My ears pick up the sounds coming close
chugga chugga choo choo
patiently wait while excitement infects my bones
my cold squinting eyes scan the track
train is inching into sight
shaky cold legs, counting seconds till arrival
one two three four five six seconds
the train yields with screaming loudness
ears yell to hands
mittens push over ears with intent to rescue
see the conductor, let the wind push  me to the entrance
put headphones in and get lost in a world of my own
blast off, the train soars and my mind wanders
with a wandering mind I am leaning against a frosted window
                                    suddenly
my head bumps off the window and the train comes yielding
one two three four five six seconds
I feel panic shoot through my veins
we had not even reached a second stop
heads turn and questions are passed around like candy on halloween
careless and free
I see the hat of a conductor bobbling,coming closer
"a man has been killed on the tracks"
"we can no longer run this train"
one woman, " well what the hell am I supposed to do now?"
one man, " where do I go now? I have places to be."
other faces" angry and filled with eyes of annoyance"
One two three four five six seconds
people begin to put foot after foot, stomp off a train
left lost in my mind but in whole different world once again
one two three four five six seconds
Conductor: Miss are you ok?
silently I get off the train
one two three four five six seconds
life is gone
a man has perished
all aboard the train of realization
all aboard the train of ignorance
once two three four five six seconds
what has happened to the regard for human life?

Happiness,always reaching but barely touching
Like a  young child on tip-toes reaching to a cabinet but just touching the tip of the  mug
counting seconds till the collide of heels back to ground, defeat
Like trial and error, happiness was lurking and begging for my grasp
Searching for a grasp
I was told to find my center
But like watching a  constant swinging pendulum I could not stop
never able to stop, discover,and explore  the center
I was told happiness is not easy, not for your kind
Kind compassionate loving, why was being happy so unfulfilling
Unfulfilling, Like holding sand in your hands but it slides through those palms
Palms left empty
Emptiness, like watching  an hour glass of sand
sand finds the bottom and you see, feel, and understand half-full
Full,full, full
I found you and I found  full
fulfillment of a new kind: kind compassionate loving
Hapiness not reaching or  barely touching but grasping
Like a young child on tip-toes reaching in a cabinet for a mug and that grasp and pull
the feeling when heels kiss the wood floor; sign of relief
Like holding piles of sand and each grain is sliding through  palms
Palms no longer left  open and empty
My palms meets yours when the sand feels lost and gone  
like an hour glass perfectly timed
And placed horizontal
We create balance
Like watching a pendulum  stopped from the sway
Finding the center
Still, calm, peaceful

Living among the world as though
Comfortable closure exists
Intertwined hands and soft kisses drift from present to past
Tried to blend lives in unison
Like acrylic paints forming new shades
Shades of memories exist but pushed into a storage  room
I go among my days now like how they were before
Before I found maybe the light of love
The light of something that shined so bright, I blinded my eyes and said goodbye
Being afraid of hapiness for fear of losing it
The days drift on so casually and your name is fading off my lips
Keep myself running miles in the opposite direction of where  I'll find you
Today I watched a feather fall so delicately from my pants
I knew it was from your bed sheets
the storage place in my mind unwinds

look for you
side                          to                           side
knowing you were never in clear  view of my perspective.
each step closer you are a step back and then you disappear
like watching a tablet dissolve in water
the tablets gone but the color of water is oh so changed
my color will always be slightly changed
you let me see through a key hole what loving you is like
but then ripped it away faster than a child's attempt to play with flames
your purpose to me stands undefined.
only  a reminder, even  with trails of my past heartaches i still
would like to love deeply like a fool
you will cboose to love less,
continue to pull the door step mats from beneath future lovers
and leave cold bare feet on the wood
my bare feet chose to walk away, but my pathetic heart is imprinted
spending days
writing an album worth of songs for you ears to never here
playing piano with one fragile hand and
grasping a mason jar overflowing with whiskey with the other.

