Heyo, I think I'm officially moving my poetry-world to http://www.rooftopsentiments.tumblr.com. I'll check in here now and again, but Tumblr is primary now.
Thanks for the chill vibes and positive encouragement, this site has been really good to me.
Keep writing, guys.
-Taylor

You ruin everything
By reading it aloud

I don't fancy the idea of belonging to someone
Always frowned at love songs saying "you're mine"
But on cold nights like this
When I've been alone all day and all my life
I'd be yours
I'd fall into you, give myself to you, lose my mind
To feel your lips on mine

Because I'm getting so tired with each setting sun
Of telling myself it's alright
Of singing my half-hearted lullaby
And knowing I belong to no one

The life I have is a quiet one
Full of footsteps down hallways and bottlecapped streets
Waking up to a glaring winter sun
Rooftop sentiments spelled out on college-ruled sheets

Some days, I am content with solitude
Others wreck me with frenzy and fear
Some days, I am plagued by fanciful moods
Others console me with deadbeat cheer

Waiting for walls with memories scrawled
Saying good night to the sun
It's not what I imagined when my name was called
But the life I have is a quiet one

I think that I might be;
does that mean I am?

Sleep well in the sun, my London love
I count the days 'til I hear your voice
You hate the way they push and shove
But smile like you have a choice

Don't go in the black, my lonely child
You won't find solace there
I know your mind must be running wild
But stay and breathe the air

Find me in the crowd, my ghostly star
I'm not brave enough to call your name
You wouldn't hear from worlds so far
And I'm too tired to play this game

Be good to yourself, my never friend
Take shelter when clouds threaten your skies
Don't let them hurt you in ways that won't mend
I can't stand the lost look in your eyes

Run free with your brothers, my laughing sun
Know that you light up the earth
I pray that you won't be an unlucky gun
'Cause you're firing with all that you're worth

Safe travels in the moonlight, my London love
I spend sleepless nights dreaming of you
You hate the things you can't rise above
But laugh like they're nothing to you

That girl is the sun
Her eyes lit on fire
Giving us strength and lifting us higher

Your skin glows when she beams and announces the day
Stone shackles melt when she smiles your way

That girl is the sun
Shrieking into the sea
Opening our eyes and setting us free

That girl is the sun
Burning from within
Lighting us up and forgiving our sins

Your lungs race when she roars and readies to rise
Fear shrinks like a shadow when she stretches and shines

That girl is the sun
She was made to inspire
Your world spins madly 'round all you desire

My memories of last summer are dark
Not because they are sad, or lonely
But because we turned the lights off
We focused on senses other than sight
We turned the lights off in order to taste
To taste the Chinese take-out we drove home through the setting sun
To taste the ice cream eaten with plastic spoons in flashes of moonlight
We turned the lights off in order to hear
To hear the television's twists and tracks
To hear our own stories and voices raised in jesting rage
To hear laughter
Laughter
I can still hear our giggles and shouts, feel them in the decades-old couch where we lived
I remember those days in low light and summer shadows
And I would not change them for the world

But next summer
Next summer will be all about the light
Sunlight streaming through car windows and fighting past designer shades
Sunlight reflecting and glaring from every surface
Warming our skin as we sing our summer songs and drive
An open road for an open heart
Skirts flowing in the breeze as we walk in a daze
California crossroads and seaside streets
Lit up and shining almost as bright as our smiles
We might not taste the coffee or hear the ocean roar
But we will see things we have never seen
A summer of sights
And I would not change them for the world

