I have learned three things in life.
I have lost three things in life.

Faith- a curtain to hide behind, crutches to hold me up.
Faith- a broken record of lies and hypocrisy, when I threw it away I could stand alone.

Hope- an intangible thing of optimistic beauty.
Hope- pessimism is so much safer.

Love- promises, worries, caring, blind, deaf and dumb, not even minding.
Love- remember the memories, throw away the promises, don’t cross those lines.

I now look for these three things in life.

there's a chill in the air, it's settled into my bones.
bare feet in the cold march air step towards a familiar place.
i'm breathing better than i have in months.
"it's been awhile."
well hi to you, too.
"i know. i'm sorry."
i apologize, but i'm mainly awaiting yours.
the moon draws silver shadows over each of us.
i can see the silhouette of our tree over the lake.
"don't be, i am. but..." [your hand is so heavy on my arm.]
"but...what?"
"i'm finishing what i started. i'm...i'm sorry i let it go on this long."
there is a second, right there, where i think this is going elsewhere.
down a different road, with a different soundtrack to lead the way.
but i think, even then, i knew.

"if you scream, it'll be the last thing you do."
you're getting off on this. this is not a game.
this is not a game, and it hurts.
this is not a game, i'm scared, and i close my eyes.
"open your eyes."
no.
"open your **** eyes."
i always liked having my hair played with.
this is nothing like that.
"much better."
hot breath rushing over my ear, my face, my lips.
into my mouth.
oh...there goes dinner.
"you gonna behave now?"
i have no choice. you're choking me.
i can't breathe.
"you looking at it?"
yes. how can i not?
i always thought it was a lovely weapon.
"yeah, i won't hesitate to use it. don't push me."
i'd never dream of it.
besides, i can't move my arms.
"don't push me, *****. don't push me."
you'll find me very compliant if you continue this.
i fear i won't have much of an option.

oh, and to think this is but the beginning.

do something for me, okay?
tell my story at my funeral.
you’re gonna want to say no,
but how do you say no to a dead girl?
you can’t say no to me anyway, can you?

that’s my girl.
you never could.
so, will you tell them?
will you tell everyone
the reason i’m this way?

the reason my hands are useless,
sewn onto my wrists for show?
the reason you see me beside you,
femoral artery on display?
the reason my eyes stay glassy,
hyperfocused on nothing at all?

will you tell them of all
the things you were there for,
the things you saw,
the things you heard?
how you were the only witness,
every step of the way?

i think you will.
tell it all.
[we won’t mention that
when i needed you most,
at the end,
you weren’t there for me either.]

why didn’t you help me?
why didn’t you tell anyone about
all my razorblades, all my pills?

they were practically hand-fed to me,
and where were you?

right beside me, but not where you needed to be.
not helping me, only protecting me.
you protected me to death.

oh, did that hurt?
my apologies.
i guess i’m bitter.

anyway, the last thing i wanted to say?
is thank you.

thanks for finally letting me go.

it's been eight months already
and i could still trace the scars
that danced up your arms as
your hands danced across
my body.

it's been eight months already
and although i hardly knew you
your every kiss breathed life back
into me.

it's been eight months already
and i still don't know what
i was looking for but i found it
in the rise and fall of
our bodies.

it's been eight months already
since you picked up my pieces
and melted them together with
the heat and the passion i saw
in you.

thank you, stranger, for saving me
from myself.

You've got that stupid, capricorn smile.
Those dazed, half-moon eyes.
You remind me of honeysuckle, but...
you smell like lies.

A second glance is all it took to make me bend and break.
I took a step into your waiting arms,
and there was nothing waiting for me.
Just some soot and ashes from your charred, saddened soul.
Just some whispered confessions from when you lost control.

A simple touch is all it took to make me tremble and shake.
You make me sick to my stomach,
and deep in my bones.
It's like the sweetest dessert, laced with aspartame.
It's like I'm craving nothing but the air you breathe.

I always knew you were the one who made me feel so alone.
I just never knew it would be okay to feel alone without you.
I know I could never forget you.
But god, what if I could?

She can find freedom here.
She can be happy here.
She wishes to stay forever here.

Galloping, cantering, chaotically awry.
Flying as one, two beings, seamless lines.
She can find freedom here.

The sun slips gently from the sky.
Her fingers tangled in copper mane.
She wishes to stay forever here.

A whinny, a nicker, a smile as she cries.
She loves what this means to her.
She can find freedom here.

She talks to him, because his eyes don’t lie.
Ears swept forward, and those gentle honey eyes.
She wishes to stay forever here.

Twelve hundred pounds of unbridled energy.
He’s her biggest, closest friend.
She can find freedom here.

They are in the very wrath of love,
for they war with each other and love no one at all.
They are in the very wrath of love,
a war composed of words unspoken, sights unseen.

They are in the very wrath of love,
for they have found an enemy to love in the other.
They are in the very wrath of love,
a love that knows no past and hardly any future.

They are in the very wrath of love,
for they know there is nowhere for them to go.
They are in the very wrath of love,
a place where words mean more than everything.

They are in the very wrath of love,
for they believe secrets and stories are forever.
They are in the very wrath of love,
a mistake of fate and predestination come to life.

They are in the very wrath of love.

I will hold a candle up to you-
to singe your skin.
Brace yourself...
I'm bent with bitterness.

I know, that's not yours. But your song died
with you. The notes bled out, left behind stains
like the red in your bed.
This one is far more fitting for us now.

