happy happy one more year
11:01 hello life
it seems sacrilegious to cry tonight
spinning is okay.
thank you for being you

--with titanium in your brain and blood
of your innocence on your hands
the ultimate sacrifice
I thank you for your intense genius

--with faithful diligence in your back
pocket and continuous
reassurance
I thank you for your patient impatience

--with peace under your tongue
and understanding in
your breath
I thank you for your acceptance

this is the love song
of yet another
bruising and healing year

10-17
secret lingo of nothingness
rings on my fingers
my someone is playing with them.
I should remove one but
it is silver and stands for an ironic
freedom
10:12 this is the aggregation
of heartbreak and self-love
the desperation of my unforgivable
humanity pushed away
buried under my high-top clad feet
for 35 minutes
I want to cement in you
a love for your idiosyncrasies
repetitive and consuming
craving the word crave
is redundant but
there is nothing I would
hide from you

i Keep rubbing my wrists and my forearms nervously anxiously and can
feel the tendons ache and the muscles on my left forearm snap back and forth: a (broken) guitar string slapping the frets every
time it is
strummed.  If i push on the muscles --or the string, perhaps there is no difference-- too hard my hand (goes numb) and the cord (chord)-like muscles seep exhaustion into my skin --forgive me for this. there is little i can do and big i can do but all i remember is everything
it starts small a little bit of pain but i know I will willingly take it for just

( a little bit of you )

infiltrating me I don't know why my legs ache and my skin fights against me I am grateful for You fighting for me grateful for me fighting for You

this has been full of change full of upside down i am proud of my START AGAIN abilities of my explore: drive anywhere you want GO GO mindset
but sometimes I ache. calling you nightly is
not enough but I promise to make it enough
to try to make everything you do
feel like more than enough

                                             i love when the sun is warm and it is cloudy and i get the opportunity to trip over you Accidentally or (not so accidentally). falling into tears every time I hear a symphony play-- perhaps there is no love in the world comparable to a
symphony or perhaps I am
sinfully biased due to my
experiences with symphonic beings

i Intend to live my life Running or dancinG with symphonies blossoming between my tender and temporarily not calloused
fingers and
with you and we
Constantly reinventing what it means to be Alive  
I will try my best ( for you and for Me) but
there is not
enough time

Blue Snoopy mugs and dark black coffee. You smile and I sip. I fling windows open to clean the inside air. It is negative degrees outside but in my bed we wake up sweaty. Bananas and pomegranate green tea, we read late into the night. Not unusually, I am alternating between euphoria and crises every few hours; the weight of existence is immeasurable. You explain the biology of monkeys and how we choose who our children become. I wonder about who I have become. We lay on the pink and the blue rugs and your body lowers slowly onto mine. You say you want a life centered around this; I say I agree. My head is too full of you to say anything more. I rub lavender and chamomile oil over my chest. I think of it when I walk outside and wonder if I am as much a part of the earth as I want to be. You kiss my neck from behind and bring me back. I am always coming and going.

relentless
(not a word in Spanish)
te quiero
with earth and arms
spinning like the words
mumbles in my head
poetry is inherently egotistical
as if reading what hurts
my heart.yourheart.hisheart.
will cure anything

transferring songs and
lemon drops from under my tongue
to the inside of my gums
until they reach the lines of your
soft palms
my beautiful Nihilist
sugar and heavy whipping cream and berries
shedding the skin
of my cherished pedagogues
incompetence catching
violently in my
Alto-voiced throat
feeling too much
is dangerous.

humans
sitting in plastic blue seats
ignoring the catastrophic poisonous
element they’re breathing in and out
(oxygen takes an average of 80 years to
**** you)
it slowly sets you on fire
all of your molecules exhausting themselves
slowly burning up
in waves of passionate indifference

blue hair skinny black lipstick million cheap bracelets
girl stands in front of a mirror
and I swallow myself

"you pull blue hair off beautifully"

because she does
and who says what beauty is

you are art

shining eyes and imperfect skin
choose your addiction

life is mine

I ask her if she saw your eyes
She said she did that they are the
“boy eyes” but tripled and then
says but “have you seen your own eyes”
I said I hadn’t so I ran to the mirror
to see and started crying
at the way my dark eyes are full of peace
(giant wet pools of love) melting against my skin
through my pores
all because of
(you)

lying for freedom
is it acceptable to walk
my bare feet across the floor
is it acceptable to walk
my bare self up to you?