the white noise is calming  due to the interruption of sober silence
depriving senses, seeming like aphasia, looking through peripheral to see
all but what was was straight in the clear, sight insufficiently corrupted
painful holdings and a hand punched into the car door beside me
screaming about the difficulties, a voice that cracked like stained glass
suddenly given a voice, to only express furthermore misapprehension
a voice that spoke words
that  could  be seen forming in the air above  
the words that wrapped around my body and clung like static
pulled me like a rope twisted leash, forming circulating rusted lesions
across a  protruding collarbone
stare down deep into the roots of a tender willow  tree
look down, and avoid the expression on that face
and the truck that was unnecessarily  punished
now pretend you have aphasia, pretend that lesions don't **** slowly
and pray your face doesn't end up like that car door

Your delicacy lingers like the porcupined white rose
Grab to quick and the beauty will make elegant fingers leak rouge
The pain shoots like a gun, fast and greedy
But such a fragile reminder of what it
means to be a human
Want  to grab the beauty and sniff the petals and embrace the texture of nature
Can't forget that scent and puzzled pieced skin that layed to create what I consider a beautiful creature
pull you closer and closer the stronger the grip the more the stem of a rose will stab
A tighter  desire the deeper the cut
Fulfilling a numbness I begged to touch the beauty and intertwine you into my whirlpool of disaster
Thought that seeking beauty could cure a disease
Once again , I reached and grabbed
The white rose
It pricked pricked pricked
Not alive , not aware, I felt unpleasant pain inside the numbness
Earth quaking change pulled  me inside your disaster
When you knew I was seeking a cure to my own
Manipulating phrases and songs I didn't want to hear anymore
I see the white rose, I reach and ever so gently I reach for the stem
Put the white rose to my nose and sniff pure freedom
Glide petals against my cheek   and realize  true beauty
Without the ***** , without your unforgiving love

intertwine and window into my insight on opportunity
behold green leaves falling from branches turn to (paper)
paved buildings producing educational programming
twisting like counter clockwise drills into a ignorant skull
leading to this source of never ending deposits
reproducing then only for what can be afforded
stealing that nature from right inside my female bones
attend your designated duty or (job)- debt
will crawl under your wine colored nails and manifest until:
the prayer "my soul to take" will apply
suppress my speech, i beg; my
swaying freedom of speech is turning into a depression of alcoholic slurs
never mend your thoughts too tight, or this macrocosm seems like thoughts
are trapped in an endless revolving door
intertwine and window into my insight on opportunity
because this is what they call:
the American Dream

*** was just ***. in an evicted building. Interesting night i could infer.
First time you made me feel something. It wasn't  the waves of satisfaction but the thrill of the evicted building.How does one get to this place in their life? Well, its called the city of lynn. Just let the path of life lead you to the stop sign near seven eleven and take a right. Could infer that this was grimy, yes. Happy my vulnerable bare state wasn't the body on the wooden floor tiles. Thanks for being so considerate, you always did know how to be a gentlemen. I heard you see someone new know. I wonder if you hold the door for her? i wonder if you take her out to lunch? i wonder if you do those sappy couple things, the things i said i hated.So instead of bringing me to lunch, holding my hand , or doing anything civilized with me, we had *** in an evicted building. Thanks for making me feel wanted,
Love the women who hopes,
you got splinters in your *** from the wooden floor

you make me unstable like-
a desk that needs a folded index car under one of the legs for balance