Where are we now? It's ironic-
'cause even when you're dead?
I still do what you want.
Keep you safe at night, I am.

Kneeling at the foot
of a grave I dug myself,
kneeling beside ashes
that I've burned myself.

Two feet under,
two feet across.
I sprinkle the ashes
of everything we lost.

I'll whisper at first,
wake you up slow.
But I can't keep quiet long,
as I'm sure you know.

So wake up, quiet girl,
from this slumber of sorrow.
The ghost of you should be enough
to keep me safe as I walk home.

No, I don't sleep well,
I wasted all my good nights
staying up with you,
and your threats, promises.

But don't you worry,
I learned from the best.
Bacardi is my lullaby,
so lay your ghost to rest.

I'll be back tomorrow night.

friday, let's play hooky. we'll nap in my car.
just let me be where you are.

saturday, up at 2. we'll sleep in late.
just let me wake where you are.

sunday, up at 6. we'll never sleep.
just let me see a sunrise with you.

monday, up at 8. we'll miss our last bell.
just let me skip with you.

tuesday, up at 10. we'll miss first bell.
just let me sleep in with you.

wednesday, up at 8. we'll behave today.
i just want friday with you.

thursday, up at 9. we'll go for breakfast.
i just want it all with you.

and you had the biggest eyes i'd ever seen,
soft like smoke but **** so green,
that i skipped my **** and passed it on
just to watch your eyes light up.

and they blocked out the stars
and they blocked out the moon
and all i could see was you.
and then, then i knew, that in you,

i had found i knew what love was.
instead of what love wasn't.

you know what i'm thinking about, now.
it was too hot outside to do much of anything,
and my car was on low fuel anyway.
[but i bet you didn't know that.]

and i hadn't slept the night before,
and i was ready to tell you that i...
i simply couldn't do this anymore.
but i knew how you felt about running away.

so i stayed, *******, i stayed.
and we ate ice cream with our fingertips,
and never spoke aloud what we felt as we did it.
has silence ever spoken so loud, bbluv?

and in fragments i remember our movie,
and the whole time i wanted to be closer.
so i sat on the floor, and you in your chair,
and wondered if you even noticed me there.

and then i remember hours and hours of night,
being irresponsible and [occasionally] flirty.
but we had to get up in the morning,
so we tried to stop our endless flow of words.

and i remember calling you after i wrecked my world,
and i paced around the house in my barefeet,
and whispered what happened, what i was afraid of.
i remember you mentioning my drunk texts, too.

and yes, i remember slurpees and wasting time inside.
not because it was hot ouside,
but because i just didn't want to leave.
i didn't get anything else done that day.

and i remember the feel of your bed, your pillow,
so different from the couch i had been sleeping on.
and i remember this look in your eyes, and i...
didn't know what it meant, at the time.

and, you know, i wish you weren't sorry.
for driving me away, i mean. that's okay.
but the way you did it tore me apart.
i'll be way too honest here and say it changed me.

i kept waiting for it to hit me,
day after day after ******* day.
you weren't coming back, not ever.
but still i waited, and still i wait.

and then, at the show, there was nothing.
i don't even know if you noticed me.
and that hurt me more than anything.
but i know i liked that your shirt was different.

and i also know i could understand.
because you said that last time,
and i got it, didn't i? i got it.
so don't tell me i won't. just don't.

tell me you miss our slurpees,
and you miss sweating by your pool,
just to delay my leaving a little bit.
even if it meant our legs got soaked.

and then you have to tell me this:
you don't want anything back, and
you don't want anymore late nights,
and you don't want anymore desperate phone calls.

and then i'll let it alone, and be okay.
and i can say this honestly.
because i know you, and i know...
it simply won't happen that way.

"but we both know this won't happen.
because i don't know goodbyes,
and i don't know severed ties."
i know you don't, so stop pretending you do.

you know, you're wrong about something.
you're excellent at leaving. you just **** at staying away.
but is that because, maybe,
you don't want to stay away from me?

so embrace october,
november, and december.
we'll exchange pumpkin pictures,
and costumes too.

we'll send pictures of thanksgiving,
and complain later we ate too much.
and we'll send anonymous presents,
and detail our new year's eve.

and then, what do you know?
we'll have come full circle.
and maybe, just maybe,
this will be yet another year of snow.

I've never felt anything like this before.
It's like my heart is too heavy to beat.
My lungs crave carbon monoxide.

My eyes dart over every passing car.
Every cigarette is another memory.
My car is filled with music my ears are scared to hear.

I yearn for something to dull the pain.
Anything.

This hurt and loss runs too deep, the river runs too fast.
I cannot cut or bleed it out.
I cannot dream or wish this away.
It is all too real.
It is all too soon.

If I had known being left and forgotten would be this bad,
I never would have opened up.
I never would have worried.
I never would have shared.
I never would have trusted,
wanted,
needed,
or loved.

I knew it was new and different.
I knew it was dangerous.
I never knew how much.

How could you have never said it was over?
I can see no "see you later"s in our future.
I see only goodbyes.

She says to me, she says,
my eyes are bleeding.
She says to me, she says,
my nose is hearing.
She cries to me, she cries,
my ears are speaking,
they’re speaking to me,
and I can’t hear you anymore.