my pathetic mortality
etched into every groove of
my delicately built body
opiates dance around
my mind
take take take
choose your ****** I choose bare hands
on chests and
violin strings

welcome to this dream
I will spin you in c
                        es        ir
                          ­    cl
with me trying to fall asleep
melatonin completely absent from my veins
voices blur in messy paintings
(Goya total sense does make
compared to cinnamon gum
washing
the bitter sweet taste of someone away)
sirens scream too loudly
mesmerizing half of me
slowly spinning
                  spinning
(little me with a top on the porch in the summer sun)
except there's no sun
and this spinning cannot be stopped
life
too tangible now
and I suddenly need
cinnamon gum again.

sunflowers
a subject of amusement
( the come and go of laughter pinches )
buried under fabric
I resent it all (no more)
pineapples and honeycomb
finding love in the pit
of my stomach
(for trees and cream and earth)
                             /   /
                          /     /
                        /      /

cookie dust and giggling
again again again
soft soft skin little hands and sour breath for
a moment we are the same and you
little and young and whole run to me and
I am also whole occasionally
Especially with little arms around my
Neck
still in shock at the way love and
selfishness coincide and simultaneously
we survive. I strive to be kind out I am selfish for
wanting more time with little you (and also) so
full of love
giving you all (everything) I can spare.

sometimes I can feel my heart
     (when I drink
too much steaming black coffee) in
my chest
    and sometimes I feel it in the pit
pit
pit
of my stomach as my heart runs away
and sometimes I can't feel it at all
     (except that it's walking away and so are you so I'm beginning to see a correlation)

judgement is futile
as are ibuprofen and car-keys
when walking thinking talking
means breathing out poetry in the dark dark
corners of every inch
of the cranium

inundated people
high on drugs or life or love
lumber by me
dream-like                                                           i'm not here
(most of the time)

Dancesong soul your
gentle yet competent –oh so competent—
fingers are mesmerizing with
chipped baby blue nail polish
adorning the clear keratin
you often forget exists.

you also quickly cease to remember that
You Exist.  kaleidoscopic and symphonious
tremors of life can break
you in violent waves or soft
eucalyptus scented embraces
oscillating between ecstasy and
euphonious melancholy
is Okay.

raging with life
stay vivacious and full of
sweet scented oils and soft yet strong
--oh so strong—
unrelenting
music.

I sweep myself
into a puddle
and I evaporate
into the dirt

and I drown in
the sand
and I freeze
under blankets

and I hunger
for water
and I thirst
for words

and I taste
the anger
and I breathe
the impossible

and I cry
in sheer happiness  
and laugh
from a broken heart

but I still live.

it is 9:24
and the
insecurities of you haunt me
like gray skied-snowflakes
I wish I could crush them
in my yellow-white teeth
till they are powdery
turned into a powerless narcotic
diet soda tastes sweeter
than regular
spilling onto the seat of the car
I ordered it anyway
it's raining and there are
diet coke kisses on my
tongue
cloudy raindrops on
my forehead
dandelions in
my eyes

giggling I am not being
facetious but the sight of you
flying towards me is exhilarating
and quite honestly I can say that
you are the happiest thing I have
ever witnessed.

Filing robotically
Smiling like a million
(fake)
Mona Lisas
In a portrait that
has violently painted them
violently painted us
decided our landscape
(colors
design)
painted violently
smile smile smile
Mona Lisa smile
It demands that we smile
But
This is not art
Smile smile smile
But are you happy
Smile smile smile
But are you happy
Fall fall fall
crack the smile
serene Mona Lisa
is cursed
like us.

salty H2O i think
drains bitterness from
the thick-lashed shutters called eyes
hello
girl collapsing
clutching your hands together
begging for
a purpose
new smelly carpet uncomfortable
sun rays in the ***** window
liberate yourself
hands that aren't yours --hands of people
and peers and indoctrination--
are choking you
but you can run
run away from this
you don't have to live
like this.

do you remember sitting in the ER at 3 AM and seeing an x-ray of a head and a big white blank space in it and the warm white blankets on your 11 year old legs felt cold all of a sudden.  you were given a stuffed Beanie Baby frog and you ran around the hospital courtyard nervously taking the frog to Animal World with your 8 year old sister and her rainbow colored bear. and then you sat up and helped the nurse take your mom's blood pressure and he smiled at how clear her lungs were even with the asthma and told you that you could be a doctor if you wanted to because doctors save people they fix people.  

people can't be fixed.

there are so many different levels of mastery.  I have counted all of my fingers in rhythm backwards and forwards and I think I have mastered that there are 10 and only 10.  there are only 7 notes with little half steps increments in between them in the musical alphabet but the mastery of those? next to impossible.  who knew playing a violin could make you sweat down the nape of your neck while lining the rim of your forehead with frustration.  fingers become red and warm stop trying to play so quickly so much.  however, self-loathing is not healthy so maybe we should keep playing until I am red in the face and the loathing is cured.  

will it ever be?

you should stop doing the friggin peace sign at everyone you see but you won't and that's okay I suppose. I hope it's not true that people say what they really feel when they're angry...if it is I'm lost in contempt some of the time.

