Every day the cards were played
Everyday you lost
I won.
Every day you’d come back
With declarations of future success,
And when proved false you’d smile,
All lopsided and sheepish,
With a “next time perhaps”
And now your gone.
And next time won’t come.
I guess I won after all.
You always said
I was a queen of diamonds
But my dear,
You were the Ace of hearts.

Ragged breaths
Dilated eyes
The sweet truth
The hazy lie
Breathy laughter
Loving the high
Sensual embrace
As I chase
After you
Addicted
through and through

.
.
.
.
.
.
Can you hear it?
This sweet and sorrowful serenade?
This melody of melancholy.
•
•
•
•
•
•
Of course you can’t,
How selfishly presumptuous of me.
To assume you see the solitude I see
Day after day
.
.
.
.
.
.

We all tell woes Of shattered things.
Scattered dreams and pretty things.
All tangled up in endless string.

A string of letters,
Of words and lines
Mixed with emotions
and beauty and lies

Stories of girls broken inside,
Of boys with more blood to dry.
Of Secrets and lies hidden away
Of adults trying to make it just one more day.

Some are well told
Others a jumble of string
Yet in them all one uniting thing.

The audience.

Ah yes, those brave souls, willing to read.
To read the rambling of broken things.
Of flickering poets crying to be heard.
Of lost souls with pathways blurred.

So gather all your tangled string
And join in the cacophony of broken things
As we spin around this shattered ring
I ask you of one simple thing...

Do you smear yourself in ink and pain,
Just for the number of readers you'll gain?
Or is it an art to be admired?
Something to live on long after we expire?

No, if that's true I'm afraid
you've got it all twisted,
its not for the audience that poetry existed.
It's for the poet, tangled in string,
It gives them a chance to create the whole thing.

A world where no one chooses what goes
Save for the poet who truly knows.
The reason to write, To fight and bleed,
Is because we all long to be tangled in string

although age in and of itself
does not declare experience
or the depth of knowledge one has gained
and in my opinion is silly for anyone
to think otherwise
I'm always told
"your so wise for one so young."
Or
"oh I remember what it was like to be 19
and think you know the world."
Yet what they refuse to acknowledge
is that in 19 short years,
I may have experienced both
horrors and beauty
that they have yet to dream let alone see.
Who is to say that age is a boundary of the mind?
That inexperience creates an age divide?
Who are they to claim that we would be consumed
when they have yet to wander in our beaten old shoes?
Who are they to judge me of a story
they have yet to hear?
All becuse they refuse to lend an ear?

'Why is it so painful to grow?'

A seed.
Just a seed buried under the ground.
Under the pressure of the soil,
It fights to grow.

The seed cracks,
such a sturdy little seed,
opens with a painful snap.

A sprout coils out.
Out of the cracked little seed.
A sprout now crushed under,
Under the pressure of the unforgiving ground.

Yet still... It grows.

A little sprout,
Now reaches up.
Up and away from the little seed,
and up to the light of the sun.

Pushing and groaning it bursts out.
Out from the unforgiving ground.
Yet now new dangers are to be found.

Will it be trampled
Or eaten alive?
The possibilities are endless,
The ways it could die.

And still.. it grows.

The sprout toils endlessly,
always stretching and growing
Reaching for the crimson sun.

The rain falls down
beating upon the sprout.
Pelting it's skin and whipping it about.
It skin hardens painfully,
and sprout becomes stem.

And still It grows.
The stem keeps reaching,
Stretching to the sky.

The stem then splits
It rips in two a bud appears
A little bud,
With so much to do.

Then the bud breaks
A crack appears
a petal unfurls from within.

Then it's a bloom.
Such a sweet little thing.
Until the crack stretches
So the bloom can grow
In to the beautiful rose
We've all come to know.

And still.. it grows.

Thorns burst free
Breaking out of the stem
And petals billow and grow in the breeze.

Then you see me,
And my beauty delights you,
So you wish to see me every day.
And your scissors encircle me
To give you your way.

They cut me in half.
They slice me in two.
being a rose,
There was naught I could do.

You carry me with you,
Your hands coated in my blood,
I'm dying slowly,
All for your love.

And now... I can't grow.

So as I bleed and wither in pain,
You place me in a vase
Or press me in a book,
All to save the bloom for another day.

