photos of slimy creatures with clenched teeth into his notebook, creating meticulous lines, surrounding the figure, as if it were travelling through time and space, into a new dimension, far away from this one.

---
Today:
"Did you know that there is a lizard that can only be female, and they don't have ***, they just clone themselves?" Brannan asked Shellie, his best friend.
"I wish I was that lizard..." Shellie sighed.
"What! Why!" Brannan exclaimed with confusion and worry.
"Because. *** messes everything up. I don't know...Maybe I'm just crazy," she stammered, looking for the right words.
"It's Jared, isn't it?" Brannan asked, already knowing the answer, because he knew Shellie.
"Yeah...I'm giving him one more chance. One more and that's strike three, you're out!" She laughed nervously.
"Ooookay," Brannan agreed, "one more chance."
Eli glanced up from the TV and looked at Shellie, wondering how anyone could hurt someone so sweet. But what did he know? He killed people for a living.
"What did he do?" Eli pried.
"I don't want to talk about it anymore. I've talked about it enough. All guys are the same."
"That's not true," Brannan tilted his head to the side in pity.

"The king is here!" Andy announced, as he walked through Brannan's door with a pound of **** in his canister, which was covered in skateboarding stickers and graffiti. Everyone cheered, and Brannan stopped playing Call of Duty, put down his Xbox controller, and picked up the pack of rillos that Eli had bought prior to coming over.
"That game ain't nothing like real life anyway," Eli mentioned, as he put down the other controller and everyone hastily made their way over to the kitchen table. He walked over to the freezer to pull out some Jack Daniels and ice, then went to the cabinets for a glass, turning his army cap backwards, pouring his drink, and taking a swig.

"How much do I owe you?" Brannan asked.
"We'll talk later," Andy replied.
"I was going to tell you, I still don't have what I owe you from last time, but Alexa said there is an opening at Starbucks, so I'll be able to pay you back ASAP man. I really appreciate it."
"Yeah, no problem," Andy said disdainfully.
"I'll roll it!" Shellie yelled to break the tension, as she put down her phone, only to pick it up again to check the time. Her boyfriend would be off work soon. Would she have to text him first again? Was he even thinking of her?
"Go for it!" Brannan tossed the rillo pack to her.
As she was finishing the roll, her phone went off. Shellie believed that maybe there was hope after all.
"Nope, just my dad..." Shellie mumbled to herself and sighed.
"What's wrong?" Brannan asked, with concerned blue eyes, through his thick-rimmed, black glasses.
"It's just Jared," she said as she pushed her lips to one side and looked down at her phone.
"What did he say?” Brannan asked.
“That’s the problem. He hasn’t said anything all day,” she explained in distress. Brannan noticed she hadn’t worn makeup in days, and by the looks of her outfit, she hadn’t been doing daily yoga like usual.
“Maybe he’s just super busy?” Brannan asked reluctantly.
“HE’S busy?? No. I’M busy.” She paused as Andy and Eli raised their eyebrows and widened their eyes. Eli was confused, because she had always seemed happy whenever he saw her. "I'm in school AND I have three jobs. What does he have? ONE job. One. I think he has time to text me, thanks for your input though."
Brannan said nothing, but pressed his teeth together and opened his lips, revealing a worried look with sad eyes, toward his dear friend.
"Yeah. He just doesn't get it. I'm a fire sign and I'm full of passion! Well, partially an air sign, which is probably why I’m so forgiving and understanding. But if he doesn't reciprocate soon, I feel like I'm going to go insane! Like, really? You don't want to go see Star Wars with me? What kind of person are you? Who doesn't like Star Wars? Really though," Shellie added.
"Maybe he's already seen it and doesn't want to tell you," Brannan suggested.
"You think so? Who would he go see it with though? All of his friends have already seen it. Do you think he saw it with his ex?! Oh my God..."
"Here, take this," Eli said as he handed the blunt to Shellie.
She took a big puff and exhaled as she closed her eyes in relief.
"You know what. I'm overthinking this. He just gets anxious in public, that's all," Shellie explained and looked around for reassurance.
"Are you sure that's all?" Brannan asked as he swung his black bangs away from his face.
"I don’t know... He's really mysterious and quiet. It's really hard for him to open up, I think. He didn’t really have a dad growing up. He's gotten better at talking to me, but he's still weird around big crowds of people. He never wants to go anywhere with me. It *****. I think he's learning to get better though. Maybe he's just young, I don’t know, but I'm sick of acting like his mother, you know? Why can't he learn things on his own? We're all scared, but if you don't face your fears at some point, then what's the point?"
Andy couldn’t help but think she sounded like a nagging *****.
"You know you just partially described the personality of a serial killer, right?" Brannan asked with comedic horror on his face.
"Did I?" Shellie asked.
"You deserve better!" Brannan's mom yelled from the living room. She was watching some reality TV show that she shouldn't have been watching. She continued to Shellie, "You deserve someone who takes you out and treats you right! You're a sweet girl!"
Shellie looked down at her phone. Still no text.
"Do you want to hit this?" Shellie yelled to Brannan's mom.
"I'm good, thank you though! I've got to finish these lesson plans for the day care," she explained with a sigh.
"Aww, sounds kinda fun," Shellie said. Shellie had thought about being a teacher, or maybe a counselor, but after helping so many people with different problems, she was starting to second-guess her passion for it.
"Nice blunt," Andy complimented Shellie. He thought Shellie was kind of cute, now that he had caught Eli in Alexa's bed and was no longer drawn to her. Despite her messy hair and mix matched attire, she had things together. She had things going for her. What did Andy have going for him?
"Thanks," Shellie smiled. Jared hated blunts, but he loved cigarettes. It made no sense to her.
"So what have you been up to?" Eli asked Shellie. "It's been a while."
"Just busy, busy. School and work, you know,” she said as she took one final puff before passing the blunt on its way, into the final circulation, never to return to her. She wanted to ask Eli about his life, but knew he couldn't say much, so she just went back to her phone.
Eli looked at Alexa, "Cigarette?" he asked.
"Yes," everyone except Shellie replied.
They all went outside in the freezing cold to get a brief buzz, while Shellie stayed inside, in the warmth, jotting down new business plans for her yoga studio into her phone. She then opened one of her books, but couldn’t focus on the text, so she quickly closed it. She then sat there in jaded silence, waiting for her friends to return from their strange endeavor.

