Lost
in a body
she should have had all her life.

Yet
she doesn't
know who she really is.

Dark
is what
she was made of.

An Angel
is who
she began as.

Then
with Lucifer
she fell.

Purple
and black
hair that falls down her back.

Piercing
purple eyes,
the color of African violets.

The Stench
of death
surrounds her.

Melodies intertwine as these
Undeveloped minds
Scrape by in
Isolation to find some
Consolation

Grey

     Dull

           White

                  Blinding

floating flakes

     Flitting down

           Ice peltiing

                Nothing melting

Left

    Right

          Left

               Winds pull the trees

Drifting
          
        Leaning

             Fading

I fade back into my dreams

Numb,
      Detached,
                 Alone,
I cry when nobody can hear me.

Fear,
      Pain,
          Confusion,
I don't feel when I cry.

Sorrow,
       Sharp,
              Stabbing,
I cry until I no longer can.

Search,
       Help,
           Lost,
When I cry I feel alone.

Death,
      Loss,
            Gone,
I feel guilty when I cry.

Him,
    Savior,
            One,
He comforts me when I cry.

Stop,
     Calm,
        Breathe,
He loves me when I cry.

Stars float freely above
in the rich darkness of the night sky,
claiming no responsibility to the lives below.

But the moon,
hanging heavily below the stars,
is imprisoned
by the tides she creates,
held captive
by the glow of evening romance,
and enslaved
to the culture she has inspired.

Seeing shadows which have fled,
Nothing's underneath my bed,
Darkness crawls around my feet,
They all laugh and think i'm sweet.

The first
gentle cracks of the spine
of a book
and the powdery scent
that it holds,
are the last things I need
before closing my eyes
and first things to beckon
me home.

But the best
part of all is the way
plots unfold
and the visions
of stories untold,
can make you leave
all your worries behind
in a world that is lonely and cold.

Every time
I look
into your beautiful eyes
full of joy
and twinkling
with excitement,
it reminds me
how much
I really
truly
love
you.

A man at the end of the world
Lifts up his arms, and flies away.

Illusive, glowing, gilded light
ever so slightly out of reach.

Here, but not really
Only half awake
Stuck in a rut
day after day

Dealing in unspeakable ways
no way to get out
I don't want to do what they say
I just want to leave.

Hes the only reason to stay
but should that be enough?

We dated,
it was weird,
I could tell something was wrong.

You said goodbye,
I did too,
and I felt so confused.

I didn't mean to not feel,
you just weren't the one,
then sometime we started talking again.

And then I found out
why.

You began by saying
you had a secret,
a deep, dark one that no one could know.

And for hours you tested me,
made me swear
to never tell.

Then you said it.

And everything made sense.

And now look at you,
opening up to the world around you,
looking at the hopes I have for you,
I am proud of you.

I am proud of you.

I am proud of you.

You have so far to go,
but you've come so far already.

I love you,
but platonically,
like a brother,
the one that I never had
to look up to.

So thank you,
and remember,
I love you
and I'm proud of you,
so very proud.

Places fly past in a blur of color,
All of the details lost to the wind,
Rushing here and there,
Knowing no one place,
Fixing the symptoms not the problems.

Patching together a human heart,
With duct tape and string,
Not love as it should be.
Not caring words.
Not help.
Not hope,
No.

Its all backwards,
We're doing this wrong,
Why does it have to be this way?

A poem is like a giant jawbreaker.
It has layers which are revealed with time.
Each layer revealing a new color and flavor.
No two are exactly alike.
Every single one has something new to offer.
A new pattern of colors and flavors, or words.
All artistically aligned.
For everyone to enjoy.
Practically endless.

I want to believe you don't think of her
but sometimes,
you bring her up.

It's not that we can't talk about it
but it may be
more often than I'd like.

Then again,
you tell me things,
everything,
and it makes it
okay.

Because at the end of the day,
I know
you love
me
more than you ever could have loved
her.

Oh, little blind girl
who I used to be,
tell me now
what is it that I see?

Oh, little blind girl
so little and so bright
why did you leave me
without a single fight?

Oh, little blind girl
why has it been so long,
since you've decided
to write another song?

Oh, little blind girl
what is it that I've done,
to make you hide
why did you run?

Oh, little blind girl
who can now see
where are you at
inside of me?

Have you ever been
in love?

So much so
that every
breath
you take
is
for
them?

And every second
you think
of them?

And when you're sad
you say
I wish
we could be together
right now,
all of the time,
forever?

I have.
I am.

It was what,
two weeks?

Those two weeks,
trapped,
alone,
lost.

I watched you hang all over her.

I.
Watched.
You.

In the top bunk.

Averted my eyes.

Peeled my emotions away from you.

Took
every.
single.
feeling.
and threw it into the ocean.

We were sailing,
on a sea of endless possibilities,
and yet
you spent that week
with
her.

I slowly settled into the casual numbness day after day.

Focusing on the friends I had made.

Pretending that cute boys were enough to make me feel okay.

