the lights on the dingy carnival rides glistened with a new kind of hope I still can't explain. the last thief's kiss still lingered on my lips and I felt well off. content with where I was standing in line and in life, you stepped in right then and intervened.
taken back by the small talk at first, I took quickly to what you had to say. felt a spark, but I was too afraid of having my fiery feelings extinguished.  Accustomed to being burned I was hesitant to let you in. There were so many unclosed doors I still can't help but to think about. Falling for you, falling for you of course it didn't take long. This time though was different- you caught me. Perhaps this is why when "Hey howdy hey" from an ex-flame came up across my phone screen, I felt super perplexed. Funny how just when you're happy and comfortable and ready to move on, a text from someone you were so sure lived in your past can trigger a thousand different emotions. Those icy blues I wondered so much about these past 8 months just had to peek in to throw me off. Sometimes though  it's way too late for sorry. Trying so hard not to think about the past, I remember the way that the lights reflected in your eyes that breezy August carnival night and kiss you harder. I want you to stick around.

"Don't look at me for another 20 minutes
     you got a dead look to your eyes,
                                                                                I don't need it."

that's it - time to kiss another year of my youth good bye.
kissing up and goodbye have been the norm in life as I know it so far.
it doesn't make coherent sense to me that my teenage years are gone.
teenage chapter of my life has ended,
and I have yet to experience much.
I had no teenage lovers or anything close for that matter.
no heart has ever yearned to beat next to mine.
no thoughts have been flooded with me.
no lips have thirsted for more of my kisses.
I've managed to carry on anyway,
yet my heart is bitter.
despite it all, as I turn 20,
I'm trying to not allow the heaviness of my heart to weigh me down.
20--my heart is fragile.
Please be careful.
I'm as ready for you as I will be.

I changed in the night
after two years of happiness
or something like it
one year of purgatory
I wanted you when you didn't want me.
Now it feels like the end of a dream,
the breaking of a spell,
the beginning of a reality.
Visited in the night by a thing, a thought,
a girl who wanted to travel, you could picture her looking ethereal,
worldly,
writing books in strange places, happy
married--but not to you
living--but not this life.
Not in a town where dreams go to die.
But as I made myself closer, I was trapped instead, bound eternally.
I'm in love--but not with you.
Visited in the night by a man
that I wanted who didn't exist.
Because I should have ceased years ago.
People look younger when they died in a past life.
Do I think about it?
Every day--visited by a secret, a sad truth
I can't.
But visions can carry you away.

This, today
Is your special day.

Twenty years ago today,
You were born to this world
By a loving lady and a tough man.

This, today
Is your birthday.

You were born
To love a lucky lady
And
You were born
To be loved by this lucky lady;

And I will stand by you
Through thick and thin.

You are my air.  I'll cling to you like how we all cling to life, space, and time.
*I will love you forever.
Happy birthday.

If only I had the time
To use all the time I have left
I'd use it only on you.

The letters glow –
        twisting fusing.
Words as sparks consume
bringing ash as
blackened paper ascends.

A shadow cast by language.

12:30 AM.
I am a ghost drifting through the midnight-quiet,
haunting flower beds and grasses
Undisturbed in their slumber. My body floats
Through my neighborhood, stealing the
Secrets of the dark.

1 AM.
Ghoulish eyes peer out from Mrs. Butler’s bushes and
Become miniature 3-eyed deer with antlers sharpened to
Daggers. They roam about her dewy lawn,
Feasting on worms and blinking,
Slowly, one eye at a time.

3:30 AM
Arrives, and they return to their hideaway home,
Disappearing with one final b l i n k
Into the rhododendrons.

5 AM.
I never knew that morning tasted like
Strawberries and honeysuckle and smelled
Like freshly-cut-grass-mixed-with-bonfire-smoke.
My Tongue is heavy with its sickly-sharp odor
And my ears buzz from the tangy sweetness.

7 AM.
Corporeal reality coats my body, connecting my mind
to my soul, my
Soles to the soil and I am incarnate, whole,
A body amid the sunlit specters surrounding me.

9 AM.
A mumbo-jumbo grin slides onto my face,
Synthetic in every aspect of the word,
My mouth is cotton-dry as I slink into the bogusness of a weary day.

10 AM.
Crowds of people smoosh together, their words co-mingling
And I crash my bike into strung-together sentences,
Scraping my knees on the voracity of barbed words.

11. “She’s a constant damsel-in-distress, but she doesn’t work in a strip joint!” I step around the shards of her fallen tiara as I climb the ivory-tower’s steps.
12. My wide eyes view futility as a type of texture, and I imagine it feels like sandpaper. My first class feels like sandpaper-futile in this struggle to stay awake.
13. Bicycling to la clase de Español se siente como moviéndose a través de melaza.
Mis pies cansados empujar los pedales pero I can’t escape the quicksand around me.
14. Reading the thoughts of my classmates helps to pass the time, and
I can see clearer through closed-eyelids than open eyes.
15. Red walks among their peers, watching for passing dogs and smiling at them. Red is
Hyperaware of people they knew from past school and recalls names and faces in seconds. Red is
A zombie trudging on shaky legs, lumbering down the bricked path.
16. Murky sunlight streams through tired clouds and blinking is a visceral kind of pain.
17. My poetry stews in my brain, rotting and fermenting until it becomes a fine wine.
18. Trees wish me good luck, waving their branches affirmatively as I pass by. Their comforting
Footsteps warm my soul.
19. Darkness steals the sun’s warmth but I’ve hours more to be awake.
20. I am a ghost floating through this sea of people. I drift through them, haunting their conversations
Haunting my own quiet mind.