"All the girls at my work are such *******! Like, one day I think they're my friend, then the next day I'm like, who are you?" Alexas was saying to her mom in between inhales and exhales.
Brannan looked at Alexas then at Eli with a look of concern and distaste. His mom noticed his expression and gave a brief response of agreement with her eyes, quickly returning to her daughter's concerns with compassion and empathy.
"Like, Kate said she wanted to hang out and everything, then she just doesn't respond. What the Hell?"
"Yeah, you probably just shouldn't be friends with them," Brannan replied.
"I have to be! I work with them," Alexas explained.
Knowing it was a lost cause, Brannan turned toward the glass door, where one of his cats pawed at the frame. “Aw, look at Izzy,” he said, pointing.
“Awwww,” his mom replied as she sipped on white Beringer.
“Let her out,” Brannan said to Alexa, since she was next to the door ****.
“No! She’ll run away,” Alexa said.
“No she won’t,” Brannan argued, as he made his way behind his sister, slightly pushing her, and letting Izzy outside.
She looked at everyone, let out a small meow, then hopped down into the grass, under a bush, and out of sight.
“Look what you did!”Alexas said, raising her voice.
“She’ll be back…” Brannan assured her, with ****** eyes.
Alexas rolled her eyes and Brannan continued, “She just wants to be free, Al.”
Their mom watched Izzy as she scurried into the neighbor’s yard. “Yeah, she’ll be back,” she said.
Then Eli turned to Andy and said, "You trying to play Call of Duty?"
"Sure," Andy agreed, though all he could think about was how Eli had been in Alexa's sheets the week before. “I’ll ******* **** you dude.”
“Yeah right,” Eli said as he let out a laugh, not knowing that he knew what he knew.

