Every morning as a
New day
But that doesn't mean the consequences
Of our actions are taken away.

Every night I'm
One day older
But that doesn't mean I have less of these
Burdens to shoulder.

Every afternoon is
One more chunk of trickling time
But wasted hours add up fast
Like millions are made of nickles and dimes.

Every single late
Night I spent awake
Could have been used
For society's sake.

Now and then and
Here and there
Are the seconds I surveyed
The ones of love to share.

We tap-danced in Target
Skipping up and down with
Doublemint and Milky Ways
Twizzlers and the bittersweet chocolate waltzes.

We crouched in the corner
Not to shoplift, just to talk
Exchanging philosophy with paper towels
And lead the paper plates through secrets.

We walked on cracked sidewalks
Chipped with the dubious glances of fate
How many feet have wandered these streets
And how few have really seen?

We sat in the backseat
As the brownish gray fields rushed by
The setting sun stayed suspended in the sky
Burning up the tired atmosphere.

We drank mixed lemonade in chilled, clinking cups
Front porch step afternoons
Frosted glasses drained of sugary pink
Summer expectations.

When I wished innocently in February on
One cold night saturated in body spray
For friendship to be free
I had no idea how lovely life could be.

If I knew a florist
I would call her Fauna
If vegetables had more emotion
We would call them raw.

If trains of thought ever stopped
They would wait in static stations
If writers fought wars
They would squabble for imagine-nations.

If natural disasters happened
In response to heartbreaks
The cities would be reduced to
Rubble in the earthquakes.

If all the world were glazed
In frosted poetry
All the prose and politics
Would cease to disagree.

If in all the valleys of shuddering woe
I could count one battle fought
I would consider it my greatest boon
To defeat a juggernaut.

But thrown throughout the acrid pines
Are drops of leaking light
And sunburns on the soul are painful
Even in the cooling night.

I think you were
Proud of me
I was always your
Little girl
You forgot I wasn't
Little anymore but even
When you couldn't show it
You still loved me.

Were you proud of me
When I played guitar and
Sang badly or well, depending
Because you loved it?
Even after he told you the
Secret I wanted you to
Die not knowing because
I didn't want to hurt you?

Would you be
Proud of me today if
You'd been dealt a fairer hand?
Would you love to hear
The poetry I write in smeared
Pencil and read aloud to airy rooms?

Would you smile when I
Let loose a sizzling lick
On the guitar I bought with
Money you left me?

Would you hurt when I
Stood in that hallway crying?

Well, tonight I turned sixteen
She sent me money in a sappy card and
A scarf and I called her and you
Weren't there to hear.
Tonight I turned sixteen and
They gave me a beautiful ring
Would you have been in on
The secret?

You weren't there
You weren't there
You weren't there
I wasn't there.

Erase another line keep
On trying to forget but I
Can't ignore these
Graphite graveyards.

Would you love to see me
Stand tall and become
Beautiful, a leader
Myself?

Wherever you are tonight
Do you wish you could
Know the me that losing you
Made into me?

Because I'm proud of me, I
Smile, I hurt, I love, I
Wish, I wish
I wish
I miss
You.

February always makes me feel
Cheated.

Only twenty-eight days
Three less than
It could be.

February always makes me feel
Confused.

On the twenty-eighth you go to bed
When you wake up sometimes
It's March
And other times
It's not.

Are February's feelings
Hurt?

Who picked the second month
When the year is just beginning
Who picked February to be the one
To die young?
Why not another month, why
February?

Did they merely want to
End winter
Faster?

February always makes me feel
Cheated.

I like pretending I'm not alone
Tap my head and ask if I'm home
Ignore you, ignore you until you go
Because always and always, the answer is "no".

I'll turn on the radio, I don't own this station
Start spinning words, build-up burnt-down nations
Uncomfortable thinking, move down a level
Until, underneath, my pen's killed my devils.

I like pretending I'm not alone
I like sending words into empty phones
Pretend you don't see, invent your excuse
Nothing's concrete when you're a recluse.

Lie on this mattress, suppose it's not mine
Tonight I'm done telling myself I'll be fine
Only my lines, a partial illusion
Breathing in deep the confusion of fusion.

Him and I we never were
Never will, never wish until you are sure
All princes are frogs and all males mice
Let's go back to third grade when they all had lice.

I like pretending I'm not alone
So easy to be lost in this cast-iron zone
Maybe one day my walls will fall down
When I find the one who inverts my frown.

Speed bump vendettas
Hit the gas and watch it go
In our winding opinions we're constantly making wrong turns
But to look at the mileage, you'd never know.

I'm walking on the yellow line
Lean to the left and lean to the right
And hope that you don't die tonight
The road to Hell is paved with good intentions
So I guess we're living in a hard-hat zone.

Streetlights can be cruel when they're showing parts of me
Streetlights are heavy when they highlight what you can't see
We keep parking too far from the curb
As we keep overspending our words.

You watch the cars, I'll watch the street
Our thoughts in the headlights, they never meet
Maybe our ideas are all we'll ever be
You keep counting yellow lines, disregarded like me.

We'll take turns backseat driving
Maybe that's the only way we keep surviving.

Heartbreak tastes like
A bitter root, grown from
Lonely nights spent building
Airy sky castles made of
Imitation crystals or golden clouds
Lined with silver.

Dreams, hopes, stacked to
The stars and back
And yet afraid to be felt
Content with staying hidden in atmosphere.

Atmospheric empowerment, it's all
Just one of those subsidiary
Illusions, a lost line of
Endless pushing to be real.
I cannot create something that
Was never meant to exist
Not even the sheets of feeling that try
To choke the wasted, flowered beds.

Watch the fresh spring dirt until
Something happens, maybe it
Grows or moves, perhaps the ground
Talks, just wait, you'll see
Someday the sky and all its
Seemingly hopeless objections of freedom
One of these days, in perseverance
The sky will find a way
To touch the earth, to befriend soil
And reconcile the trees, to forgive, but
Will the heavens ever
Run to the ends of themselves?

I had a dream once
Where I stood in a
Dark city and stared
Up at the tall rectangle of
A skyscraper, watching the
Squares of light reflected
Although there were no
Streetlights, just the vague
Idea that the moon must
Be out there somewhere.

Lost somewhere came a
Muffled sound, the faraway echos
Of a darkened city needing
No light.
And in the dream I had
Deeply poetic thoughts about
The invincible silence contained
In noise and the languid light
Minced in frenetic darkness.
I felt the feelings of the
Tousled screams of loneliness
Trapped in oceans of men
And the panicked skepticism of
Sinking ships, falling into asphalt.

Unfortunately before the thought
Was entirely formed I
Woke up and
Couldn't remember any of it.

I live in an
Enchanted Forest.

If you were to pull up
The shaggy rug and
Peer between the blonde floorboards
You would see the grassy carpet.
Behind the bookcase stands
A grove of old, wise trees.

Scrape away the ceiling to see
A cloudless blue sky
Echoed by the secret pond
Beneath the window, and at nights
The purple lava lamp
Becomes the moon.

Under my zebra sheets
Is a mossy bed of magic
And in my dresser drawers grow
Patches of wildflowers, eagerly
Awaiting the day I wear
The t-shirts covering them.

Hear the echos of the laughter
The elfin mirth hiding in
Country radio, can't you hear
The fairies plucking my
Guitar strings, as the wild
Animals sing along?

I live in an Enchanted Forest
But it doesn't take perfume to smell the magic.