It no longer needs to be said.
The words "I miss you" have gone back and forth between us so many times in so few days that the sentiment is fully understood. I miss you. You miss me. We are alone and separate and distant and all the terrible things we never wanted to be, and we know, we are painfully aware, but we repeat it, everyday, through lonely screens and tired fingertips.
"I miss you." It is our new hello.
Every time my world brightens with these words from you, my heart breaks, and I smile. I stop to think of all the suns that rose and fell when I was with you. I sigh in the darkness and try to conjure up your eyes in my mind, but I never could look at you long enough to tell what color they are. I know they are dark, and that they shine the brightest when you drop a clever retort over your shoulder. I write back, "I miss you too."
I don't want to miss you anymore; I want one of us to get on a plane and I want to see you on my couch again. I want to hug you for the second time and talk about how long it's been. I want to hand you the remote and let you flip between our favorite channels and listen to you tell the boring stories we always teased you for. I want to tell you how no one has ever supported me or understood me the way that you do. I want us to play schoolyard games and travel the world and stay up all night. I want to tell you how you wrecked my life when you walked into it, how you took me under your wing and rearranged every part of me, how you sang to me songs I'd never heard, taught me to speak words I'd never spoken, and made me feel safer and stronger than I'd ever known I could feel.
But I am frightened, still, and I shrink into myself as a shadow when the sun rises; you are a star if ever there was a star, and I am a moon at best. You have given me light and warmth and I have absorbed it, consumed it, and given nothing back but my admiration. I cannot touch you, cannot stare too long. I cannot speak; what would the night say to the day?
You say that you miss me, and I wonder how you see me in your mind, if you know the color of my eyes, if you know when they shine the brightest. You say that you miss me, and I wonder if you mean it in the way that I do when I echo the phrase back to you, because I say that I miss you, but in my heart I do not only miss, but love.

Skipping class to sway to Sinatra
And read poetry with a romantic's heart

I reach for my own pen, inspired
Curl up in the sunlight
Words stutter out

And stay
Stay on the page
Not reaching for the stars or the moon
Not leaping from this cage
I will never make my dreams come true
Now even sure what I dream of anymore
What's worth wishing for?

Stay
Stay in my room
With a locked door and sweaters swallowing up
Cold skin and frantic moods
I will never cross paths with you
At this rate, nor in fact with anyone
Who's worth an open door?

Why bother hoping for more?

We play a dangerous game
Tossing hypotheticals into the air
And if we catch them, if we dare
Who's to say that it would be a shame

First Saturday night was a lonely one
My heart rate slowed and died on a ***** sofa in a ***** basement
There was a hole in the ceiling
Through it I could see the hope and anticipiation of my first Saturday spirit vanishing
The man in plaid brought the house down
To an uncomfortable, stricken silence
And the girl who sang Smile cried
By the end of it all I was sad
An open mic is a dangerous thing, he said
I did not speak a single word
Walking down and out I felt like the world had failed
Or maybe what I got was all I deserved
What good am I, anyway?
There was a throbbing in my head so I swayed
From the pavement to the doors
I fell in love with the boy at Dunkin' Donuts
He said he liked my hair
And told me to get a second donut
Because it would be cheaper
His Saturday spirit behind a counter
Offered me a smile and some kindness
And now I'm staring down two donuts
On my first Saturday night
Feeling a little better
About the world I deserve

Homesick or just sick
Unsettled by the clock's tick
Thinking of posters on my wall, of furry paws in my face
Longing for familiar footsteps in the hall, for discussions of grace
I want fangs and feuds and cutthroat nights
Not to look over my shoulder between homebound lights
Homebound, not for months and seasons
I want to call but I have no reason
Even my imagination left some things behind
They lived at home though I thought they lived in my mind
Now I feel truly alone
But who wants to hear untroubled youth moan?
Not sick for home but sick for my friends
An empty ache I don't think time can mend
And I won't feel better locked in this new room
Knowing I'll be gone when hometown flowers bloom
December, holidays, so far from home
For a frightened foolish freshman who wanted to roam
Afraid to move forward and out
Terrified whispers and tears masked by shouts
Same album plays again and again
Hoping some peace will find its way in
Maybe
If I just take the clock off the wall
Time would stop, or go back, and we'd forget it all
Tie our highway hopes tight with small road ropes
And collegiate walks back to high school talks
Could I dream
Awake
Alone
With you
I know it's true
But I can't imagine that you're lonely too

Thank you, haunted angel
In leather, in the sea

Thank you for the softness
For moonlight in the sun
For starlight through the darkest darks
Of thoughts and songs unsung

Thank you, gentle soul
In heaven, in our hearts

Thank you for the beauty
For truth in all the haze
For shadows gone by scattered light
Of love and life ablaze