I was driving home from the mall today. It was a pitch-black night and the cold November air caused my breath to turn to smoke. I felt so free, because it was one of the first times I was driving my newly bought car. As I was driving, I was mouthing lyrics to my favorite song and I felt so genuinely happy. All of a sudden, I saw two bodies lying in the middle of the road. They were about a foot apart.  One body behind the first one. I figured this was a joke, and that somebody was testing how I was going to react. I even thought just for a moment maybe I was going to be on television. I quickly pulled to the right, naïve and unable to think clearly. I looked to the left and saw a man outside his car. The car’s windshield was completely smashed and the front bumper had indentations all over it.  I quickly looked back at the road and saw blood oozing everywhere from the  first body.  It was smeared all over the road and the second body was not moving at all. I looked in front and there were only two other cars pulled over to the right. I looked back at the strange man with glasses who was talking rapidly to what I assumed, 911 on the phone. Seeing the car, the blood, the unknown, I feel too close. I was two feet away from from the bodies, maybe dead, with a road lying under red liquid. As people slowly lined up behind my car to the side of this road, some got out to help. I sat in shock, unable to move, or drive, and was trapped in by two cars. I sat there trying not too stare at the girl who appeared to be trying to move and the gender unable to, but more likely a boy, not moving. This body had about two people checking its pulse. As six people gathered around the girl, holding her down so she would not move, as she squealed under her breath. Frozen, I sat gripping my steering wheel, and clenching my teeth. My eyes were stuck on those two bodies, it was as if I was trapped there with them. The car behind me, eventually turned around and I was slowly able to turn around and pull away from the gathered group of people, line of cars, and two possibly dead bodies. I drive up the road and hear sirens. I pulled, once again, to the right of the road, and let three ambulances pass me. I drive home blank stared and in a zombie phase. I got to the parking lot across the street from my house and began uncontrollably screaming and crying with a pain I have never felt before. I thought of their age, their families, the pain they must have felt. I also thought about how they must have felt entrapped on the cold road , unable to move or communicate, waiting for an ambulance or an afterlife. I felt so angry, and had a revelation , that the only possible thing I had in common with these two people were humanity and death. As I sat envisioning, these two bodies, I remembered my past and how once I wanted to be there. How once, I felt so low, I tried to bring myself to this ”only guaranteed factor of life.” I know I only arrived home a half hour ago but I am already feeling haunted by this incident. I will never forget what I have just seen. I now understand how precious life really is. It is not just a cliché saying to me. I now know anything can happen. I don’t think I understood the meaning of life. At age seventeen, I sit here now knowing death is horrifically permanent and that life is an unexplainable beauty. I will never forget marlborough road, and I will forever cherish the roads that my life takes me too.

Sometimes I forget, but only sometimes, you become that book at the bottom of the stack. The part that just barely peaks out, so you can only see one word from the title or author. Thats the part that makes you randomly remember. Every time you glance over at the stack, and see the edge, with that one word. Thats those sometimes, that the remembering haunts you. In between the remembering and forgetting, you have that frustration which is like the time when  you get that glue stick. That  glue stick that is dried out. All you can do is roll the glue stick up and down, dreading the fact you now have to take a trip all the way to a store to buy a new one. On the car ride, you stop to get a coffee, but all you can think of is how that "supposed significant other" never told you they didn't like coffee for two years and you would buy them one every day. I wish the only thing you took from me was that  $2.63, in a styrofoam cup, but you unfortunately took a lot more than that. So now, out peaking is that word from that book at the bottom of the stack. Who knew that $2.63, gave you the feeling of being deprived from oxygen. Now driving, you think a little but a little too much. So you shove that memory into the jack in the box in your mind and hope it does not pop out again. Arriving, at Staples is sadder than intended. So while looking for a new glue stick, you start to find a way to get a bottle, you find it, and you drink it. The liquor spills over that book. The one hidden at the bottom of the stack. It drowns the pages. No good or bad memories, all thoughts drifting away like the words on that page. Just like the page everything becomes a blur. Waking up with asleep by the smiths still playing, you roll over and feel that sickness.You wonder why you do this to yourself. But  it blurred out the book, though the one at the bottom of the stack that started to peak out again.  So sometimes, I forget, but sometimes this is what happens when I remmember.

