My words became
knives.
A paragraph,
a sword.
And when I
made
my first speech,
the room
                was
                        hit
                             with
                                            a
                                                    grenade.

silly girl,
                  silly girl


       hands clench,
                                  toes curl
  

                    it's so much fun,
                                                    watching­ you unfurl.

i tried to buy a heart across the street,
but the man there said new hearts don't come cheap.

like icarus
i was too close
and felt too much


                       high
             too
flew  


and burned
                            a   w        a              y




and now
                 there is nothing left
                                                       but
                                                                dust.

i could write about the sun
or the sea
or the terrier that lives on 5th,
i could write about my dad's baseball cap
or his blue jacket that stubbornly refuses to tear,
i could write about life and love
and all those other things that poets seem to know about,
i could write about the condition of my soul
and the slight concave in my chest that steals away the air,
i could write about my favorite song,
the winding drive back from the beach,
the softness of a clean bed,
i could write about all these things
but yet,
               i only seem to write of you.

i can see it now
you'll pick me up at the corner
just like you used to
and we'll drive down the coast
heading nowhere with no cares
and the salty pacific wind
will weave through our hair
and make you laugh the way you do
from the bottom of your chest to my smile
you'll play me songs you found
and stowed away for this moment
like tiny treasure boxes of gold
with "i love you" inscribed on the side

this is what i dream about
this is what gives me peace

i never thought i would miss it so much.

it baffles my mind,
that the world didn't stop when you did.

i fell in love with the words you said,
so i strung them up above my bed.
but the shadows played tricks upon my eyes,
and your beautiful words turned into lies.

i have a wall of the things you said,
it sits and it rots above my bed,
and it sits and it waits and it turns to dust,
'cause you said it was love when it was only lust.

all the tragic love songs are starting to make sense

and still,
it is there.
an undeniable
and persistent
sort of ache.
the kind that sinks,
and festers,
and cries.
it is still there,
"the missing."

he asked to read my poetry
and i had to tell him no
and when he wondered why
i had to reply
you've undressed my body
but poetry is my naked soul

warm soft hugs
like gold hued ships
bathed in the setting sun

arms restrict
like drowning dark ships
the panic has just begun

left me empty
now leave me hollow
regret and guilt
just pills to swallow
learned to breathe
under the ocean
paper doll
going through the motions

there are some beautiful things,
that the eye of a camera will never see.

be aggressive with your love babe
i need you to demand
be harsh with your affection
it's the only way i'll understand

beau·ti·ful
/ˈbyo͞odəfəl/

adjective


a thing with soul

that i may return to the something greater
that i was a part of many years ago
and my flesh will become nothing
and my soul, everything
and this will happen
all at once

she waits until the door closes,
and pauses,
and listens,
while her hands grip the bathroom counter,
white like the first blizzard of a snowy December,
and hawklike she listens,
for the slightest creak of the floorboards,
for a stifled hum or a muffled footstep,
and when she hears no one,
her face begins to break,
like a piece of china crashing to the ground in slow motion,
and with one shuddering breath,
she allows herself to fall to pieces.

There is no arguing when you're drunk
You never listen to what I say.
And there's no use trying even when you're not.
You don't understand either way.

i used to trust my lovers
but that was long ago
now i see no others
the past my mind must go

i used to trust my lovers
but now i doubt my heart
heirloom of my mother's
and it's tearing me apart

this summer i have been gardening.
it is something else new.
it is almost july and you would laugh to
see my hands in the dirt.
i have rocks under my fingernails
from scratching at the soil
to see what
it is like underneath.
i’ve seen worms and spiders and
spiny crawlers with squirming legs.
but my dear, i have yet
to come across you.

The music was never sad
But now it is
And I can’t quite put my finger on the reason
The wind has quieted down
And the birds are sleeping in the nest
There is a sinking in my stomach
A bug crawls across the screen
Maybe it’s just the night, the wind says
But I don’t think that’s why
No, that’s not the reason why

“i just don’t really wanna be here anymore,” he said softly.

“where? where don’t you wanna be?” i asked.