I used to play with toys, making boxcars crawl
Now I play with words until footsteps sound from the hall
Come to greet me, see what's there
Seven feet of cold despair
Six pack of soda, six seconds of looking at the birds
Then he goes, and I turn up the noise and turn back to my words
But my thoughts are jumbled and lost
Like French fries at the bottom of the bag
Fingers crossed
That the leafy green atop the grease will prolong my playful days
Not for Bambi or Snow White, but for all the different ways
That I can place my words and save them
Like the lifeguard guards a life
That I may find a voice to raise them
Like the hunter lifts a knife
Because words are cherished playthings
Which fly on paper wings
Until I'm called away and the words must go to sleep
I'l write them here so they may be your very own to keep

You cannot fight a void
Yet I swing at smoke and air
Angry words are stuttering back
The echo is like an attack
But I try and I jump and I fly
I turn false ground into sky
A new world below the things that we know
Scratch the surface with flurries of ink
But I think and I stop and I sink
As the oxygen permeates my skin
And turns so velvety cold
The sky is no longer dry
And I am no longer bold
But I write and I hold and I fight
On and on, the endless night
On and on, the useless song
And the abyss is singing along
The voice of the void is dark with joy
I am the shadow's favorite toy
Cast these words into an empty sea
These words are nothing to me

The look in your eyes
When you knew you had to die
The tears that we cried
When the time came for goodbyes

He tried to burn your bones but he couldn't drop the match
He tried to close your coffin but he couldn't click the latch

Because your name was called
And you didn't fight at all
You stood, scared but tall
And then you let yourself fall

Now he lives with the pain and it burns his heart away
Now he carries the guilt and his mind begins to fray

For if the latch had clicked and the match had dropped
Still your suffering would not have been stopped

The peace you were promised
The rest you were owed
They lurk in the mist
At the end of a long road

We will curse and we will cry and we will hold our breath
While we wait on the angels to raise you from death

I am not ever myself
I live many lives from day to day
Some now rest on a crooked shelf
With nothing else to say

Others exists only in my mind
I pick them up from time to time
Their stories only vaguely outlined
With supporting characters poorly designed

Many live but briefly, between two and three
After waking up, before falling asleep
Some from other worlds, some stronger than me
But all too bright for reality to keep

At the gate of the mind Anxiety stands guard
Heavy boots, heavy gun
Sweating from the sun

Approaching from the darkness is a child called Sleep
Soft eyes, soft skin
Hoping to get in

Sleep smiles meekly but Anxiety shakes his head
Not yet, not tonight
And he locks the gate tight

I see shapes in the clouds
Like angels falling, forsaken
I never thought much of them until you spread your wings wide
You opened my eyes to the skies, though they oft look downward still

I love you with something sick and hollow
Though you’re distant like the clouds
And false like the angels

As we drive the shifting white becomes stretched and sullied
Those angels I lose as they lost me
But I carry you with me in a twisted, lonely embrace
In my arms though you belong in the sky

I prayed for the sole of my new red boots
They're frayed, with strings hanging like ripped up roots

I bought them at a thrift store, God,
And the left sole's simply missin'
I prayed my very hardest
But God just didn't listen

I don't blame him, nor should you
After all, it's just a shoe

I love the world for its imperfection
The record for its skips
The map for its misdirection
The faucet for its drips

I love the universe for its flaws
The window for its cracks
The kitten for his scratching claws
My life for all it lacks

In an angular hall built up forty feet tall
We defied a silent world with sound
And the stories we called broke down tiny walls
As they crumbled, we flew from the ground

In a bright open space with no chemical waste
We pushed our dreams with pride
And the light on our face seemed to be full of grace
As we unleashed what we had kept inside

In spite of these years, my hands shake from fear
We becomes me, bit by bit
And through my tears, I shake hands with fear
As I lie on the fire I have lit

In this innocent hell shaped like a citadel
I become silent in a world of my own
And the stories I tell are never as well
As they seem when I am alone

The wind is getting faster, warmer
And the trees have gone green overnight
Watch the shrinking shadows as the clouds release sunlight
Hear the breathless chatter of a countdown summer

My brothers will throw paper onto orange flame
That crackles beneath laughter of the best kind
My sisters will cry in a Hollywood sigh
That things will never be the same

Among answers and exits that I never cared to find
The days are melting through red brick shields
Hear the big band blare through snow cone fields
Watch my father pack his bags, watch my mother lose her mind

A common thread pulls me far from home
My blue walls dissolve into boxes, then curious loss
Left with thoughts of the miles and borders to cross
To larger trees and longer roads to roam

Will my brothers burn the nights away as they do now?
Will my sisters be braver and sharper somehow?
Will the blinding white tapestry unravel to offer another thread
Or will the warm wind and shadows be this time full of dread?