And as I gasp for air,
Among your dry pages,
You leech me of all life,
Perfectly preserved
just so I could last the ages.

Or else I am drowning
In glass and water
My beauty wasted
hour by hour
Day by day
All to satisfy your whimsical ways.

And now all I wish to know,
'Why is it so painful to grow?'

tis a sad day indeed when family turns to strangers.
when you look into the face that you have loved for years
and only see uncertainty and distance.
you know what I'm talking about....
when you dress up for their visits.
and worry what they think.
where stiff conversations
and insincere smiles dwell.

what happened?

I cannot remember a time with out you...
yet I find my self unsure as to how to spell your name.
I cannot remember our last laugh.
not these pretentious giggles
but cheek burning, tummy clutching, eyes tearing laughter.
I cant clearly see your face. hear your voice.
I cant remember your catch phrases. your jokes.

What happened?

I know not your friends, nor where you sleep at night.
what has caused this heart wrenching chasm to form?
I have loved you!
Where are you?
I have fought, kicked and screamed with and for you,
who do you fight for now?
What severed these bonds we swore would never brake?

What happened?

was it me?
was I not there?
did I send you away?
Oh the heart breaking pain...
I would do anything for you,
even now,
although I know not the person you have become.
I would die for you.
and I do... a little more each day.
would you do the same?

What happened?

why did you leave me?
I am your sister, your blood,
yet you are no where in sight.
I miss you..... oh God I miss you.

What happened?

tell me and i will fix it.
I swear i will,
because, dear sister i miss you
so much that  it hurts.
I wake up at night
and I wounder, are you still alive?
If so then why do i feel so empty.

tis a sad day when your name falls from my lips
and sounds clumsy. as if it didn't belong.
I miss you...
What happened to you?
to our bond?
was it I who did you wrong?

You say that I’ve changed,
I’m simply not the same.
A stranger that stole
Your little sisters face.
What a disgrace,
To be so misplaced.
But tell me dear siblings,
How would you know?
You never see me.
I have bent over backwards
All for you.
My “loving” family,
I have broken my heart
Again and again
On the cold steel of your eyes.
I have choked on the storm
Of your torrent of lies.
I have cut myself open
And poured my blood all over
the razor whip of your cruel words.
I have cried for you
I have died  inside for you
And when you were jealous,
because I could fly
I let you tear off my wings
And chain me to the ground.
Because I was told your love
Had to be earned
I did everything you asked of me.
I gave you my everything
And then a little more
Only to hear you demand for more.
Your eyes stayed cold
And words cut deeper still
I froze from your gaze
And collapsed from the blood loss
And you were insulted
And as you broke me
You laughed when you snapped me in two
Then left me behind,
As you always do.
You expect me to take the pain
And rise once more
On trembling limbs
To trail on after you
So you can break me some more.
You demand I be there should you have the need
To always be willing to let you watch me bleed.
And yet you claim that It is I,
Who has changed,
That I am simply not the same.
A stranger that stole
Your little sisters face.
And as I lay bleeding
I realized you were leeching
The life from my soul
And I felt the betrayal swallow me whole
I gasp for air,
Running out of breath
From the noose of expectations
You’ve tied round my neck.

The false crisendo of your words
Grate against my every nerves.
Wandering round
With ****** feet
How many expectations
Have I failed to meet?

What more do you want
Of my sorry soul
When I cannot bring
My self to breath anymore?

So I watch your hopes
all tumbling down
It feels quite cold
Down here in the ground.
I'm sorry that I wasn't enough
I tried to be what you asked of me
But I didnt think it'd be So tough.

My weary bones creak and ache,
My wrist all burned and ******,
Can you not be quite just once for my sake?

I understand the gravity.
I know Im failing at life,
But you dig right in,
spreading the cavity,
How to ignore the strife?

Whispered arguments bleed through the walls
How much longer until we fall?
Through the floor straight down to hell
All because I could not tell.

Should I weep in pain,
And slave away,
To satisfy you're whimsical ways?
Should I sell my soul,
And bite my tongue,
Just to keep the wallet full?
But "your so young,
You've no excuse,
So bend your back,
Put those hands to use."

Welcome to life.
Put away your pain,
No time for strife,
No time for play,
Just nod you head,
Exit the stage,
And get a job,
So you'll be payed.