If I could write a million stories
about the way things used to be,
I wouldn’t write a one.
I’ve tried to forget, to forgive,
pretend you never happened.
It simply doesn’t work.
But I’ve done my crying and
I’m no longer angry.
So I’d like to say, finally,
that you made me who I am today.
For better or for worse, I let you in.
And I’m okay with that, and
have a good day, because…
I will.

there are cattails by the water.
she is watching, and she closes her eyes.
the wind caresses her hair, picks it up and lays it back down.
she lies down, and she opens her eyes.

above her, blocking out the sun, blocking
out everything but the scent of sunshine,
the caress of the wind,
and then the gentlest kiss of hesitation.

Apologies, apologies, I won’t say it’s okay
Stop apologizing, I don’t think you’re sorry
Apologies, apologies, wasted breath
Stop apologizing, it falls on deaf ears

One glance in the mirror, smiling
One glance in the mirror, hiding
One glance in the mirror, healing

I’ve moved on, stop apologizing
I’ve moved on, don’t you see?
Abandoning me, forgetting me
You mean so little to me

It’s tragic and it’s sad and, and you
You meant so much to me
But you mean so little to me

There I go again, oh tragedy
Lying again, what a sin
I’m lying to myself, it’s silly
But I’m lying to myself when I say
When I say you mean so little to me

i whispered, "baby, i need you now more than ever."
i whispered, "i may be the driver, but this car is out of control."
i whispered, "there's nothing for us at the end of this road."

and you said, "crash, bang, smoke."

There is no problem in feeling
I've never claimed such a silly thing
But it's known, a proven fact
That too much feeling, that solid entity
Is common man's common enemy

And here I go, here I go again
Crash and burn, fading fast, burning out
He argues, exhale and repent, press repeat
Do you hear the bitterness, she's healing

Healing, healing, hating but healing
Moving on, it's about time, isn't it?
Fizzle out and close your eyes

She dreams in red, she dreams in black
She dreams in hate, she dreams in pain
She dreams and dreams and feels
Oh how she finally feels, and this time...

She doesn't care that there's no one there
Praise be to the angels, the angels, the angels on high
She doesn't care that there's no one there

It was meant to be, supposed to be
Such a crime, violation, humiliation
Illegal intimidation
This is the first she'll write of it
Is this the last you'll hear of it?
I hope so, I hope so

Maybe you won't even hear of this
Maybe she won't even read this
Maybe she won’t even have written this
She will though, she will

She'll scream and scream and I, I will cry with her
We will cry and we will scream
I guess I'll admit it here
But her and I, we're one in the same
Same in the one, you could say
But oh, we're not together

Gotta keep us separated, it's suicide
Selfish personal slaughter, suicide
To put them together

I can't sleep, she can't breathe
She can't sleep, I can't breathe
We wonder, does this make sense?
We wonder, should it make sense?

Don't be frightened, isn’t this how it's supposed to be?
What a poem, what a poet, and hell yes she knows it
Even if you don't, she knows it
She can feel it, this is what she does
Who she is, it's her power

Take a picture, does it last?
Write a poem, the words will last
Draw a flower with words flying
I take something that was never there
And make a blind man see

There’s something else I do
And **** it if it didn’t get me in trouble with you
I thought in forevers, in forevers with you
We talked in forevers, in when-we-get-aways
What we’re doing tomorrow, inconsequential
Until tomorrow became today

And today, tomorrow, yesterday
There was nothing
I’m sorry to bring you in this
This twisting, conniving, forgetting
But it’s necessary, so deal with it
You started it, I ended it
Let me be the one who ended it
I needed the control, need to have taken it
There, at the end, that needs to be mine

I’m going back, back to the beginning
Because it stopped hurting awhile ago
It makes me smile now, smile
Because I know what I did to you, for you
Because I know what I do to you

in the darkness behind your closed eyes,
in the space behind clenched lips.
that's where they're not.

in lonely nights spent pressed into corners,
in bitter tears and trembling hands.
that's where they're not.

come on, now.
every monday? fresh flowers, more tears...
stop crying for me. i’m okay now.
it doesn’t hurt anymore.

i hate when you ask questions.
you don't even listen when i answer.
...do i feel happy now? stop asking me that.

how can i be happy? i miss you guys.
17 years isn’t enough time with a family.
but i don’t hurt, either. i don’t feel anything.
i got what i wanted. so, just.

be happy, move on and be happy.
that’s all i really wanted, to make you guys happy,
and…oh, you’re leaving. okay. well, see you next week.
if….if you wanna come back sooner….
you should.

it gets lonely on the other side.

Dear legal codependents,

I am not my daddy’s girl.
I am not my mom’s best friend.
It’s not my choice, it’s who I am.
Have you ever stopped to think, perhaps,
That maybe one of those people you so harshly judge
Is sitting across from you- your own flesh and blood?
How can you love me anymore?
According to you, I’m just a *****.
Abomination, miscreation, I love you, I disgust you, I know.
You’ve lost a daughter, she’s moving on.

Sincerely- your daughter, your first born, your pride.
Sincerely- bisexual, immoral, criminal me.

i don’t think you know
no, no i don’t think so
i don’t think you know
what you want
a kiss so light, like wings
like wings on skin
featherbeats

hey, j-girl.

it's been awhile.
i haven't seen you around lately.
i can't say i'm complaining, but.
maybe i've missed you a little, so.
you should stop me. i do miss you.