I am the most oblivious of the aware I hope salt skin is accepted here.

turns out that the more water you drink
the dryer your mouth is when
a pool of it runs down your throat
leaving your tongue sardonically parched

and writing poetry in classes filled with numbers
doesn't make them any clearer
      (however it does make you clearer)

people self-sooth all the time
playing with lips
hair
squeezing arms
clicking pens

and wearing dresses results
in legs sticking to chairs
eating a lot
makes your abs hide

stay away away away
you won't for long

the more water you drink
the more parched you become

I have no filter
raw naked bare authentic exposed heart emotions
constantly pouring into the open
humans are desperate for fidelity
and I know nothing but that

let's play a game
I'll hold up your pride
keep the walls
and stand alone to watch
you do your dance
and dissipate
from mainstream
even more than you already have

I know what I want
let's play a game

you smell sweaty (and honeyed,
like the Burt’s Bees soap you just
started using) I rest my
nose in the crook of your neck
and shoulder. I should like to
stay here while you do physics
(watching you write is
mesmerizing) but it is 1 AM
and my eyes hurt. I will
wake up eager at 3 AM when you
stumble into bed; pull you close
and mumble that I love you because
I do.
(the sweetest procrastinator)

I am feeling gold
tactless Mozart: sacrilege
religious thunder

happy ridiculous day to you and all of humankind.  I am confused at times to a level that I cannot always bear.  Death itself is mortifying.  Irony.  Laugh if you will but a full casket is emptier than a finished glass of water. I walked to the casket and I thanked her for her life.  "I'm sorry I never saw you.  But you never saw me either."

             sad that this death thing has ruined the us
funny: there is no god.  Goddess should capitalize automatically as well, but this male dominated society of humanity is ruled my a single perfect male.  Hey god hope your day is going well.

*an energy
you sing it wrong every time

I would like to give you a bouquet of flowers that I myself have created.         Drawn from the earth and filled with intense reasoning and reluctance, I would kiss myself into them.  Wrapped in a ribbon of black and left on your doorstep.  My mom shoveled dirt and was the only female THIS IS THE DIFFERENCE MAKING.  I was too weak this type of self-loathing is healthy. handing myself over to everything and nothing I know I will shatter.

    shattering for death unto death away from death.  stop writing about dying I'm still alive.  but how alive is alive?  

correct my grammar draw on my skin touch my bones until I am alive.  until the page is heavy with ink.

I like the thin blond hair on the back of your neck
in the light
and the way you touch your lips when you're nervous
(yes I know you don't know you do that)

these 16 years (square root of 256 with a root of 4 8x2)
spinning anxiously excitedly
baby jeep happiest thing independence is sweeeeeet

raindrops are euphoric thank you spring
please bring a storm to shake
my bones

my ****** control
growing ravenously
frick this shoot
I can control my mouth too

I love honey
on my tongue with butter
until it grows in my stomach
multiplying into gallons of
honey (sickly sweet)
suffocating me with a sweetness
I can breathe through
slowly steadily
all your pretty skin
and eyes that haven't lit up
nearly enough lately

so many pretty boys
(dark eyes thick eyebrows carved arms full lips Adams apple)
and I am mesmerized
only
by your furrowed brow
even as the chocolate eyed boy
touches my arm

Drops of red drip down my hand it
(looks like blood)
sweet red juice
the cold water is numbing my tingling
hands as I separate arils from peel
one popping bright red jewel at a time
I am learning to be patient with
(traffic and fruit peeling and anger)
myself
this sink room smells like burnt
ramen and popcorn and my socks
stick to the ***** floor
sitting on the ground
against the wall
If this is all there is I swear
I will be happy

swimming behind porcelain eyes
(I have always hated porcelain)
you are hard like ice
a cold arrangement of confusion
permeating the things you touch like
poison (ivy)
I am helpless when it comes
to this
an inside out a promise
clawing for something (but what is it)

if I love you
you will know because
I am all consuming
I will adore ever inch of you

(the bones in your elbow
the creases by your eyes
the space above your lips beneath your nose
the strand of hair behind
your ear
the way you blink
the shape of your toes
the way your
eyelashes flutter
the
slow
and then fast
beating of your heart)

lips become cherry red when I cry
and chasing cars hurts from my ears
                                                 down to my toes
because it was never wasting time

