Thunder claps before the lightning strikes.
At least it did for me, and I learned
how a storm can be a beautiful thing.

The sprinkling rain
felt like kisses on my cheek.
Flutters came along after,
and swept me off my feet.

Everything felt better in the rain
that flooded past my ankles.
Even if it resulted in a sprain
it was still worthwhile.

The thunder was so vibrant,
I wanted it to last forever.
I thought it would have been nicer,
but the thunder was the tip of the iceberg.

After the thunder was over
I had no time to waste.
I tried dancing alone in the rain
and jumped from puddle to puddle.

It just wasn't the same.

When the lightning struck I was lost,
determined to make things work,
I stood tall on the perilous ground.
I would stay until things cleared out.

I refused to let this time be like all the rest!
I wanted to pass the test with flying colors
but I lost myself trying to impress others.
I was stuck in a downpour for what felt like forever.

I let the lightning strike me
but I made it out alive.
I'm smiling up at the sky, in the sunlight
that's peaking out at me.

A storm is a beautiful thing.

one time mary lambert told me that i am a ******* tree stump so i went outside to absorb the earth

always take time out of every day to go out without shoes on
feel the grass beneath your feet and between your toes
go out in public without shoes as well
do not be self-conscious
do not blush and curl in your toes when people stare
always remember that feet are weird anyway
always be proud of your weird parts

one time i did dxm and almost puked
laying in the cool dewy grass made me feel better though
i couldn't fathom how beautiful everything was in that moment
(i do not condone the use of drugs)

one time there was a time when i didn't need nicotine or drugs to feel better about myself
i miss that, that time in my life

i'm getting better though
i hope you are too
i hope you get completely naked before a shower and while the water's heating up i hope you look at yourself and touch all of you and i hope you slide your hands down your ribs and hips and think "******* i am one ****, fuckable *******"
because that's exactly what you are
i don't want this to be a cliche "u r beautiful" thing but i think that's what it's turning into

a cool thing about life is that when you cry your cheeks get stained with black but it always goes back to normal
your skin, that is
a cool thing about you is that you are like your skin
a cool thing about your skin is that it's always changing, always shedding, always growing
what i'm trying to say is that nothing is permanent
that you aren't always gonna be stuck in this **** hole
that you'll always find a way to resurface
that you aren't just a crack in the cement, you're the whole ******* city
haha, i love you you stupid head
a lot of people do
be kind to others because we're all just dumb beautiful walking flesh things
smile at every stranger and love like plants do
i don't care what you say, you are someone's sun
so shut up with all that "i'm worthless no one will ever love me" crap
be a conceded *******
love yourself
disregard rude remarks
basically be like kanye
u do u booboo

keep all of this in mind the next time you're afraid to go out in a certain outfit or to change your hair or to wear lots of makeup or no makeup or eat or any ******* nonsense you wanna do. please just do it. dont be a *****

They say "it's for your own good"
"You'll understand when your older"
After 17 years of living you'd think
I would know by now,
It's hard to wrap my head around,
Around a concept not so profound,
A life which my parents want me to live,
Which would mean it would be my life I would have to give,
I respect you,
And stay true,
True to myself and others too,
The values and lessons you've taught,
Which no amount of money or things could be bought,
For it's time to treat me as old as I am,
I am not once that young girl you had planned,
The one in love with feathers and lame tv shows,
The one who always carried her heart in her hand,
The one with dazzling brown crystal shone eyes and wondered around the land,
The one who didn't want anyone to get hurt,
The one now learned from the grime and dirt,
The one who wouldn't stop asking questions,
The one who always said "did I mention.."
The one who's eyes would fill in tears after getting a 'booboo'
but would be all better once you kissed it too,
The one who would be by your side holding your hand
The one who was daddy's little sidekick,
And who was momma's little measuring stick,
The one who didn't grow all too much,
The one who would be scared of movies and your arms she'd clutch,
The one who dreamed to play basketball,
The one who would be supported no matter how many dreams she had,
The ones as absurd as that,
The one who's hand would wrap around one finger,
The one who would laugh at everything you'd say
The one who love to watch the stars and lay,
The one who would love to play,
The one who you'd tuck into bed every night,
The one who would make you turn on a night light,
The one who was daddy's little girl,
And who was mama's pearl,
The girl in those summer dresses and a flower in her hair,
Is standing tall and strong as she shows you she cares,
She's going to make you proud,
For her words may not speak loud,
She's a runaway,
Off to a place unknown,
To explore a world,
And be who she wants to be,
The girl who wants to be free,
Just like how she did when she was young,
Just her and her heart,
Completely alone.

you kissed my skinned knees
to "make it better"
(a kiss for each bruise)
i wonder what it'd feel like to really
be kissed by you.

