Wear me, wear me out.
Oh wait, you already did.
It's these ones, these broken hearts
that give us the answers from within.

Young woman.
Older girl?
The faint smell
of Ferris wheels swirl
your life upside down

Gin and juice,
she married the idea
of remaining strong.

I've been wanting true love,
& I've got a guy who will tell it true.
Not sure if what we've got is love,
but it'll have to do.

countertop, she lays. Succulent globe for my palms, poignant reminder of winter. Acid will waken the cracks on my knuckles like dipping my fingers into the saltwater at the edge of Florida. This morning she perfumes the room from a splintering wicker bowl. My fingers could claw at her dimples. Tear away the flesh beneath her beady cover-up. Expose her bones and find new jewels encased. Torn pieces of her bikini would spiral to the tabletop. My eyes dance across her scaly membrane. Blood orange. The sun setting and bleeding. I thought of the sea again this morning, stepping out into winter.

i am not okay because you are not okay.

you hold my heart, everyone one of you,
and it has always been this way.

i stand strong with the belief in hope,
i carry an open mind through the gray.

one day our smiles will stay,
but until the peace of that day,

my heart, alongside yours too, cries.
this is all that i can say.

I am not an Extremist, I am hardly Feminist, I just am: and that's okay.  And I know that a public demonstration of kindness and love can have the same great effect as that done behind closed doors.

What should have always been by nature (loving, being kind, being humane, etc.) has seemingly become a phenomenon. It should have always been. Being. Existed and still existing. Acted upon and currently in action. But it's timed out and needs a refresh. Start here. Start now.

Make a sign if you want to, buy someone a meal, give someone a hug, tell someone you love them. Tell. Someone. You. Love. Them. Intermix and interlove. Love love love. Think, think, think. Care, care, care. Be loving, be thoughtful, be caring.

These elements are in our blood. When cut, blood turns red. Our veins? They show our blood: blue. But they are all the same blood in the end.

confused convictions
carry so much weight
& grasp my neck with
a hard, hard squeeze.

She dancingly sways,
a tree, grown old,
draped in amber, in gold.

And while the wind wracks,
her skirt holds tight
until she deems fit,
losing her gown to Jack's
choice linens of white.

Now standing,
bare, taut skin,
a woody skeleton.

Life is too short,
even when the days






are long.

Fleeting minds do not stray,
no,
instead, they lead the way.

happens outside
when you work
on the interior.

All things buckle when given into fear.
Be who you are.
Be who you are.
Be who you are.

I am white as charcoal
It means I'm on fire
It means I've been burnt

Last night I touched a hot pan
& today my fingerprints seem to be missing
& turned to smoothed over glass, no longer skin.

I would like to consume without
feeling like I am bursting the seams
that my first crush stitched me up into;
a tight, designer dress he unveiled: "fat."

ethereal tones droning,
harmonious wings flap
harpooning the heart
into soprano skies.

My mind is a gray, churning sky,
hovering mist, fog.

inside,
outside,
in between,
step back,
push ahead,
onward.

We plug up our ears
feeding music to our brain
so that the busy streets around
produce a dream-like state.

Peachy ****,
lipstick prints on necks
of boys.
No,
of bottles.

Alcohol leaves me puffy-eyed,
& so do the boys,
& if both are the same
I choose bottles, readily
available for only me.

my heart is broken,
as is yours.
i am in need of love,
as are you,
and you and you.

A Boy and a Girl

Stretched out on the grass,
a boy and a girl.
Savoring their oranges,
giving their kisses like waves exchanging foam.


Stretched out on the beach,
a boy and a girl.
Savoring their limes,
giving their kisses like clouds exchanging foam.


Stretched out underground,
a boy and a girl.
Saying nothing, never kissing,
giving silence for silence.
     Octavio Paz (1914-1998)

Poppy red and tangerine,
the brightest yellow and calming green.
Sapphire jewels and amethyst stones,
this is how beautiful our love grows.

Our age only wants to get it quick and leave it even faster.
And you wonder why they didn't fall in love with your laughter.
Because none of it was ever real, none of it is real.