The wind is growing harsh and cool
And the trees have turned black without a fight
Watch the staggering sky as the shadow overtakes the light
Hear the wistful worries of a countdown fool

My boots chased each other down a staircase
That led me straight to you
It was obvious, from the map in your hands
That you didn't have a clue

Our eyes met
My pace slowed

I saw a budding smile in your gaze
As you stood and waited
It was obvious, a soul in quiet distress
Waiting to be aided

I walked on
Your face fell

My boots questioned each other across the floor
And ever since that day
Lost stranger, you are my biggest regret
Did you ever find your way?

He said boring, safe.

He said 9 to 5, nothing brave.

Well, he’s got it in his head that he’s special, he’s a rebel

‘cause he’s only 17 but the walls are lined with bottles,

‘cause he’s only a kid but he shreds and he’s bled

like the best of the living, breathing, plastic models

under lights like lines and smoke like signs.

Alternative *******, kicks convention like a stone

on a dodgy, moonlit road laced with beaten brick and bone.

But I walked that street with your own two trees--
shivered in the neon glow—

and you’re just a hammock swinging between them, same as me—

I know you know.

We were thrown into the forest, stood together, two by two,

and if you’d dragged me into the shadowy thicket right along with you,
invited me out grasping at poison with your avenging leeches—

maybe I’m not so unfulfilled as you’d like to believe when you’re giving speeches,
strumming and shaking above me, so proud to break away.

Alternative *******, look this way.

I listen to the *** Pistols, jack.

I wear leather.

I text in class.

I sneak trinkets on the side,

under the table, on my mother’s unwitting dime.

Last week I put *** in my pineapple juice because no one else was home.

I write on the walls, I run in the halls

with scissors, with a smirk.

I chase ice cream trucks, I blow off homework.

Don’t you scoff at Metallica, call it an old man’s band.

Cats are badass, son, mine will tear up your hands.
And the garbage on your T-shirt wouldn’t be around to fuel your *******

if Metallica hadn’t taken the stage and taken the hits.

So when you come to town after the laughs fill a decade,

and you want to reunite so the memories don’t fade,

I’ll meet you for drinks sometime after five,

and I’ll go home in time to wake up before nine.

And you better listen close when I tell you how happy I am,

how I work alright 40/7, saying yes sir and no ma’am.

And maybe I drop acid under a bridge between F and M,

splash the city walls and bathroom stalls

with expletives and half-brained philosophy on a whim.

Or maybe I hug a homemade quilt and wait for the clock to tilt

while some ****** sitcom grasps at humor under oath.

And maybe I do both,

and maybe I’m smiling either way.

I’ll tell you this in tumbling words and phrases from our old days,

and then I’ll tap a finger on my soda, safe as houses,

houses like the twin towers that we came from, weighing ounces,

and I’ll ask about you.

And I swear on my 9 to 5 life that I hope you’re smiling too
when you tell me how the band is doing great, playing shows,

how the records fly like spinning pizza pie

in grimy downtown windows.

And when you go home into the stars and you pick up your guitar,

I hope you remember an earlier night, no matter how distant it seems,

that syrupy discourse when I gave you dollars for dreams

and you thanked me with words like boring, safe, because of some one-day preferences.

I hope you realize that I can smile through acid and expletives

just as well and true as I can smile at quilts and clocks,

so don’t put me in a box.


My happiness doesn’t need your special stamp of alternative approval.

My notebook is running out of pages

It’s wrinkled, torn, in its final stages

I wish I’d been more thoughtful

I wish I’d been more careful

With what messy, scribbled words
I’ve written down over the ages

But I’ve written what was present in my mind at the time

And to do anything else would be something of a crime

I’ve pushed aside more “important” things

To run my pen down the metal rings

That bind the sheets of paper as I try to find the phrase

To describe my thoughts in such a way that someday will amaze

High school students as they sit in lamplight in their friendly cage

In their hands they’ll hold my soul on a freshly printed page

That is just the starting stage of a bright and brand new age