I'd sooner live a poor church mouse,
Then lose myself in persute of a house.
But no, I'll smile my candy grin,
And talk with sugar sweet.
Hide the weight of the pain,
So your expectations, I'll meet.

A chance

All that I ask for is a chance
A chance to meet and not divide
We’ve played this game,
Time and again
And throughout it all
we still remained friends
But to write off someone
based on what you lack
Is a sorry thing
that you have a knack
Of repeating again and again.
I’m not begging for you
to be chummy ole pals
Only I plead for you to meet
without a judgmental scowl.
Though a childish endeavor
I know it to be,
For once I just wish
You could see what I see.
With out the taint of jealousy.

You stick us all together
And declare we are the same
As if we all don’t have a different
Tolerance to pain

Boiling blood,
Dagger eyes.
Hateful mind,
Both cruel and sly.

Brave façade,
Daunting lies.
You look to me,
"Its time to die."

I hear you,
And watch
you scream
And plea.
Yet its not anger
That i see,
Only...

Aching muscles,
Tired eyes.
A weary heart,
A mournful sigh.

"Hush my child,
Its not time yet.
If you do this now,
There's much you'll regret."

Shallow breaths,
Teary eyes.
Shaking hands,
You sob and cry.

"Can't you see?"
Again you plea..
"Its time to die.
Nothing left for me."

I look on,
And I feel your sorrow.
A broken heart,
With no hope for tomorrow

"Be calm my child,
Just look around.
With a bit of effort
Happiness can be found."

"You don't understand!
How can you know?
Who are you to decide
When I'm ready to go?"

Bleeding smiles,
Plastic masks.
Hidden scars,
You've gone too far.

"Be careful my child,
Or you will be consumed
And then there will be
Nothing more I can do."

Sun kissed smiles,
Moon burnt laughs.
Bright future,
Dark past.

Wedding bells,
Pure love.
White shells,
Caged dove.

Sticky hands,
Tiny feet.
Sloppy kisses,
Hearts complete.

Weary smiles,
Wizened eyes.
Snow kissed hair,
You've grown wise.

Calmly you stand,
Before me once again.
With a full heart,
A long life.
With Faded scars,
And smile lines.
I hear you repeat,
A long lost line,
With a sad smile,
"Its time to die"

I greet you,
Arms open wide,
Embraced in me
You quietly die.
And as you fade,
I hear you say...
"Thank you,
For helping me
Hold on til today."

Scattered memories float past my fingertips collecting like dust upon the stars.

I find your words to be empty.
Much like collectible ornate journals
lined up on a shelf.
Stunning to behold.
Carrying the weight of so much
promise and potential,
but of no substance.
I find myself choking
on the dust between
the pages of words
you never mean.

Dear Reader,
they say that life is loud.
That it's noise deafens us and dulls our senses.
that it is all just..... too much

But you see, dear reader, I... disagree
I think that life is absolutely quiet,
and I think that the silence bothers people.
Because, much to the disagreement of others,
silence is so terribly loud

within the quiet hides
all that we are,
all that we hope to be,
and all that we fear.
monsters thrive in the silence
because there is nothing to
drown them out
no escape.
Just you and your own mind.

I believe that Hell
is cold and quiet.
That it is like snow muffled steps
echoing in our souls forever.
The frigid silence is inescapable

It seeps into your very bones
and fills your head
until all you can hear
is the smooth cold laughter
of your demons
as they delight in your numb isolation

I believe that this hell
is already here
and it fills our lives

Think about it,
the world shattering
as the silence of your worthless life
echos through your core.

Yes,
it is the silence that frightens us.
The things that the silence reveals in our souls.
As it uncovers the monsters that lurk
in the dark shadows of the mirror before you.
It forces you to face
every flaw.

So please,
I beg of you,
scream with me.
cut me open
and bleed with me
so I can escape this all encompassing silence.

You feel like fire to me.
All warm and beautiful
With the ability to
Burn
Me
Alive
Mesmerizing to behold
As you dance around with a
glittering spark in your eyes
As you always seem to
Draw
Me
In
And entice me to dance with you.
So beautiful in your destruction
With the ability to burn away the darkest of nights.