Where do we go when we die?
Are we destined for clouds,
fire or for dirt?
I'm still breathing, heart beating,
wondering why I feel
as though I have died.
Does every end hurt?

December is like trudging through each weekend's heavy snowfall
And I'm sitting here aching, awaiting the healing, awaiting your call.

December is like hanging onto a rope too tightly,
When I loosen my grip, you tug again, nightly.

December has me at the end of a yo-yo string,
You drop me and I bounce between yes's and no's that sting.

December did not bring happy holidays this year,
I'm forcing smiles through the inevitable cheer.

December is my broken my heart, a heavy snowfall,
I'm aching, I'm healing, I'm forgetting your call.

Hurry waitress to the lackluster pancakes of the restaurant, your fingers smelling from its bacon.
Past my dingy silverware, vacuous plates, a cup of dead coffee grounds, your watered eggs. Your hair-tie snapped like a bomb exploding on the cover of a paperback Hiroshima. Let us go, waitress, and learn all of the reds in that sunset. The crimson sun hovers over deep cornflower waves. The ocean’s mist blinds us from ketchup-smeared napkins fallen onto waterlogged tabletops. A disaster zone you hope to be rescued from through an exit sign door.

It wasn't my plan to house a barren land
within my heart, you see.
As I walked all year, and fell in love,
everything was slowly taken from me.

It wasn't my plan to store a broken voice
within my throat, you see.
As I spoke all year, and shared my love,
I realized you never listened to me.

And now my feet are covered in dust,
it's desert in my mind and heart,
I am left behind, sad and lost,
but it's now that you want to restart.

Summer, you do not have to be a fleeting lover.

you don't have to do it better if you already do it best.

feel the sensation
of your insides rotting
within the confines
of a gray cube

I to focus on me
and you to focus on you.

The thrill of the chase is dead.

My dreamer heart is tied to you, dreamer.
I'll gaze out every window until you walk by.

When you don't put your passions to use,
leave them unmarked & unloved
in collectible cases up on the shelf,

When you don't put your gifts to test,
leave them wrapped & tucked away
in the corners of "some day,"

Do you feel like you are wasting your life, too?

Dreams,
they tell our futures
if we believe they do.

Dreams,
they tell our futures
what we want them to.

Dreams,
they tell our futures
if we believe they do.

Summer, you do not have to be a fleeting lover.

Dreams,
they tell our futures
what we want them to.

You do not have to be a fleeting lover.

Dreaming is important
in and out of the sheets;
inhale the sea
and bring it back to me.
Please, don't go,
but if you do,
breathe me in and
take me too.

I have a headache from dreams clawing to break free.

Dreaming is important
in and out of the sheets;
inhale the sea
and bring it back to me.
Please, don't go,
but if you do,
breathe me in and
take me too.

I feel everything in magnitude ten.
No, twenty. Thirty?
Here we go again.

This boat we are in strikes an ebb and flow far too often and it feels old.
A day in the past made of gold is too heavy for me to hold, anymore.
So as not to drown, let's let go, let's learn to swim.

There was a flame
slowly suffocating
until suddenly you blew it out
and now my dim heart
blends in with the dark
and I think it's worth talking about.

I'm a sinner, I'm a saint
but I'll tell you what I ain't
and that's letting you have my mind, too.

This time is for me, snipping away any of you.

Your words were grapefruit juice in a finger wound,
supposedly sweet but harsh too soon.

there's a tumbleweed ricocheting off the barren walls of my heart.
there's a tumbleweed rustling within the bleak walls of my brain.
I am breaking apart,
I am going insane,
No,
I simply am going.
I am going,
I am gone.

Give your time to a lady,
give your time to a gent.
The greatest gift you can give
is where your time is spent.

To say good-morning,
and to really mean it.
To say good day,
and feel it, too.
These are the things
I wish for myself,
but more so,
I wish for you.

Are you sure this isn't just a phase?*

Are you sure that the pain will ever fade?