   I almost killed my jeep battery
(forgot to turn the lights off)
             drinking coffee to Iowa cornfields and a resurrected yearning
maybe I'll leave (I want to)
            --LA, Paris, Austria, Versailles, Rio, Carmel, Amsterdam, Mumbai--
I'm audacious and arrogant--much too proud of
                               my flaws
leaving would be easy: intoxicating
like caffeine
       stars
       fear
       laughing kisses
but staying means home and English and standing out like a sore thumb (a beautiful one) in public
            and the people I deeply love
                                      (and need) I can admit that now
so I'll watch the Capri Sun orange sunset
once again tonight
and try to intoxicate myself with
               cornfields, sassy 8th graders, my beautiful examples of true love, ADD, bashful boy,
                       and pieces of the world
  
                                                        ­              on my body

I have been taught to remember everything to be scared of every man.

Riding the bus I was harassed six times today.
Six times.
The way men look at you before they make a comment you just look down like you’re bowing to them it feels like some sort of respect when really I am just terrified

Every time a man says
“well hey sweetie **** sweetie smile sweetie **** those legs sweetie”

I have visions of reaching through their putrid abdomens and ripping their guts from their bodies

their blood dripping from my hands I know I would sob but

I would like them to fall to their knees in pain so that I could scream that this is for the women this is for all the women and I would leave them to bleed and bleed and bleed

like all the women have for generations

but

instead of that I look down and they laugh because I am vulnerable and small

...

inside I am angry and big and the hair on my body and the knowledge in my brain are the biggest acts of rebellion I can give them

how could I ever explain
the hiccups in my brain
(what was i just thinking)
writing 'bubblegum tongue '
degrades
the act of kissing

and I am full of carbohydrates caffeine almond milk
(vegetarian yes)
unmotivated to go vegan alone
sitting against a wall
with pink pig headphones in--my sister's I swear
reading grand hopeful endless infinite
quotes
oblivious to everything
fake
around me--I'm too preoccupied with
finding my alter-ego

                                                      ­                   was machst mich so glucklich

you can kiss
all the boys you want
pretty girl
but naproxen sodium doesn't
numb my pain
anymore than empty touch
will numb yours

I have not left her behind.

there is a way...etched within me I cannot separate myself. again
and again and again. the way you fall in love
with a step and a smell and a sandwich  
I am easily deterred from people

a good bye a leave me alone...placed gracefully between us.

it is almost May and there is snow on the ground
dusting the trees and baby leaves rebelliously
I dare myself to forget the warmth of
summer skin..again and again...

you are splitting me open like
a ripe pomegranate
my back arching beneath you
I am nothing but you
(and come and go and here and upside down)
you say your chest feels like it is exploding
and smile at me half naked in a sweatshirt
sinking into nothingness (everything)
you are garganta do diabo
(my eight year old self feeling a breath of
endlessness for the first time)
and Utah Beach and Mumbai at night
where I am breathless (breathless)
(I am raw here)
twisting my throat splitting
me open like I have never closed up.

mostly
I am angry that you took everything I gave you
I wish you had told me to stop and wash the love off of my hands
tenderly
you could have told me to stop to stop putting my thoughts into your self
to stop painting you over my body over every curve every corner of my brain
maybe I could have been more prepared more empty of you by the time you decided to make me leave

Dance around me
Kiss me like a flame to paper
Consume me entirely
And then let me fall apart
And get carried by the wind
Until I am nothing more than an echo

Sing to me
Embrace me like a tree to earth
Hold me tightly
And then speak to me calmly
Until I realize that I am not frozen
In this simple place forever

Play inside me
Flow through me like blood to the body
Fill me relentlessly
And let life carry me up
And be a storm that sustains me
Because the storm is the purpose to live

Whisper the truth
Free me like a caged animal
Engrain me with reason
And unchain me from the rules
So that I can finally breathe
Because freedom you tempt me
Dance, sing, play, whisper to my soul
Show me how to live.

furrowed eyebrows, dark brown like 80% dark chocolate
(and arching wind-blown tree trunks)
these songs are guttural
branching through my trachea like
sugar snap pea vines
erupting into my mouth
(sweetness)
in the most untarnished manner you are
the grand canyon/the great barrier reef/mount everest
(natural wonders) and
nothing short of
(breathtaking)

you don’t realize how much it hurts you when he
touches you for a moment and then begs for more
you say “no I don’t want to” and he pushes
(more) (more)
---says you are annoying and dramatic--
but you love him (so)
you grasp for straws you
gasp when he smiles and yet
your love is rotting and it is
filling your bones. All of the no no
I don’t want to” turns into
come back why are you leaving and then
you are clawing for air on the ground
calling your mom trying to tell her
how much you hurt without telling her why
because it might split her open
And that is the last thing you want to do.