Alexa went to the living room with her mom, and Brannan returned to his spot at the kitchen table next to Shellie. Smoke stained the air, as Brannan picked up his phone and began playing a Pokémon game. Shellie tried to act interested, but all she could think about was Jared. Eli and Andy finished shooting each other and came back to form a circle.
“Bowl?” Brannan asked.
“That’s okay,” Shellie said, “I’m trying to cut back.”
“What…” Brannan said in disbelief. He packed the bowl anyway and handed it to her.
“Naw,” Shellie said.
“Yaw! Brannan yelled.
“No.”
Brannan handed the bowl to Andy and as Andy hit the bowl, he turned to Eli and said, "Hey, so if someone sat 12 million dollars in front of you, and a puppy in front of you, and said: The money is yours, you just have to crush this puppy to bits. Would you do it?" He looked at everyone as if he already knew the answer; as if it was obvious. Andy waited for everyone else to reply first. Brannan had no intentions of replying, since he was trying to be Christ-like lately.
"No, I wouldn't do it," Shellie said.
"Are you serious?!" Eli asked with pure shock on his sun-kissed face.
"Yes, I'm serious. Would you do it?" She leaned forward, almost rocking out of the tall bar stool she was sitting on.
Brannan and Eli chimed in, "You would SO do it."
"I would SO not." She repeated angrily, hitting the blunt and blinking her brown eyes to moisten her contact lenses.
Brannan's younger sister walked into the room to sit down, and Shellie looked to her for an answer. "Would you??" She looked at her with eyes of a beggar's, pleading for understanding and empathy.
"Do what?" Alexa asked, and the boys repeated the scenario, talking with utter excitement.
"A puppy? A cute little puppy?" Alexa asked.
"Yeah, a puppy or 12 million dollars," Andy coaxed.
"I couldn't do it! I could never do that!" Alexa gasped. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t!”
"That's what I'm saying," Shellie agreed. "I'm not even a dog person, but I would grab the puppy and run! Maybe report that guy to the animal police or whatever."
"Yeah!" Alexa agreed, as she took off her Starbucks sun visor and laid it on the table, next to Brannan’s laptop, Eli’s sketches, Andy’s backpack, and Shellie’s books.
"You all are crazy!" Andy said. "If the money was right in front of you, you'd do it, no question."
"No," Alexa and Shellie both said firmly.
"You'd just have to see the money, right there in front of you, in person," he kept on going.
Eli took a sip of his whiskey, then made stomping motions with his feet and said, "Haha! Gone! 12 million dollars richer. You know what you can buy with that much money? Tons of new puppies, if you really wanted to." He laughed.
"Yeah, you could **** me and make tons of new friends, too," Shellie said as she rolled her eyes in disgust.
"That's not the same though," Brannan finally spoke. "We don't know this puppy like we know you."
"Well someone does," Shellie insisted.
"Maybe," Brannan replied.
"Someone could," Alexa said. "Unless you **** him."
"Who said it's a boy?" Shellie asked sheepishly.
"You're right. It should be a girl," Alexa agreed, "like sweet little Lola over here." She scooted her chair from the table, and beneath her feet lay her sleeping Border Collie. She got up from her seat and lowered herself to the floor, head to head with the dog. She touched her nose to the dog's nose, kissed the dog’s cheek, and patted her head before returning to her peers on the bar stools above.
Everyone went silent, and Shellie wondered if the boys felt ashamed - so obsessed with power, that they forget to love.

---
Yesterday:

"You know how I told you that I didn't really know my dad growing up?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, it's because he was in jail for a while."
"How come?"
Looking around, as if for help or guidance, Jared hesitated to say what would come next.
"What is it??" Shellie pleaded, her imagination running wild with fear and worry.
"He ***** me."
"W-what..." Shellie was taken aback. She would have never guessed this is what all Jared's anger had stemmed from. Life flashed before her like a lightning bolt. It surged through her entire body, carrying memories of her perfect childhood juxtaposed next to Jared's. She thought of all the times she had met Jared's dad. She thought of how they worked in the same office, and Jared had to see his face every single day. She wondered how deeply this must affect his life, and how little she had noticed. Had she misjudged him completely? Why were all of her boyfriends so damaged? Was she drawn to damage? What if he ended up like his father? She wanted to help him. She had to.
"But how? Or... Like, where?! Did your mom know?"
"That's why she divorced him. He used to rent hotels on the weekends and tell my mom he was taking me along on his business trips. It wasn't until I was seven... I started having nightmares. I couldn't wake up. I'd scream and yell, telling him to get off me."
"Oh, Jared. I love you so much. You know that? I'm here for you. **** him. You don't need him. Your mom is great, and your little brother loves you. I love you. It's surprising how great you turned out, honestly."
"Yeah..." Jared said, slightly offended, but also in agreement.


* note for author from author: add scene with Alexa and Lola -- Lola biting her over and over. He's hurting me, ow!! "She just let her bite her. Over and over again." She did nothing about it. She endured the pain.
Shellie teaches Brannan how to "train" his dog.. play with her, be her friend. She just wants to play. She doesn't want to watch us smoke **** all day. You have to act like a dog sometimes if you want her to love you and be good.
reference to god's of love.. maybe venus and mars
- add more in between blunt roation.. it burns too fast
- create more setting!! (vital)
- add physical fight between Eli and Andy
- add scene with brandon's dad at very beg

She couldn't decide who she wanted to be,
so she was everyone.

She couldn't decide what she wanted to do,
so she did everything.

This
was better than being no one;

This
was better than doing nothing,

as many are, and many do...

She
was not them.

She
was different.

I'd never live with an antique fool,
but I'd lie in his bed for an hour or two,
and I'd comfort his skin
with my silky youth.

My Husband would never understand;
he does not know the definition of love,
and neither do you, I bet.
But I know.

I will tell him what could have happened
in the old man's chamber,
or what may have occurred in the young girl's bathroom,
but it would not matter.

For, it did not happen.
If it had, my Husband would be furious.
Unforgiving; our marriage would be tarnished --
over what could have been two eventful nights,

But no! No, this is wrong.
How could I--- What could I have done?
To love one for a century,
with no hopes of touching another soul.