"the drugs begin to peak,
a smile of joy arrives in me."
that would be the song playing now.
i wonder who you'd be today.
where would we be, today?

i swore i'd never let you go,
but you went and walked away.
i don't love you anymore.
i can't love you anymore.
but i miss you, so much.

i went to prom,
i graduated,
i went to a music festival.
i danced all day.
i can't talk today.

you should've been there.
you'd like my friends.
there's one, in particular,
that i wish you could meet.
she's sweet like vinegar.

but i think you'd like her.
she's no stranger to blood,
and she could set you straight.
she's stronger than me, i think.
or maybe we're just different.

i don't know. she makes me think of you.
she's disappears, like you.
but she's always come back, so far.
anyway, i just wanted to say hi.
come back to me, all cleaned up.

you'd like it here.

brian, sweetheart.

i'm sorry nothing ever seems to help.
i'm sorry i'm not a better friend.
i know i've promised to try harder,
but you need to stop trusting me.

you've stopped calling.
you've stopped texting.
and **** if i don't miss you.
i'll hold my tongue, however.

i won't let myself reply to your, "heya."
and i won't let myself answer your phone calls.
because i know there is nothing i can do for you.
because i know talking to me will make it worse.

so take your pills, and talk to sherry.
fix things with amy, and go back to school.
start sleeping again, hang out with nathan more.
get yourself a ******* job, okay?

you know i love you dearly.
and i do this for your own good.
don't stop calling, texting.
i won't ever answer, but.

i like to know you're still alive.
i like to know you're pushing through.
i like to know you're holding on, at least.
can you do that, for me? please?

i pulled over to the side of the road,
and watched your funeral procession pass by.
i don't know who you were or how you died,
but those sleek black cars just didn't stop.

there was a lull in the traffic.
i considered driving again.
but then i could hear something.
music, with 808s and screams.

following the sophisticated,
respectful, hoity-toity procession,
was at least twenty used cars,
each filled with teenage boys.

every single one, drivers included,
had an arm out the window,
clutching onto the same style beanie.
black, with white checkered stitching.

i could hear them yell for you.
i could see them cry for you.
i don't know who you were,
or what you did.

but you made a difference in some lives.
you can count on that.
i hope you were able to see it.
i'm glad i was.

it's probably bad to say this,
but my closest siblings aren't related to me.
i've known my brother for ten years,
and my sister for seven.

i've watched them both grow and change,
and i've grown and changed with them.
there's been fights and tears and anger,
but there's been laughter and secrets, too.

there's been distance and clingyness,
time spent together and time spent apart.
but there's two people who know me,
maybe not the best, but for the longest.

and that's pretty much all i have to say.
we're not the same people we were,
but i have a feeling there will always be us.
relationships like this don't die out.

i'll never give up my brother and sister.
even if they aren't blood related.

I like the way you feel,
when I’m *******,
shutting everyone out,
and you pull me in.

I like the way you say,
“Sarah, what’s wrong?”
or, hell, “talk to me,”
and, “it’ll be better.”

I like the way you say,
“Sarah, I love you!”
and, “want some?”
and even, “slow down!”

I like the way you feel,
when I’m driving,
crying my eyes out, and
you kiss me on the cheek.

I like you, and that.
That really *****,
because I don’t want you.
And I can’t have you.

So stick around,
you gorgeous boy.
I’ll take you as you are,
And never ask for more.

However, I can’t help but think…
your other suitors are no poets,
they're only actors who can play guitar.
Have I won your heart?

it started out as a feeling,
which then grew into a hope.
which then turned into a quiet thought,
which then grew into a quiet word.

i dream of love,
of having loved,
of loving,
of being loved.

i dream about you every night,
although i may not always remember.
you're always, always, on my mind,
although i may not always know it.

i dream of you, and you, and you.
you're the one who left,
and you, you're the one in pieces.
and then you, you're the one in secret.

the one who left, i dream.
i dream about you night and day.
at night you smile and love to live,
during the day you're still bleeding.

the one in pieces, i dream.
i dream of you and your broken smile.
it isn't broken when i dream of you.
you let me fix you and your smile.

the one in secret, i dream.
i dream of you and that's all.
it's you and me and we're happy,
and that boy of yours stuck around too.

i dream in pieces and slices and shreds,
i dream in color and monotone,
i dream in quiet and i dream in chaos,
but i always, always dream.

my dearest [and only] mellieboo,

i can't tell you in words how i feel about you.
and i can't tell you in pictures, either.
i can't tell you anything,
because i never know who i'm talking to.

i fell for you, and i wrote for you.
and i cried for you, too.
sometimes i still think about you.
sometimes i still dream about you.

but mostly, i just miss you.
i miss that smile that made me feel alive again.
the laugh that told me you really weren't happy,
but you were willing to pretend for me.

i don't miss the broken smile,
or the harsh, choppy laughter,
or the see-through stare.
but i do miss you.

it still hurts.
i'm still waiting for you.
good night.

every time i have to list one best friend, you're the one.
i've got others, yes. a couple or three.
but you're the one i always think of.

from back in gym class,
to sneaking out at night to the barn,
[you threw a toad at my face.]
to watching ****** horror movies,
to going to the outer banks,
to staying in grandy one weekend,
[just us and our vices for two and a half days]
to spitting on your barn floor just because,
to relying on luck to keep us from the cops.

from watching you get your tongue pierced,
to you coming with me to get all of mine.
from dealing with that boyfriend of yours,
to dealing with...the lack of mine.
from our future moving out plans,
to our rocky horror plans tonight.

that's us.
you're my number one, through and through.
you knew i didn't want to 'talk about it',
back in august,
you just brought me over and let me stand around.
let me listen to you talk.
that's the best thing anyone did,
that simple distraction was all i needed.