I feel so foggy
Limbs feel heavy
Thoughts feel thick
Eyelids stick
I don’t feel sick
So it must be ok..
No matter the way
Self medicate
To placate
This morbid mirror
This demonic fear

And
      In
         That
               Moment
                            She
                                  Was
                          ­              Consumed
                                                       And
                                              There
            ­                           Was
                           Nothing
                  More
                I
      Could
Do

I am not your number one
And that is ok
I have accepted this
As my fate
Inescapable
You see,

I...
will never come first.

And that’s ok.

When I tell you I love you more than anything,
You will never reply the same.

And that’s ok.

I will never be your first

And that’s ok

It’s ok.
It’s ok.
It’s ok.

Her smile will forever make you day

And that’s ok
(I wouldn’t love you as much as I do if it didn’t anyway)

She is your purpose for living

And that’s ok
(I wouldn’t love you as much as I do if she wasn’t anyway)

Her laugh is your most precious thing

And that’s ok
(I wouldn’t love you as much as I do if it wasn’t anyway)

It’s ok.
It’s ok.
It’s ok.

She will always be your brightest sun

And that’s ok

She will always be the first

And that’s ok

I will never even be the fourth

And that’s ok

It’s ok.
It’s ok.
It’s ok.

It really is.
I swear to god that it’s ok
I love you all the more for it
And I wouldn’t have it any other way

But at night....

When loneliness seeps into my bones

And monsters hiss into my ears


Reminding me that I am not your first
That I... have never been anyone’s first and most important person


That I have never deserved it

And that I will never even be your fourth.

And that’s ok.

It’s ok.
It’s ok.
It’s ok.

But at night...


With loneliness bleeding through my soul.

I can’t help but wonder...

What it would be like.

To at least once


be first
To someone
To anyone

Because I have never been anybody’s number one.

Never been put first

Not even by myself.

And I never will be.



And that’s ok.


It’s ok.
It’s ok.
It’s ok.

Because when the sun is out.
I love you all the more for it
I don’t regret it.
I do not envy it.
I love you all the more for it

And it’s all truly ok.

It’s ok
It’s ok
It’s ok

But at night


With loneliness swallowing me whole

I can’t help but wonder

Why I

Will never

Be enough


To ever

Be first


Or even

Simply fourth.

Days flit by
like a
Drip
Drip
Drip
Drop

As If watching a leaky faucet
In a plugged sink
The drops are slow to build
Weighted down by their own mass
As they reach a point where gravity
can no longer be surpassed,
To a
Drip
Drip
Drip
Drop

As they fall into the basin
scattering ripples
And splattering droplets
As they fall
Gathering light in a glittering bowl
As the next drop slowly begins to flow
By the
Drip
Drip
Drip
Drop

But once you’re attention is pulled
And the visual is no longer there
Only a sound heard
Consistent tempo filling the air
Seeming to speed
where eyes can’t see
And the budding drops
fall carelessly
With a
Drip
Drip
Drip
Drop

before you know it the basin is filled
With the drops cascading
beyond ones will
And the ripples now
scatter to waves against the brim
Caving to gravities endless whim
As a
Drip
Drip
Drip
Drop

Once you notice, it’s far too late
The marble is shimmering
with streams and ponds
As it tallies the fee of water wasted
So too does time slip from the basin
And the coins we pay
exchanged with age
To a
Drip
Drip
Drip
Drop

Before you know it
time has come to a stop
along with both
the drip
and the drop

I have this tightness in my chest
The anxiety swallows me whole
An overwhelming sense of unrest
As I wonder what I did to cause the pull
The pull away from me
I did something wrong I can feel it
But the mistake I cannot see
What
Did
I
Do?
What hurt you?
I will wait for your reply
But this anxiety is causing
the worst sorta high

“What is the reason, I wonder?
What could possibly be the cause?
For her to evoke such a response of antiphon?
I find myself forgetting. Failing to recall
what it was like to ever be without her.
Finding all other plans to be forgone,
in favor of chasing after her.
As she sings her feather dusted song,
The entirety of whole world
seems to be strung along.
What a perplexing existence,
yet I cannot help but to be enthralled.
Perchance this is what it means to be swept away at the whims of the squall.”