No hopes of flightful risk
that should be no risk,
or care that seems careless.
That couldn't be love, now could it?

I know Love is not a cage,
though we make it that way.
It is like a flower in a vase;
so beautiful and possessed.

Then it dies. In that same water it started in.
But I could show you
something free.
No Death. No Possess.

That's love: Freedom.
No being afraid
of exposing the truth;
no hiding of the Longings.

Only Truth & Freedom.
What do you long for? Would she approve? Would he?
Does she tie you up at night
so you cannot move to another's bed?

In Fear that you may never return...
How pitiful, a love so weak;
a love so unworthy of its own
Name.

He's mine. He's mine.
He's only Mine.
How Selfish.
That is no love I know of.

Love is no cage!
Love is no rage!
Love is not a Bible and a slay!
It is not what we have made it today.

He will never know.
My Husband, whom I love most.
I would never restrict,
I would never cry

for something that makes him joyful
could never rouse my anger.
No anger in my love --- Freedom.
No judgements of lusts --- common.

We can live in a lightened lie,
or think of false definitions,
but the Truth is clear;
Love is to be spread...

Throughout one's life,
one cannot be frozen in time;
Love does not Freeze,
Love creates ease.

déjà vu
and suddenly i'm here with you

again
again
again

how does this story end?

moving parts
all connected

paste regimes
resurrected

future projects
souls collected

which path do we endure?
has any of this happened before?
and how can we be sure?

multiple lives passing through air
of another world next to ours

through and through and here i am
again with you and not too far

and then
and then
and then

here we are again
yet its different now
here we are and then

suddenly i'm here with you
déjà vu

The thing I've learned about demons inside
that you can't seem to ward off,

is that you shouldn't waste any more time
trying to fight them
or banish them.

They are quite stubborn and ruthless.
Instead, you should be aware that they exist,
and learn to accept them as a part of you.

Give them a small corner in your mind to live in,
know where they sit, but ignore them.
Let them sit alone in their dark room.

Eventually, they go pretty silent out of bordem.
Other times, they break through...
& when they start to come out, just yell:

"Go back to your room!"

This usually works for me. :)
Other times, I just exercise or write.


----------------------------------------------
DISCLAIMER: this does not mean ignore all your negative thoughts and bottle them up. Self-growth is one of the most powerful and enjoyable things in life; it's also very stressful. But sometimes there are things about ourselves we just have to accept. I have to accept that I have an addictive personality and that I sometimes make too many assumptions with my wild imagination. Whenever I get the urge to overuse, I say no, or I go hoop. Whenever I create scenarios in my head, I say nope, it's not true until I see it.

it's easy to be loved
when you speak a common thought

it's easy to be hated
when you speak an unpopular truth

we shouldn't speak for validation
but for the will to be who we truly are
despite reactions

I'm just a simple complexity.
Want to know something more?
I walk at night and my feet get real sore.

I'm just a half-cat mistress.
Want to see something else?
I do it all alone and I never ask for help.

I'm just a cosmic mess.
Is this not what you asked for?
I sink and I smile but there has to be more.

I'm a girl that gets up and gets dressed.
Don't you live every day?
I carry on and don't have much else to say.

I'm a toy that will never be put down.
Do you want to play?
I stick to my guns and I never stray.

I'm just a post-punk hermette.
Do you ever hide?
A typical ride where no one lies.

I'm a poet with a pencil.
Have you ever written?
In my own corruptless world, I fit in.

I'm a solar sanctuary.
Do you hold it in?
I let it out and then I spin.

I'm just a down-tempo daughter.
Did you want something more?
I go with the flow and I walk through the door.

one day you wake up,
look down the coffee cup
& out into the world
into memories furled

and suddenly you see
this is the life of me
where ever did it go?
i'd really like to know

like the wave of a wand
it's here, then it's gone
we do and we don't
we can and we won't

oh, let's make the best
take care of the rest
surrender to the tides
and just enjoy the ride

The serpent slips
into my veins,
and whispers thoughts
into my brains.
I don't know
which way to go.
I am just a nomad soul;
a naked trip,
a change and a chance.
Lay me with your
premade dance.
I'll put my snake
in a cage
for a while.
Touch my heart
with frozen smiles,
drip-drop, dreams,
and similar things
creep into my eyes
as I walk
another way --
some place that is light;
a fading song
with rearview mirrors,
contacts clearer --
I will keep in line,
the velvet and divine;
you are kissing my spine;
Shine with me.
Dine with me.
No more serpent,
only seas.
But, everything looks perfect
from far away;
and I am so close.
Do you hear me breathing?;
a stomach so heavy.
I am a queen,
and you're feeding me.
You found me in the dungeons,
and now I am free.
A wondrous throne
of transformation,
but none the less --
an innovation.
Will evolution
do us well,
or drown us in pity
and other sad things?