it certainly doesn't help that everyone thinks we're sisters,
our love lives parallel in the oddest ways,
and we just have too much fun together.
i can't put into words what you've done for me.
i mean it, when i tell you, "love youuuuu!"
i mean it, when i say, "best friend."

i do, shelby lynn. i do.

i don't want to write this.
i really, really don't.

momma, daddy.
i love you both very, very much.
but you guys make me cry.
you were supposed to be together forever.
i kind of always took pride in you guys.
completely opposite but totally in love.
except how you weren't, apparently.

i'm too old to blame myself.
too old to beg you to stay together.
i understand everything,
but it still hurts me.
i still hate it.

i blame myself.
please stay together.
i don't understand.
i hate it.

i don't know what else to say.
i don't like this kind of honesty.

good night.

having lived in california until i was seven,
and then moving to virginia beach for one year,
and then living in chesapeake for the rest of my life,
my childhood feels scattered.

i don't remember california all that well.
i remember palm trees lining the streets,
and listening to shania twain with my mom.
i remember the ben & jerry's on a corner,
and i remember the two boxers next door.

i remember two people, too. mostly, anyway.
there's you, jacob. and you, kayla.

jacob, you were my first real friend.
our families were inseparable,
we lived right next door to each other.
we were inseparable too.

i remember digging around in the garden,
that we quickly turned into a mud bog.
i remember you having chicken pox,
and our moms letting us play together.
[funny, i didn't get it until i was nine.]

i remember watching you crash,
all the blood on your dirtbike and face.
i remember visiting your school...first grade.
god, two years seemed like such a huge difference.

i remember throwing you a softball,
and you missed it, and got a ****** nose.
i think that was the first time i felt guilt.

but most of all, i remember that game.
with the dinosaurs, and a big field,
and an even bigger maze inside.
and, of course, your room.
your twin sized bed, and the huge bean bag.
even then we couldn't close the door.

we received your pictures for a long time.
so i feel like i might recognize you on the street.
but not for who you are, really. more of a...
deja vu type of thing, if you will.
i miss you, distantly. but deeply.

and kayla, well.
what i remember most of us...
is the purple jewelry box full of notes.
because you were always grounded.
then i think about making mud pies,
as we sat on the fence between us.
and...unfortunately, that one night.
the raid, and not seeing you again.
hiding the notes, until they stopped.
i think you gave me my first broken heart.
but it's okay, i forgive you. it stopped hurting...
oh, about ten years ago. i think of you, though.
i hope your parents cleaned up,
and i like to think you're happy.

you two represent my innocence.
my childhood. thank you.
i miss it so very much.

honestly, i have no idea who to write about.
the people i don't talk to, well.
there are reasons for it.

and i'm tired of running to people all the time.
run to me, **** it.
stop making me chase you.

i could write about nicole.
about how we were friends and enemies,
and then we were nothing.

i could write about brian.
about how i wish i could help you,
but only you can help you. [i'm sorry.]

i could write about brookie.
about how i miss you so, so much,
but i'm not a good enough friend for you.

i could write about amy,
about how we really had something.
but we're too different, sweetheart. [i'm sorry.]

i could write about anyone, really.
i don't talk to anyone as much as i'd like to.
it's mostly what i don't say and can never say...
that says the most.

there's no delicate, politically correct way to say this.
as soon as i saw you leaning against the wall of the bp,
with your pants halfway down your ***,
your wifebeater thrown over your shoulder,
your big brimmed hat on crooked,
and your white skin pockmarked with needle tracks,
i wasn't scared of you, i was disgusted.

my first thought? burned out ******.
my second? just please don't say anything to me.
my third? ****, he's probably looking at my ****** white girl ***.
my fourth? he just opened the door for me.

i think what i said was, "oh! thank you. excuse me."
and i think what you said was, "ain't no thang."
and i saw on your forearm not needle tracks,
but the very same scars that have lined my hips and thighs.

i looked at the sodas, and you pointed out the cheap ones.
"my girl drank three sodas an hour before she passed.
i guess you could call me a cheapskate, but it's worth it."

i was lost for words, so i just thanked you again.
you got in line, asked for the usual. you got your cigarettes.
i bought my soda, and turned around to you holding the door.
i said, "thank you again." and walked away.

i don't know you. i don't know your life.
i don't ever feel bad about making snap judgements.
but you radically changed my view of you in two short minutes.
if there was any way for you to know, i'd like to say i'm sorry.
and thank you...you've inspired me to change.

i remember the first time we really clicked, you know.
back in seventh grade, a lifetime ago.
part of me says i was sitting on a bed, and you on the floor.
but it might've been the other way around.
i feel like we talked about the sky. but maybe it was the moon?
it doesn't matter, we thought it was deep, something special.
something only the two of us understood.
[i think we were just suffering from exhaustion.
it was awfully early by then.
or awfully late.]

that year was my worst.
yours, too.
seventh grade never treats anyone well.
we stayed friends, carried 'our' notebook to and from class.
took it home on alternating weekends, to stay caught up.
this was back when no one had texting.
we made it through, in one piece.
[our hearts may have been in pieces, however.]

eighth grade rolled around. we shared one class, french 1.
i paid too much attention to you and our lives,
not nearly enough on the class. i scraped by with a b.
[i knew french was only to be admired.
you told me french was mine if i wanted it.]

we were inseperable or distant in high school, due to so many things.
your boyfriend[s]. my catastrophes.
i lived my days defending you,
and my nights crying because of you.
i never felt good enough in your eyes.

eventually, i changed.
you changed too, but you just got older.
i matured. i grew stronger.
i stopped taking **** from people.
yes, even you.

but we're at a point where we can be friends.
or friendly, if you prefer.
but also not acknowledge each other in the hall.

your tattoo, it reads, "stay gold, ponyboy."
and when i saw it, i cried.
i cried for every time we watched that together.
every time we won't see it together.
you were a good friend to me, even with your faults.
you forced me to grow and change or die trying.
and i can't thank you enough.

