Why do you even exist?
You make yourself look so pretty.
You put on your makeup of convenience.
Your gown of simplicity.
But in reality, you are a thief.
You are stealing from me.
You steal the value of personal contact.
You steal the value of a kindly written letter.
You steal the value of words.
I feel so betrayed.
I believed your pretty little lies.
But you tricked me.
You were not real.
You are no longer my friend.
Internet Communication.

I keep telling people,
"Art is my enemy."
"I haven't drawn in months."
"I don't like this piece."
"I'm close to giving up."
And then my mind...
It decides not to care.
I can draw without restraint.
And I do.
And I like it.
But then I am sent into self doubt,
All over again.
So when I draw something good,
Don't worry, I'm surprised too.

I have a jar of dried roses,
Sitting on my dresser.
Collecting dust,
Decaying petals,
Falling leaves,
They all remind me,
That beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.
I look at the jar,
I see the dreary colors of death.
The colors long ago faded to lifelessness.
I love the beauty,
Of my lovely roses.

Hello again, my old friend.
You always had a horrible memory.
So you probably can't remember,
But we used to go to the beach.
You used to call.
I used to laugh.
Even at your lame jokes.
We used to be friends.
But you left me,
One year ago today.
How did it come to this?
How did we become strangers?
So soon, so fast.
I see old pictures,
I see new ones,
I see your face.
You've hardly changed.
I remember those days.
And then there's you,
And you always had a horrible memory.

Hello, I miss you, I love you, Goodbye.

Behind the youth room, sitting on the pavement, I think of past times.
I sit quietly and submerse my mind in the memories…
And I wonder, if I leave, will I ever come back and do this again? Feel the sweet nostalgia?
Will I tell my kids about these memories?
Will I tell them about the ones that haunt me as well? The ones I wish I could forget?
I think I will. I wish my parents had emphasized on the horrific things those memories do to you.
Weeds overrun Ashleigh’s and my old meeting place.
Our drainage grate where we told secrets have been overtaken by bushes.
“My chest hurts a lot today.” “And when I look back, I see you waving”
-Grizzly Bear, Fix it

Fingers run through my hair
Air whips my skirt
Invisible force pushes me back
Gentle hands brush my arm
My eyes flinch with the stronger gusts
The cool brings chills to my skin
My mind feels relaxed and free

What am I these days?

I feel as though I am a phantom.

Walking through this life

Without a purpose, without a care

But I know that is false.

The words of the devil.

I am a daughter of His.

But I am like the prodigal son.

Eating with the pigs.

I want to feel Him.

Hear Him.

See Him.

Yet how can I allow it?

The way that I am.

I should be cast into Hell.

I chose imperfection.

Over Perfection.

Can I just change my mind?

Fall in love with Perfection?

All over again?

I hear that I can.

I feel His voice.

In the back of my head.

Answering, Yes..yes.

My darling, I miss you.

Let me hold your cares.

Let go. Be free.