It was magical to see him crack
It was not a symbol that his youth was gone
But a glimpse of the innocence behind his façade
Sounding cynical, but loving the show
So put together, seeming inhuman, but when emotions came
Sickly interested and fulfilling that craving
To see one at a downfall
It was magical to see him crack

give me love: not later, not tomorrow, not yesterday but today
i'm tired of hiding away to revise myself for you
there is no revising left,this is it
this is the conclusion
i know dear you liked the intro a whole lot more
im sorry, ive been chain smoking
constant painful inhales, to feel less drownings of anxiety
let my blood fill with toxins of alcoholic infatuations
another girl; kissing cheek and staring into pale blue eyes
the pale blue eyes i got stuck in for six months
on a break for revising, isolation from everyone
i changed
i changed
i changed
i faked happiness because i was not allowed to be sad
i changed
i changed
i changed
i got rid of the addictions all on my own
i changed
i changed
i changed
i am doing what makes me happy to impress you
i revised it for you, i rewrote myself for you
i changed
i changed
i changed
but i did not revise enough, so you found  a new one
my size
my height
my hair color
my eyes
my ******* name; the same name
and you took her
and left me here
with my revisions
giving  love, later, tomorrow, yesterday, and today to her

Waking up in the most vulnerable state, she peeked her eyes to the left. His lids were still closed over his royal blue eyes. She quietly slid out of the turquoise covers and put on each of article of clothing, as if there was a fire drill. The adrenaline to leave the house, could not break the splitting headache erupting inside her. She crept down the all too familiar stairs and quietly creaked open the French door.
She ran to the dock and pulled out the half empty pack of her American Spirits. She decided to take out the lucky. As she watched the sunrise, she looked down at the water, and immediately started kicking the ripples, avoiding all confrontation. Harshly breathing in each puff and letting it go, only after her lungs felt like they were going to collapse. She took out a nip from her purse, ***** of course, and cheered to the new day.
Feeling uncomfortable in her own skin, she pried her leather jacket off and pulled her black dress over her bed head hair. The girl slowly slid into the water. She floated on her back, envisioning all the places she would rather be. All the other oceans, bed sheet covers, and foreign cigarettes.
Becoming conscious that the big hand on a clock had probably gone around multiple times, she slowly crawled out of the water, and rolled onto the dock. She sat for just one more minute, looking out at the sea. She whispered, “What a pretty blue” and sighed. Then she pulled the dress on, and walked to the house, as it began to rain. Arriving at that perfect-looking house, she became fixated on a tiny bit of mold that started to grow on the picket fence. Then she went inside and left her jacket at the door because she was never one to wear her emotions on her sleeve.
She crept back up the familiar stairs, and back into the turquoise covers. His eyes still sealed with slumber, appearing as if maybe he was in a never ending dream. She sat wishing sleep would embrace her, like it had for her husband. Instead she looked at the ceiling, and mouthed the word “home” as a tear slid from her eye  and dripped onto her ocean- filled hair.

The loneliest summer with a boatload of goodbye
with a non existent voice of whisper, I wished the new love away
never knowing that the infatuation could make me feel so high
Sitting with words stumbling over shot glasses to forget that day
smoking cigarettes because they reminisce of your scent yet lie
but like love, scents burn bitter sweet sensation
nothing and everything I never again confide
but I wish not remember that changing season confrontation
knowing you were not mundane thought so moon phase new
take that lipstick off my lips as easily as you can keep your word
true colors release, as hostility grew
living in your life -now- off only what I heard
scared to speak three words, eight letters feel
manipulation to keep always as need
promise of nature that you would not leave scars to heal
but you dear knew I loved you, why did you need power to succeed
in case you feel despair, you still twist my mind
leave me with a solitary life, not ready to let this go
i'm scared that infatuated feeling will be hard to find
still hung up like rope, melting low
still hear that voice speaking soft almost speech but less
the loneliest summer with a boatload of goodbye
I still love you, this is the coffee stained paper confess
never knowing that infatuation could make me feel so high