“i just can’t be here anymore.”

i am so
disgusted
revolted
by your image
you narcissistic
shell
there is
nothing left
in you
but ash
and even
now
you are
overreacting
you think
that you
deserve
to feel
pain
you
egotist
for once
can you
think of
someone
other than
yourself?

you ask me why i'm nervous
and in my head i reply,
i don't want you to uncover
the parts of me that i despise.

i have always struggled with physical touch

perhaps its because
i received too much
all at once
and never quite understood
what i was being given

perhaps its a million other reasons
but it is too difficult
to understand the past
so for now I'm stuck with
my present longing
for some kind of touch
that doesn't make my skin crawl

most people say
they are are afraid of dying,
but perhaps it is love
that is most terrifying.

and the knight drank and drank from the well
for that was what he read in his books
but he felt no great strength course through him
nor any great swiftness nor new knowledge
he was still just a small man
in a tin suit
and he cursed the world
and the world said
a promise never made is a promise never broken

i loved him because he made me feel small and fragile,
a feeling i never got quite used to.

and even if a thousand people read my poems and said that they were beautiful, i still would not feel peace

it's the type of secret that isn't yours to tell.
you know?
but oh how i wish to feel less alone.
it's just me and this secret i stumbled upon,
and it's trapped me in this perpetual state of processing.
it's not mine to tell,
but it lingers on the tip of my tongue,
waiting for me to betray it...
and betray you.

everyone says that it's brighter in the sunshine,
but baby,
it's the rain that makes all the colors shine.

and the waves pulled back
and so the sand could finally breathe
and it filled itself with sweet drug-like air
and smiled at the sun
before it all returned
and the drowning began again

once there was a young princess
who was consumed with finding her love
she traveled far and wide to find him
scoured below and above

once there was a foolish princess
who gave her heart away
and received it back in pieces
when her love didn't stay

once there was a broken princess
who met a knight in the woods
and he made her laugh and smile and shout
for his soul was pure and good

once there was a young queen
who learned that love takes different shapes
and the loyal knight that bandaged her soul
showed her that friends can be soulmates

welcome to suburbia
where numb is the new norm
stay awhile and realize
it's the quiet and never the storm
oh i'm not complaining
i'm just stuck here waiting . . .

drown me
and breathe life
into me again
i beg of you
bathe me
wash me from myself
swell
and break
into my skin
curl around me
and take me under

i killed my mother
i know it's true
she's still in mourning
for the girl she once knew

i will go softly into the new year
hiding from the night before the clock strikes twelve
i will be asleep
buried six feet in my bed
a silent suffocation
a quiet crime
i wish i could gather some bravery
watch the time tick tick twelve and feel something close to fireworks settle in my stomach
but i know
that the stones that live between my ribs will pull my body down
and my blankets will pile like dirt
and my pillows will hold my breath in place
and i will go softly
i will go without a fight
there is so much weight that resides in my chest
and it whispers to me
that in this new year
perhaps it is better to be a ghost

It's rainy all the time
where I live.
It's just the every-day.
It lives where I breathe.
It sleeps where I dream.
It goes unshaken.
I hurt, I pain,
I kneed my heart out in search of the source.
What is in there?
I tire,
as I have tired before.
It's rainy where I live,
all the time.

it feels
a little bit like a dream
the way we would gather in the night
and walk the same path
with hushed whispers
down the elevator
into the lounge
taking our unspoken places
whispering among ourselves
about the day's adventures
but then we would be seated
and someone would break the seal of silence
and we would begin to talk...
about life
about love
about lust
about our futures
our dreams
our deaths
we would predict for each other
what we saw in their crystal ball
though we knew each other
for less days than i can count on my hands
we heard stories about ***
stories about friends
about hometowns
about heartbreak
we shared as many laughs as there are stars in the sky...

and when it all ended
i wondered where the time had gone
or if i had imagined it all.

tiny cracks in the pavement
what flowers will bloom today?
wilted and glorious and good
i walk on them with purpose
flowers are not meant for the street
they are for flickering candles
and whispering fields
and all the other things
i know nothing about

the others weep
at a ****** of daisies
but i will not

they are nothing to me

there is a biting chill in the air
today
that's snuck into bed with me
ruffled my hair and
wrapped around my wrist
caressed the hollow of my throat
it is not unkind to me
no it is not a storm
it's just a slight crack in the window
and it says to me
just lie with me
let me weigh down your soul
the world will wait

and so i stay
and my soul is weighed down
but biting wind is a bitter lover
and on the third promise
it lied
the world did not wait for me
and so i am left behind

perhaps that is all for the better.

i miss having somebody...
but i don't miss having you.

there are girls
that glow like a warm sunset
their bodies are flowers
delicate and small and easy

you think that i'm indifferent,
dancing with everyone here but you,
but honey I'm just nervous,
waiting for you to catch a clue.

and it's hard sometimes,
when you perform the part,
but no longer know who the actor is.

at night
when everyone is sound asleep
i have to remind myself
that i am breathing
and i am alive