To the models on runways, ribs protruding, who walk the plank to only stop, pose, and turn away, remember, it's survival of the fittest,

To that cancer patient, who's dream is to someday regain the everyday feeling of their own hair against their warm hand, remember, it's survival of the fittest,

To the back alley junkies, who are stuck in the closing hole of their own personal hell, arms stretched, hands open, screaming for help, remember, it's survival of the fittest,

To the rural women of the world, who know someday they will leave and find dreams in the big city, only to miss their home more than ever, remember, it's survival of the fittest,

To the mom's working two jobs, plus graveyard shifts, just to put food on the table and keep the lights on, remember, it's survival of the fittest,

They put us in different boxes, daring us to break out, daring us to stand up, daring us to do something about it!

But to the boy who's running from his fears just so that he can chase his dreams, remember Booboo, it's survival of the fittest...

Inside, Your cancer's beating heart
My ******* shakes, dirt dust gone
I swipe the sand away. For every ounce of ****
Laughing out meaty red raw steaks and size zero thighs.

     - For everythingsobad. You rattle my dream box with your sweet blue face and your gauges for neither being an idiot or being human. Too cute of you booboo. Captivity claws at you, you big bafoon, intolerant, shuffling your predicates back and forth during your 12am nonsensical *******. So long as it doesn't interfere with your curfew.

Like soggy altered-state popcorn. Your butter catches more flies than knives, the inauthentic gestures spattering over the rhythms and rolls of your fingertips is torture to watch. Kitchen countertop influenza. A tired dictionary of sad words, poor misfortunes, tired eyelids, silty and sandy crusty inside corners of the eyes

                           .rearing privilege

countertop crawlers. inaudible coos used by muses who can't keep their musings from tangling the long distance dial tone soaring through the ears like an Italian operatic melodrama. A horse, three brides, and a funeral. One woman, a sick child, blindness, blinding caused by toxins of the body stuck inside your gelatinous fishlike eyelids. Where's there an eye bib and a lance when you need one? A nifty electric toothbrush shank with extra reach and plaque protection. You're the kitchen sink they threw in, a budget meeting with a data analysis staph infection. A government where nobody wins. All the kids grow up with thin skin and an aorta with no ventricles in it. It's like the cynical prison system that we had to survive in our 8th grade basement dungeon. Thundering, curmudgeons drugging sluggishly, **** teen thugs. Preteen pornstars sluicing cash through their meaty canals, ******* the ******* and ******* the back bare in a messy afternoon of **** *******. Crusty infectious rumors made worse by brothers and moms, eating handfuls of Norco just to keep the family strong.

Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?
one glass of Ovaltine- oops,  I had three
can we fix it? yes we can!
a plethora of beanie babies always at hand

no play-doh or silly putty on the couch
remember the smell of York patties when you opened the pouch?
Teletubbies is on, I hear the nu-nu
my beloved game boy and Gremlins; Gizmo's my booboo

come along and see what's new
it's me, you, and Zooboomafu
remember when Emily wished on a dragon scale?
that's what started the Dragon Tales

I'd drop anything to catch the Rugrats show
Tommy, Dil, Angelica, Chuckie was kinda slow
Cinnamon Toast Crunch in my bowl
Soccer Boppers and those little ugly trolls

Jell-O pudding and Dragon Ball Z
I knew the Fresh Prince song when I was only three
I still watch SpongeBob and now I'm in high school
just because you keep it real doesn't make that you're uncool.

Taking Care of Body Parts

Take care of the body parts.
All the same, remember that
Most of what is going on,
Is going on inside you.

Organs, blood, I don’t-know-what,
Brain, realms therein.
All in-, invisible.
Cause encased:
To be addressed.

Take care of the body parts.
They show.
It’s nice and comfortable to know
                                   they work,
And more than that:
A pointer signal to research
The itch that doesn’t cease,
The lump or bump, the crease
Here, there or anywhere.  

Of course take care,
But find what’s there -
And not.
Fix the flub on neck and throat.
Booboo unattractive,
But beware, take care and ‘suss it out’.

Remember,
No appendage or a member
Is the issue.
It’s what’s going on inside
That describes the living you.

Taking Care Of Body Parts 3.22.2017
Circling Round Yoga; Nature of & in Reality;
Arlene Corwin


Of course!

My Koodo
Made a booboo;
The Sony
Made you angry;
My I-Phone
Pulled a *****;
My LG
Didn't help me;
My Nokia
Sent diarrhea;
My Smart Phone
Made me a smart ***
When it pocket-dialed.
It didn't sent
Emoticon smiles.
And now,
You know
The rest of the story.