[your sarakan loves you, loved you.]
i do miss you, but i can't handle having you back.
stay gold, beautiful meadow.
you better stay ******* gold.

apologies from you are unheard of.
so when you apologized, i was shocked.
i immediately forgave you. i felt so relieved.
because, brandon...when we're on point, we're on point.
you're either nothing to me, or one of my favorite people.

i know which one i prefer, but it's so hard.
you're so abrasive, and i don't roll over and take it anymore.
i've changed a lot, and i don't want to be treated badly anymore.
i've told you before i love you, and i mean it. you just hurt me, a lot.

i'm sorry you don't approve of some of my actions.
just please trust me, i know what i'm doing.
i have my reasons. i'm doing the best i can.
i don't like disappointing you, but i have no choice.
this is who i am now, and if you don't want to be friends, well.
i won't understand. i won't like it. i won't say it's okay.
but i'll accept it, like i accepted your apology. carefully, but quickly.

the apology even hurt, because of what you followed it with.
i threw the apology and the forgiveness away, until today.
but i talked to your mom, and she reminded me of who you really are.
and i miss him, so i'm throwing away the **** we've said lately.
i'm wiping our slate clean, in my head.
will you accept it?

my dearest will,

you've always brought out the worst in me.
and i kind of have to love you for that.
you know my deepest secrets,
the dark ones and the embarassing ones.

you know i'm a sucker for anything romantic,
but keep the shakespeare to a minimum.
you know i'd give anything to share your bed,
with you, your cat, and a bottle of ***.

you've taken me back three times now,
and i kind of think you shouldn't have.
you know i love you in my own way,
the way no one else will, hopefully.

you know i'm not in love with you,
but i love the way you bite your lip.
you know i'd keep you up all night,
with just me on my hands and knees.

you know i can only talk this way with you,
the words just fall before i can stop them.
you've forever been my ***** little secret,
and i kind of think you like it that way.

you've told me so many times you love me,
but i've laughed them all away.
you know i'd like to say it back,
'with wisdom and conviction beyond my years'.

but this is all you can have of me,
the pieces nobody else wants.
i'm sorry, let's meet up one day.
we can tour nova scotia.

i'll let you kiss my tears away,
and i'll erase your scars.
"how do i say goodbye to you, christmas?"
"you don't, william. we never said hello."

uncle harley-

i don't even know where you are right now.
you don't even know the person i am right now.
but i miss you, because you lit up my childhood.
i remember your jeep, and getting stuck in the mud.
all those hills are covered in condominiums now.
i remember my sister sitting on your shoulders,
patting your head over and over.

but that was a long time ago.
hell, you might not even be bald now.
you might not even have a motorcycle anymore.
but, you know, you'll always be uncle harley.
you should stop by and visit.
i think you'd be proud of who i've become.

robbie-

i think that's your name, anyway.
i should feel bad about that, maybe.
but i don't, because you don't know mine.
you and your chocolate eyes made me smile.
those long eyelashes of yours made me blush.
that leering mouth of yours made me think.
it made me think i'd have a chance, without him.
it made me think i could have someone that wasn't him.
and i thank you for that.

our walk around the mall and to the pet store?
nothing short of miraculous.
you made me smile and laugh and say things like,
"well, i guess it's a date then, isn't it?"
you made me realize there was more to this world
than him and me and our collective issues.

and when i told you i'd meet you,
i really planned on it. i really did.
because we clicked, and i felt it.
and god, i know you did too.
but things came up, and i...
well, i was misbehaving.

i regret not meeting you.
i've never seen you again.
sometimes i wonder if you're real.
but then i remember fingertips,
exploring the small of my back,
as we hugged goodbye.

i've never hugged a stranger before.
i told you i was single, and i felt i was.
i'm sorry my heart didn't hold on to that.
i'm sorry i never found out what was hiding,
what was hiding behind your chocolate eyes.

i find it strange that i'm writing this letter to you.
but it kind of showcases our friendship.
all it was was an innocent kiss on your hand.
but i kissed you, instead of you kissing me [on the cheek].
so here we go.

it's like every word you say has an extra meaning.
every touch you steal or demand has an extra feeling.
so when you said, "kiss it, make it better," i wondered.
i wondered what exactly i was making better for you.

it could, of course, just be that you hit your hand on my pool steps.
but that was all you, anyway. i thought you were tackling me.
not hugging me.

but then again, it could, of course, be you were looking for a reaction.
if that's the case, i wish i knew why. i think i'm pretty clear on what i want.
you're the one complicating things, you know.
keep your mischievous eyes to yourself.
keep your troublesome lips closed.

god forbid we do anything we'd be ashamed of.

well, i'll be honest.
i don't remember the last person i made a pinky promise to.
and that makes me feel so, so lonely.

lonely like the smallest puppy must feel when he can't play with his brothers and sisters.
lonely like the first star in the sky at night.
lonely like my hand without yours in it.