I became mesmorized by the water filter attached to the sink
From ***** to clean the water glides
Doing so to please each humans needs
Water the necessity, the core of living, life, existence
Filling each cup of energy
Filling each cup of life
Filter: a device to remove impurities
My mind drifted and with shaky hands I began to remember
Filter: a device to remove impurities
How similar I though how similar
Filtering , like  my speech daily ,y words altered to be clean
To build into the right sentence, the sentence that fits into a specific place  set and stone
Once it is filtered there is not return to *****
I remember as a child the day I was told to filter
The day I was told to engage myself within myself
To intertwine words in between my bones and hide them there untill they we're spell checked
to play hide and seek, more hiding than seeking
Make sure the words find approval
Ecspecially  through man, because the word man is placed in woman
But woman not in man
As a defiant child I questioned life's reasonings
A woman found me, an adult figure I clung to like the last leaves on a tree
She spoke elgant and quiet
You cannot stand alone young girl you must think before each syllable flys like birds from the cage in your mouth
Suppress your  mind disable yourself so you can exist among the superior
For generations to generations this is the curse
but such a blessing to live
We do not question humanity or the man in the w-o
You were born this way dear you cannot help whats under your skirt
I will train you to deal with the cards you have been dealt
But never speak of my teachings for out loud we are equal
I opened my ears like arms for a hug and stitched my mouth like buttons on a shirt
Ten years later I stand at my kitchen sink and I feel the words under my ribs and the sentences wrapped around my neck
I open my trap to let go of the misspelled words under my ribs
But there gone, seeking and seeking I want all my words back but they evaporated, forgotten among the earth
I take the filter and twirl it in between my fingers
Holding freedom between palms
filter: a device to remove impurities
I pour a glass of ***** water and take a sip, a gulp,
oh. the glorious tast, the glorious taste of impurity

The entangled dust touched garden
hold secrets from the seasons of change
desperate chameleon leaves
                                                  C
                                                     L
                                                        I
                                                          N
                                                             G
To the trees like the last
plucking petal to the flower and a naive child,
praying for ears to BURN with those ignorant yet powerful words
                                  "he loves me"
Broken
             D
                O
                   W
                       N
                            Like compost
                                     Left there
scented mint leave aura adjusting to a constant reminder of your scent
knowing I was decomposable
but nothing in a garden stands
              *alone

I always act like this maelstrom of destruction is not by choice
I sit and scream in my mind but can’t get out my true voice
If I could speak do I know my speech
Would I listen then teach but never preach
Would I say the truth or cover it with a blanket
Would you listen with bird like free ears or like jenga try to take out a piece
Would you understand or burn me like a spatula flying off grease
Will I be ok when you act all cold
When I know you don’t care about a story unsold
I try to free my mind by hearing my shy voice out loud
But the stories I have I’m not always so proud
So I guess i’ll sit and have to start from the start
So when you take a dart and throw it at my heart
Remember I tried I tried to free my mind
And from the deepness of my heart maybe there was something that I wanted to find
When you sit and talk about a past that I never hard
And you judge me like you’ve never been sad
When you all act like you can deal with your pain better than I can deal with my own
Like you’ve never done something messed up and learn and grown
When you say you all carried me up my stairs because I couldn’t stand
Well that’s a lie because I wish I could have got a helping hand
And I get so explosive when I hear everybody talk, talk, and talk
Not knowing about the scars or the places that I had to go
So good luck covering up your own pain by stooping this low
You know nothing about me or the pain that I do still hide
So next time at those lunch tables, lab tables, lockers
Look at what you’ve done, said, hid, or when you lied
About a girls past that you never really cared about and just wanted something to put into that conversation
Maybe if this mad worlds lucky next time you’ll give it some hesitation
And when you sit there every single day
Remember that this was the something that I would have, could have, should have, wanted to say