Making music,
though inside
all
I
could
sing
were sad melodies
of lost dreams
and a love that
broke me
into thousands,  
of pieces.

And yet,
a year later
here we are.

In love.

Speaking of marriage.

Children.

Eternally happy.

And finally I can breathe.

In the morning when I wake
I know that you've been thinking of me

But from you never could I take
the love that you have given to me

I used to say I couldn't do it
I took the time to realize
I loved you daily, all the way through it
And now you won't open up your eyes

The first chord hits
as it starts to play,
and the second flows
I can't help but stay.

This song takes me back
to that house down the road,
though not far away,
its a lifetime ago.

And now as I lay
listening to it sway
I can see the yellow walls
and the flowers as they fall.

No longer can I be there
but I remember that day
when this song came to me
and I kept hitting play.

As the world falls asleep,
darkness blankets everyone.

The children warm in their beds,
the lovers happily snuggled against each other,
the new parents hoping to get just one night of peace and quiet,
the old woman who is sleeping alone for the first time in 80 years,
the single father who guiltily hires a nanny to watch his son during the day,
the lost man slumped against a building on a cold winter's night,
they are all covered by the same blanket of dark.

Then why have they yet to notice each other?

Every time the word ‘no’ comes out of my mouth,
Sorry reverberates
in the cavern of my skull.
As if I had just broken
every, last promise
made for me
when I was forced into
a world of blind eyes
and silent women.

Every time ‘no’ slips out of me
Like an unwelcome spider
Slipping through the crack
Between the wall and the floor
my breath catches
and I think to myself
“what did I just do?”

When a 16-year-old girl said no
to a “prom-posal”
she was murdered
by a 19-year-old male
who was taught his ego
is more important than a
woman’s life.

Because a woman on the subway
was uncomfortable with a man
placing his hands on her
like a ghost
seen by nobody else
she was slammed to the ground
and beaten
until her wrist was broken
and the man was satisfied
that she had paid the right price
for speaking up.

We live in a world
where no means absolutely nothing
when coming from the sweet-glossed lips
of a woman.
Because if no actually
Meant no,
Men would know when to stop.

Instead,
Women are ***** and told never to walk alone at night
Women are ***** and told to carry pink-painted pepper spray
Women are ***** and told “maybe you shouldn’t have dressed like a ****”

And yet
You have the audacity to tell me
That sexism is “dead”
And that I have no reason to worry
About being on my own
In a world where no
Means death.

Lying in rest position,
ready to play again
awaiting the song of emotion once more.

Ink flowing from the heart
staining the words red
as it empties onto the paper.

Carving into a blank page
as if it were stone,
picking away the surface and going ever deeper.

Playing “God” once more
as a humble human being
imagines a new world

I can see it in your eyes,
Those fleeting moments,
Those flashes of hurt
Where it just
Kills
Me to live there outside of you.

Outside of your world
Where the feelings are gone
And the cold hard truth is


**Nothing matters.

I said one thing,
that at the time I had no clue meant so much.

I told you something
that I felt was true.

And I didn't even think
that it meant so much to you.

You remembered my words,
two years later.

Thank you,
for making me feel
like I did one thing right.

Because some nights
I sit and I tear myself apart
searching
for something that I didn't
***** up.

And now,
I can say
there's one thing
I haven't.

Two lay in bed,
awaiting sleep as they lie in each other's arms.

Quietly speaking,
with their breath and slowing heartbeats.

They have found it,
peace, love, happiness.

When will we get to be them?

Stars beam bright, freely glimmer,
      taunting my soul that wishes to fly.
Glowing with their prideful gaze,
      luring me to meet them in space.
Yet when I try to reach them there
      they can not help but burn me.

Sometimes,
when the world is just a bit too much,
I crawl
to the technology around me.
Hoping
to find another life to live.
A life
that is unfamiliar,
A story
that is fun to tell,
Something
other than being
myself.

She flew,
     then fell,
           down,
                down,
                   down.
She felt,
     then hurt,
           hell,
              hell,
                 hell.

Not much to be said,
not much to be heard,
and that was the flight of a sorrowful bird.

Light illuminates the space around me                                                  
and like the branches above,
I long to touch the sun.

I let my feet sweep against the earth,
each soft blade of grass
sending a tingle up my spine.        

I relax into the tree,
releasing into the air a breath,
sharing with this moment
a piece of myself.                    

The scent of earth and moss,
like the feeling of a cool summer rain,
washes over me,
and pulls me into the realm of the in-between.

Like a child’s first snow,
the leaves fall around me.
Floating to the ground, gracefully,
as if they know the chaos that has consumed the world
is only held still in this moment.

Why did people tell me,
every time that I was sad,
that there were always men for me,
it only made me mad.

Did they really believe that?
Or were they just being nice?
'cos many times I looked around,
but they were cold as ice.

Now every time I look at you,
it truly makes sense why.
It wasn't that they were too cold,
it was that they weren't  my guy.