i want someone to pinky promise.
i want someone to live for.
i want someone to wake up thinking of me.

god, it's so hard to be honest with myself.
i've nothing else to say.

you taught me ABC order.
you taught me to rollerblade.
you taught me about limp bizkit.
you taught me the words to "danger zone".

you gave me my first taste of anger,
gave me my first feelings of terror.
how anyone could feel so much, all at once,
and let it out at something so mundane,
[your punching bag]
and still scare me so much is beyond me.

you gave me my first taste of alcohol.
miller lite, and i hated it.
you made me drink more, because well,
"it's an acquired taste, you know, like wine."
in later years you'd say the same of ***.

i still don't know how i let it happen, really.
one minute we were friends,
and no one really knew how close.
the next minute your hand was in my pants,
and that's the last place i wanted it.

in the next minute we're on the phone,
you somehow got my number.
you're apologizing, and crying.
i've never heard you cry before,
"what the hell is going on, a?"

give you a second chance? to do what?
to apologize? you never had a first chance.
meet you where? when? tonight?
"you know i can't do that."
then again, if you're leaving in the morning.
just this once, for you. i need the closure.

i still feel like i asked for it,
i don't know if that will ever change.
in the middle of the night, still,
i wake up, convinced i'm bleeding.

soaking through my sheets just like that night.
it stains my skin in a way that will never wash off.
the glint on your knife from the moon that night?
leaves a scar that will never fade away.
unlike the one on my thigh. it's gone now.

you took so much from me.
you took my innocence,
and i'm not just talking virginity.
every single person i look in the eye,
i can see potential.
the potential for destruction.

we are none of us born good or evil.
some of us are just good, with evil tendencies.
you, though. you're something else.
evil, with sadistic tendencies.
you're a ******* monster.

but i have nothing to say to you anymore.
i wish you nothing but the worst.
[i hope your **** hurts where i bit it.]
and i hope you hear my screams when you sleep,
every
single
night.

Hey, Cass.

I’m doing this letter challenge. A letter a day for thirty days.
That’s a third of our whirlwind summer.
Today’s topic is, “someone you miss the most”.
And at first, I didn’t think of anyone.
You weren’t even in the list of possible people.
But something triggered something, and you sashayed your way into my head.
And you’ve been stuck there for awhile.
So, this will be about you. Because now that I’m thinking of you, I miss you.
I miss you so much there’s a hole in my chest where my heart belongs.
I spent all of sixth grade on the other side of Professor’s classroom.
I watched you and the boys simultaneously befriend and annoy everyone.
Except me. I don’t know how, but I couldn’t feel anything either way.
Except when we started writing in English class. I don’t know.
I don’t remember much of what you wrote, except it was dark and scary and…
I loved it.
You had the best way of taking the nastiest words and making them beautiful.
I don’t remember the details, though. Isn’t that strange?
You did always tell me to look at the big picture. I’m still working on that.
And, anyway, nothing much happened until the birthday party.
The surprise one, where Amy picked up all the guests one by one from their houses for breakfast.
Sort of a reverse surprise party, and I told you, “this is the only surprise party I’ve ever had.”
And you tactfully reminded me it wasn’t for me, and I told you, “it’s close enough.”
We went to breakfast, and talked about how creepy the indoor balcony was, you know which one.
The one with the chain hanging over the edge. We shared a glance, and I knew we had to talk.
So we did. The entire day, we talked and talked and talked. Antisocial as they come, the both of us.
You almost convinced your mom to let you stay the night, but no. You left for Tennessee the next day.
That night, I pieced together and guessed the letters of your screen name.
[It had melted mostly off my arm by then.]
I found you, right as you found me. We both said, “found you,” at the same time.
We always connected in the most creepy ways.
And anyway,  we talked all that night. And the next. And the next.
I skipped sleepovers and birthdays and we talked our way through the summer.
I learned so much about you, from you. Too much.
And then you started cutting. And cutting. And cutting.
And then you went away for two weeks. I missed you so much it hurt to breathe.
You came back, and actually called me. I hadn’t heard your voice in two months.
Except for in my head, anyway. You told me how the asylum was.
“It’s the most beautiful place in the world, Sarah. I’ve never been so happy.”
We both agreed it was probably the drugs, and we laughed in our somber way.
You started writing more, and talking less.
You started cutting more, and smiling.
I just stopped altogether. School had started again.
I was talking to your ex-boyfriend’s best friend, and it seemed like he took your place.
Then one night, you weren’t there at all. Two weeks, I waited.
I called your house. Your number was disconnected.
I spent hours and hours and hours rereading our conversations.
I was scared of you, the absence of you.
But I was scared of us, too. You ****** me in, like quicksand.
But I never even knew. I’ve never seen you again.
Never spoken to you again.
I can’t explain our relationship to anyone.
The only one who understood what I couldn’t explain was your ex.
And well, I don’t like him anyway. So I pushed you away.
Very successfully, I hadn’t thought of you in years.
Until this letter, until these two girls who remind me of you.
They **** me in like quicksand, too. One of them’s gone already.
One of them is going to leave. And I’m so, so scared of all of you.
But god, Cassie, our entire summer was based on our fears.
So I guess you’d be proud.
Wherever you are, darkest angel, I do miss you.
I think, maybe I might have loved you. But we’ll never know.
Dance with your demons, and make sure you lead.
Don’t be afraid to step on their toes.

