9/12/2014

consolation is a prize set upon golden sands that my feet are no longer invited to tread upon

solace is a faraway whisper that is only loud enough to be heard in my dreams,
and when i am woke,
all hope proceeds to dwindle,
and solace has gone forth to a new home,
and i am left to a melancholic hum which pierces my ears like the tip of a steak knife,
and i am left to sit
and dream,
but how doth the dreamer sing when all that is laid upon him is sorrow,
and how doth the dreamer pray when the exodus tears him apart from his mates,
and tell me how doth the dreamer love when all his life he hath known pain?

how does the dreamer live,
when he doth not see the light of the stars any longer,
when he doth not feel the warmth of the sun upon his nape,
when he doth not feel the wind outside his window?

the stars have gone dim,
the sun hath frozen outside of his dreams,
and the wind doth try to blow him away

away,
far away,
is that what the dreamer longs for?

what does the dreamer long for when life no longer fits his fancy?

i can say,
i* do not long for death,
but maybe i do,
for i am like this dreamer

i once longed for the stars to envelop me in their light,
and the sun to shield me with it's warmth,
and the wind to wrap it's breeze around me

but now i do not know what i long for

the dreamer hath decayed,
the life has begun to rot,
the moon has begun to fall out of the sky,
and i am afraid of what peril i,
the dreamer,
may face

9/11/2014

when i look up at the sky at night,
i feel this deep longing.
like that's where i'm supposed to be.
i believe i'm meant to be a star,
or a planet,
or a moon,
or a sun.
i'm not meant to be here,
i'm celestial,
i am not meant to be trapped in this skin,
i am meant to roam the universe,
i am meant to shine,
and fly

but i know that is something i will never achieve.
not in life.
perhaps in death,
if one could wish.
though for now i am trapped.
as always.
as i've always felt.
trapped.

i look at my body and i do not feel it is me.
i do not see this as an extension of myself,
it simply is,
apart from i

i look at my friends,
and i know they will never understand.
they do not know that i feel inferior,
they do not know that i feel useless in this meat suit i'm residing in.
they do not know that their dear friend longs for death,
not because i want to die,
but simply because i want to *live,
as i believe i was meant to

© 2014 Scarlet Van Allen

9/2/2014
dedicated to a certain human that lingers in the back of my head*

i think people are brought into our life
for reasons beyond our understanding

i think every person we meet somehow helps us to grow,
somehow makes us stronger,
somehow helps us realize something new about ourselves or the universe

and you were that person to me

you helped me through hell without even holding my hand
all you did was speak to me
and god it felt like every word
dug a flower's stem into my heart
every syllable came across as a melody
and without even meaning to,
you brought me out of my own damnation

i believe that we will always
have some sort of strong,
unspoken,
bond because of that

you told me i made you love life
and don't you know that's the best you could do for anyone?
and don't you know that you are the reason i may still stand utop my own two feet today?

i did not have to search for you,
i did not long for you,
you were simply tossed into my life by an unnatural absurd vibration,
a vibration that i have now begun to see,
and hear

darling,
without even meaning to,
you saved me from the abyss

i was walking on coals and you stopped to help me off,
you didn't mean to,
you were simply being kind

and i live for that kindness,
i live for this vibration,
and i live for you

because for every person that kicks me back down,
i will still,
always,
think of you

© Scarlet Van Allen 2014

07/01/2014*

here I am,
laying on the ground
with man's best friend
at my side

here I am,
dreaming of far away
planets,
unlike our own

here I am,
feeding off the stars
and the passing satellites
and the wind
and the bats overhead

here I am,
consumed in my own
state of melancholy
that strips away
my memories
and my soul

here I am,
watching the shooting stars
overhead,
and refusing to make
wishes,
for I know they won't
come true

here I am,
silently hoping
that one of those
stars
comes shooting down
towards me

here I am,
with no dreams to
behold,
with no aspirations,
no desires,
but to go back
to an unknown home

here I am,
quietly whispering to
the stars,
"take me
take me
dear, I am ready
to come home"

here I am,
knowing that if
the sun never came up
that next morning,
I would still be okay

here I am,
knowing that if
God himself came down
and put the world
up in flames,
I'd be okay

here I am,
knowing that if
the oceans of
the world
consumed me whole,
I would still be
just fine

here I am,
hoping that the
heavens rain down,
so as I
don't have to face
the world
one more day

