At nine p.m.
      they roll up
            the crooked
                  sidewalks
                        like they're
                              fabric bolts.

And every neon
      light in the diner
            window flickers
                  in commercial dim.

When winter comes
      sometimes i drive past
            the closed ice cream stand
                  and think about what i never did.

At nine p.m.
      they shut off
            their overhead
                  living room lights.

Every dog is
      in for the night
            and only the cats
                  are crossing the street.

Small town
      cozy village
            happy people
                  normal sleepers.

                  so incredibly
            law-abiding
      stability's key
Not like me.

                             at nine p.m.
                        they roll up
                  the crooked
            sidewalks
      like they're
Fabric bolts.

                              but i've always
                        felt the need to
                  walk the streets
           around ten p.m.
      pretend they're
Still concrete.

I have a
Legacy.

Old Christmas lights
Vinyl siding
Rusted bicycles sprawled
On thumbnail lawns.

Two a.m cigarettes
On wooden porches
Scaffolding to store
Gasoline cans under.

I have a
Legacy.

"You were raised in
A trailer park."

But wasn't I?
Wasn't it the truth?

I have a
Legacy
A life that I
Escaped.

Thumbnail lawns can't
Compare to the life I got.

But not all will have
That kind of chance.

Remember when
We took a daycation?

Waterfalls
For days.

Milk bottle
Sepia vinyl.

Ice cream and
Truck drivers.

Ballerina buns and
Bare necks.

Waterfalls
For days.

Oblivion, the
Falling leaves.

Backseat
Views.

Gravel paths, we
Walked.

Waterfalls
For days.

Blue, blue
Skies.

Crystal
Springs.

Damp red
Leaves.

Waterfalls
For days.

Apples
Were just in season.

Photos
Wagging tails.

Honey tea
Quilted snuggles.

Waterfalls
For days.

Maybe it was
Just a dream.

Next thing
I knew.

I was throwing
A textbook at the wall.

Waterfalls
For days.

I was
Okay.

I swear, for
One day.

I was
Myself again.

Waterfalls
For days.

Remember when
We took a daycation?

I'm
Done
I simply
Refuse
To be
Pretty.

Cute, maybe
Adorable, sure
I could stand a shot at
Beauty.

But I will
Not
I repeat
Not
Conform to
Pretty.

It's surely
Nice to be
Pretty
But I'd rather
Take my
Sincerity
Or hilarity.

And I won't
Sacrifice my
Dignity for
Regularity.

Pretty faces are
For sale at a
Dime a dozen on
Our magazines
But I'm looking for
More than eyeliner
And lipstick
Guillotines.

I moved past
Pretty
Lost my shot at
Perfection
When I found a
Crack
In my gritty reflection.

Not to say I'm giving up
On my beauty intention
But woman cannot survive
On wardrobe interventions.

Anxiety keeps Depression
Up all night and then
Depression sleeps
All day.

And every day they
Argue over the things they
Did or didn't say
Did or didn't do.

Sometimes they watch
TV together
But they never
Enjoy it.

Anxiety is in college and
Depression doesn't help her
Edit her papers when
She asks nicely.

Depression had a good job
She enjoyed but she ended up
Losing it and now Anxiety
Nags at her to find another.

Neither of them can
Find friends, so even though
They hate each other
They're all they've got.

They keep trying to date
But every time one brings
Home someone else, the
Other scares them off.

Depression is messy
With piles everywhere
But Anxiety keeps the kitchen
Spotlessly clean.

Anxiety can't stop bossing
Depression around
But Depression can't stop pulling
The covers over her head.

Anxiety and Depression
Are roommates
In a mental
Apartment building.

And I'm waiting for Anxiety
To forget to renew the lease
And Depression to be too
Tired to do it herself.

I don't think I'll write
A suicide note.

What an obvious
Statement, when
I'm plainly not
Contemplating suicide.

But I never liked the idea
Of suicide notes.

And it was not
The idea that
Somebody had
Killed themselves.

It was the idea that
Somebody could have such a sad
Life that they could fit
All they had to say into one letter.

Traped behind bars, shaped as my mind.
I shall never see the light of your eye's.
Who you are, I have yet to know.
But before I do, I must imply.
If you are the one to love; to forever hold my aching heart.
I warn you this, a tale of tragic love.
For the closer you get, the further I shall push.
It shall not be you, your even me.
It shall be the thoughts that shan't let me be.
Just know this of me.
Before we know the colour of each others eyes.
If I push you away, it means that I love you.
But first please save me... For I am still trapped.
Let our names be known.
Let your eyes be seen.

The frost bitten air, forsing its way down my throat.
Seeping under the covers I hide in.
The sands of time, now drawing the numbers 1:40.
So late is now, yet so far from sleep I am.
My pillow calls in the silence coming from my walls, for me to visit.
And with the unwilling closure of my eye lids, I give in.
I rest my body, on the clouds were I dream.
For I venture into the dark, exploring for some light.

"darling
get out of
bed
drink a cup of
coffee
put on some
eyeliner
and i promise
you'll feel
better."