-Your favorite demon.

i don't know who i am,
and i doubt i ever will.
i don't even know who i'm not,
because i change so often.

but i know who i wish i was.
christ, doesn't everybody?
we all do it, at least once:
"god, look at her. she's...
she's got everything. but,
i'd change a little bit.
and i would never do that,
or say something like that."

i wish i had more of a lot.
and i wish i had less of a lot, too.
i wish i smiled more, and laughed less.
i wish my window didn't scare me,
and i wish i wasn't scared of lakes.
[i'm not afraid of swimming,
or water, or even drowning.
i'm afraid of what's inside my head.]

i wish i had more self control,
but i wish i could let go and relax.
i wish i lived by my favorite quote,
"let it be."
and i wish i could take the middle ground,
and i wish i could love halfway.
but i'm an all or nothing type of girl.

i wish i was slower to trust and love,
and quicker to forgive and forget.
i wish i could stick to my promises,
and i wish i could live without regrets.

i'm not willing to change myself,
and i really wish i was.
it's too hard just hanging on to who i am;
i can't imagine ******* around with it.

i wish i could turn the page on some stories,
and start over again.
but i'll keep living and breathing,
through words and pictures, until the bitter end.

i wish i was the person everyone needs me to be.
i wish i was the person who didn't care about it.
but i'm always going to be the last one standing,
wishing on a shooting star, or a meteor, or a plane.

i wish i could tell the difference.

i swore to myself i'd never write to you.
because that would make all of it too real.
and if this ever gets to you, well.
i guess i can just hope for the best,
because if i were to lose you before our time was up,
i simply wouldn't be okay.

i've thought about you every day since i met you.
the attitude behind the thoughts changes.
sometimes by the hour, sometimes by the day.
but one thing always stays the same:
i love you. with all of me.
i shouldn't, but i do. and it runs so deep.
i can't cut it out, i can't bleed it out.
i can't smoke it out, i can't drink it out.
but god, i wish i could.
and god knows i've tried.

because i spend every night wondering if you'll be alive in the morning.
and i spend every day wondering if you're disappearing again.
and i spend every moment we're together missing you.
you might stand next to me, or lay with me, or tickle me,
and i miss you so much it almost kills me with every breath.
i've told you all of this, and you said something along the lines of,
"i know. you know **** well i care about you. i've always come back."
and, of course, you're right. about all of it. you're always right.

"sarah, you tell me everything. always."
of course, you're right. since the beginning, i've told you everything.
every thought i have, every crazy theory, every ridiculous dream.
you know it all. and you know you know it all, and that's even worse.
you know me better than i know myself, and you keep me in line.
i like to say that's why i keep you around, but it's more than that.
you keep me as sane as i'm going to be, and all i want is to please you.

i ask you too many questions, most of them stupid, but i can't help it.
i just want to hear your voice, all the time, as much as possible.
because i know one day i'll never, ever hear it again. and that, well.
that's not something i like to think about.

i waste too much gas and create ******* reasons and eat too much,
just to keep you in the passenger seat of my car. your seat.
because i know one day you won't sit in it again.
and it's your seat, now. it doesn't look right with someone else in it.
i play your music too loud and let you kick my radio when it skips,
because i can't say no to you, and you know it.

i can't lie to you, either. not successfully.
i can ******* my way around my reasons for texting you,
but you've got me figured out. you know when i'm avoiding.
you let me do it anyway.

i've told you before, but i'll say it here too.
i love listening to you sing. you don't it that often, but.
i like to pretend that maybe, you only sing with me.
i also like to pretend that maybe, i know you a little.
i don't hold a candle to dylan, of course. i know that much.
but...i like to pretend i'm special, to you.

you used to call me babe, and baby, and tell me good night.
"good night, love you, sleep well," i'd say. and you'd say,
"good night, i love you too. get some sleep tonight."
and well, i guess if i said it to you know you'd say it back.
and you'd mean it, because i now you'd always tell the truth.
but i can't bring myself to, because you're so empty now.

you've always been the apathetic one of the bunch,
but it's different now, and everyone's noticed it.
and i hate it, because i can't let you go. they have, but i can't.
so i see the difference in your eyes, and live for when they light up again.
but a part of me dies every second they aren't.
it's so infrequent, these days. i wish i was the one who could wake you up.

the funniest part about all of this is i don’t want you.
i don’t dare want you as mine.
everyone asks me if we’re dating. if you’re my boyfriend.
i end up telling them three, four times, “no. i don’t want him.”
and they end up believing me, but they still see it.
and i want to break everyone into little pieces for that.
because they can see it, i can feel it, and i want nothing to do with it.
i’d give you anything you’d ever ask me for.
and that scares me, so much, but i haven’t left you yet.
because you’re leaving me, anyway.
manhattan, california, europe.
death.

it doesn’t matter how, when, or why. i love you now, i loved you then, i will always love you.
i’ll never know if i’m in love with you, because life will never give us a chance.
life is kind of a really smart *******, but i hate it all the same.
it gave you to me and constantly threatens to take you away on a cloud of ecstasy.
or shrooms, or acid, or ***, or alcohol.

and what i just realized, this very second, is that whenever we hug and i say goodbye?
you say, “see you later.”
please tell me that’s a promise.

please.

i'm so tired of being a joke.
and i'm so tired of.
everything.

stop hurting me.
i do my best, always.
it's tearing me apart.

you can't see me crying.
and i'm not going to tell.
but i can't seem to stop.

i love you, too much.
*******, i don't want to care.
nothing makes sense.

especially when you.
when you can't.
can't remember anything.