here I am,
hoping to
evaporate into the sky,
or sink into the ground,
or be carried away in
the wind

here I am,
dreaming of death,
yet knowing that
when it comes,
I will be okay

© 2014 Scarlet Van Allen

12/10/2013

every day
i stare in
the mirror
at the face
before me

and i realize
just how ****
broken i really
am

i move my
fingers
through where
the ghost
of my hair
still stands

it breaks me,
every time
i do it,
it breaks me

i can feel
tears
start to form
under my eyes

this is not me,
i think,
this is not me

but it is

and i cannot
hide from it
any longer

i move my
fingers
to my wrist,
which was
once smooth

now
it's paved
by rail road
tracks

little red
pale
scars
all across

it's a
memory
of the months,
of the *years
spent fighting

fighting for
myself

fighting against
myself

i can not
escape it
any longer

my hair is
no more

my scars
are forever

both metaphorically
and literally

i will always
live with this

always

i must learn
to be okay
with it

to know i
have,
or once might,
move on
from this

for this is
not me

it's an
extension
of me
that i want
so badly
to rid

i cannot
deny it

but slowly,
and surely,
i am
learning to
hide it

© 2013 Scarlet Van Allen

11/26/2013

I'm beginning
to realize
how alone
I really am

and how
alone,
is what
I've always
been

and honestly,
I think I'm
partly okay
with that

my best mates
have always
been
these walls,
this computer,
and the pages
in every book
I've ever laid
my eyes upon

I've always
found myself
to be quite
lonely

little did
I realize
that I had
everything
I needed

I've found
comfort,
in knowing
that these
pages can
not up and
leave me

they cannot
decide to hate
me

or ban me
from their
pithy lives

they cannot
judge me
or deem me
unsatisfactory

I have found
comfort,
in knowing
that these
walls
can not walk,
and can not think,
and can not judge,
and most
of all,
I have found
comfort
in knowing that
these walls
can not
talk*

I've learned,
over the years,
to live
alone,
inside my
own mind,
not to worry
about others

I've learned
to keep to
myself

I've found
things to
keep my
occupied

and most
important
of all,
I've learned
you can not
let your
emotions
and feelings
depend on
those around
you

because they
will fail you

every time,
they will
fail you

you must learn
to live
with yourself,
you must learn
that your mind
is an oasis,
an escape,
a paradise,
that does not
need to
depend on
anyone else,
but yourself
to be happy

© 2013 Scarlet Van Allen

11/25/2013*

I am scared
of losing you

but I know
that even
if I do,

I will always
have parts
of you within
me

as you
will always
have parts
of me within
you

and I find
comfort
in that

I know
I will never
lose you,
as you
will never
lose me

© 2013 Scarlet Van Allen

11/25/2013

there is something
grand that happens
when you read
poetry

when you read
someone's poetry,
you're taking
a look
inside their head,
and inside their heart

so know,
when you read
my poetry,
you are taking
a peek
inside my brain,
and inside my chest,
and inside my *soul

© 2013 Scarlet Van Allen

11/24/2013*

I am not
a girl

and I am not
a boy

I am a
storm,
a hurricane,
a tornado,
an earthquake

and
under my skin,
there is a
universe

with millions of
stars,
and planets,
and emotions,
and chemicals,
and scars

I am not
a girl

and I am not
a boy

there is a
windstorm
in my heart,
and in my head,
and in my bones,
and in my blood

and there are
galaxies
throughout my cells,
and throughout my skin

I am not
a girl

and I am not
a boy

I am far more
than that

© 2013 Scarlet Van Allen

11/24/2013

I envy the
teacups,
that get to
touch your lips

I envy the
blankets,
that get to
touch your skin,
and keep you
warm

I envy your
bedroom walls,
which have seen you
smile,
and laugh,
and cry,
and sweat

I envy the
computer screen,
that gets to
stare at you
for hours
on end

I envy your
hair brush,
which is allowed
to run through
your hair,
like I wish
my fingers could

I envy
the stars,
which you look up to,
and talk to
when things get bad

I envy the
water,
that gets to
run along your spine,
and collarbones,
when you take
a shower

I envy the
stuffed animal,
that you sleep
next to
every night,
for I wish
it was me
instead

and I envy
everyone
that you talk
to,
for I wish
I could talk to you
instead

I envy
everyone,
and everything,
that gets to
touch you,
and look at you,
and listen to you,
for I can not
be there to
touch,
or look,
or listen

I am only
hundreds of miles
away

but I hope,
I wish,
I *pray,
that someday
I will replace
that teacup,
or those blankets,
or your bedroom walls,
or your computer screen,
or your hair brush,
or the stars,
or the water in the shower,
or your stuffed animal,
or everyone,
that gets to
touch you,
look at you,
and listen to you,
if only just
for a minute

© 2013 Chloe Perkins

11/24/2013

someone asked me
if I've ever been
in love

immediately,
I thought of you

I know that sounds
weird,
being since we
haven't even truly
met

maybe I'm not
in love* with you
yet,
but I am
in love with the
idea of being
in love with you

I'm in love
with the idea
of every day
waking up next
to your smiling face

or maybe I'm
in love with
the idea of
kissing your nose,
or holing your
hand,
or making you smile,
every day,
for the rest of days

maybe I'm just
in love with
the idea of
calling you mine,
and saying your
name,
and leaving you
notes around the house

maybe I'm just
in love with
the idea of
tracing my fingers
down your spine,
and calling you
darling,
or dear,
or love,
or baby

maybe I'm just
in love with
the idea of
my fingers tangled
in your hair,
or my legs
intertwined with yours,
or my lips upon
your cheek

maybe I'm
in love with
the idea of
hearing you say
my name,
and feeling your
hand resting on
my shoulder,
and listening
to you talk,
for hours on end,
about yourself,
or your life,
or your dreams,
or your family,
anything,
as long as I
get to hear
your voice

maybe I'm
in love with
the idea of
going to sleep
in your arms,
and holding you
when you're sad,
and wiping your
tears away when
you cry

maybe I'm
in love with
the idea of
hearing you laugh,
or even hearing
your footsteps
down the hall

maybe I'm not
in love with you,
but I am
in love with the
idea of being
in love with you

© 2013 Scarlet Van Allen

11/23/2013

my night consisted
of silent thoughts
of you

the concert was bright,
full of sad faces,
and drunk patrons.

but for some reason,
I couldn't tear
my mind away
from you.

I saw you
on the stage

I saw you
next to me

I saw you
as the girl
in the front row,
waving her hands,
and singing along

I saw you
in everything
around me

in the walls,
in the lights,
in the beer
under my shoes,
in the smoke
throughout the auditorium,
in the smells
of *** from
a few rows ahead,
in my head,
in myself

I can not help
but think of you
every time I breathe

every time I
even open my eyes

every moment
of every evening,
spent alone,
wishing I had someone

no matter if I
ever get to have
you,
or if I spend
my whole life
wanting* you,
I will always
have a piece of you,
inside my head

I will always
think of you
when the leaves
start to fall off
the tress

and when I’m standing
on the beach,
and the water
rushes towards my toes

and when I’m
laying in bed
every night

it will always
be you

© 2013 Scarlet Van Allen

11/22/2013

have you ever
been so curious
that it kills you inside?

have you ever
been so determined
to find the truth
that you forgot
about everything else?

have you ever
been so unsatisfied
with the unknown
that every second
of every day
you're thinking
of different theories,
different stories,
different beliefs,
that you can
hardly keep your head
******* on straight?

I don't know
how I have lived
for so many years
being so content
with not knowing
everything and
anything
about my own existence

how was I
not ever concerned
with this,
how was I
fine with knowing nothing?

because now,
now,
I am certainly
not fine

I am not
okay

I am not
well

I am beginning
to go mad
from the
unknown

I *need
to know

anything,
and everything
about myself,
about us all,
about our existence,
about the earth,
about space,
about the universe,
about life

I will never
be satisfied
without it

© 2013 Scarlet Van Allen

11/22/2013

my eyes burn,
from the glow of the
computer screen,
against the stale darkness
of this room.

I've been reading
Bukowski,
The Last Night
of The Earth
Poems (1992)

he has made me realize
I have a
writer's soul,
a writer's heart,
a writer's mind.

I do not see,
yet I see all.

I observe,
I write,
I think,
I *am.

I realize,
now,
far too late,
that I am not
lonely.

I have no
need
to be.

for you see,
the pages,
they speak to me,
and I speak back.

and with that,
I have all
I need.

© 2013 Scarlet Van Allen