I always bother you
though I never try.
I hate the tears
but I cant keep from the cry.
you are everywhere I can never find
everywhere
but by my side
and its pathetic,
I  know it is

and yet...
I cant keep the panic at bay

and still....
anxiety steals my words before i can say

i m i s s y o u

i l o v e y o u

w i l l y o u s t i l l r e t u r n

w i l l i e v e r l e a r n

w i l l y o u l o v e m e i f i d o
    
w i l l y o u l o v e m e i f i d o n o t

My dearest mother




















do you see it?
that's the space put between us,
filled with unspoken words and heartache.










can you hear it?
that's the defining silence,
filled with quiet disappointment and shattered dreams,
because I'm not the girl you hoped I'd be...

I often smoke these days
to fill my lungs
and **** the flowers
I once planted there for you.
I often get high these days
on the freedom I find
in my new life without you.

Let me tell you a story.
A Human is walking through woods, where he stops under a tree and gives a sullen sigh. When a beautiful maiden calls from among the leaf leaden branches above,
"Whatever's the matter?"
The Man looks up, startled to see the fair lady in the tree and as she climbs down to stand before him he tells her of his sorrow. His friend was leaving him, to a land very far from where they now stood. the maiden states that many people are often in search of living a life different from the one they are currently leading and asks what else is bothering him.
He states that he's.... lost.
"You spend your whole life looking up at the moon, terrified that you are wasting your life away."
She says, and he agrees.
"Then why not go out and live the life you dream of living?"
He searches for an answer but cannot find one, save for the fact that he feels stuck.
"You are only stuck if you wish to be."
Getting irritated by her wise answers, he asks what life she would lead. The maiden looks up at the many trees towering above them, her eyes watching the light dance with the leaves as she answers,
"I would want to travel, to breathe."
The man states the wishing to breathe is an odd desire indeed. She just kept looking up at the sky as she continued,
"All of these trees are working tirelessly day and night to give us air to breathe. I would make sure that each and every breath had meaning. That with every intake of air carried the taste of adventure and every breath out holds a memory with it. I would try my hardest to ensure that I did not let a single breath go to waste. We all spend so much time ensnared in our small world, dreaming of something more beyond what we know, but refusing to go and seek it out. I wish to not merely exist, but to LIVE."
The man asks why she doesn't heed her own advice,
"Alas," she sighs,
"I am a Tree nymph and cannot move beyond the roots buried deep within the earth, or the tree will die, and I, with it."
Suddenly filled with pity for the beautiful nymph he states that he may know of a spell that could release her from her binds to the tree and allow her to pursue her desire. she then shakes her head and with a small, sad smile, she tells him she could never do such a thing. When he asks why she says
"I have spent my whole life caring for this tree, we are entwined together. To leave it in pursuit of my own dreams, would be leaving it to die. this I cannot do."
The man shakes his head, confused.
"It is simply a tree," he states "there are thousands more just like it."
"Ah," she says, wishing for a way to further explain herself,
"This is not just any tree. Somewhere out there, there is someone relying on this tree to breathe so that they may live their lives to the fullest they can. Weather it be a small child learning to walk and explore this beautiful land for the first time, or may it be an elder who has lived a long life, with many stories to tell, they are relying on this tree and to take it away so that I may go about life the way I dream, would be a selfish thing indeed."
Touched by her selfless sacrifice the man exclaims that it was hardly fair, that so many people remain wasting their lives away within their paper worlds settling for existing due to laziness and fear, while others, are dreaming of the freedom to actually live while imprisoned by their sacrifices.
"Is their no other way?"
He questions, but the maiden shakes her head.
"Well is there any way I can help?"
Her eyes light up and she smiles. A smile that is as warm and bright as the summer sun.
"Why yes, there is. you can go and live your life to the fullest you possibly can, because, you too, are relying on somebody's sacrifice to be free to live. So don't waste it, and when you have aged and grow weary, with snow kissed hair and wizened eyes, share your stories with those who follow. Share your sorrows and your triumphs, and all that lie in between. Start your story here, on the day your sorrows have lead you here, to the Nymph who dreams to live, inspire them to do the same and then I will know that my sacrifice has not been in vain."

One
Oh what fun this has become.
Two
So much life in me and you!
Three
So this is what it means to be free?
Four
Maybe one more behind closed doors....
Five
I can't quit, without it I don't feel alive...
Six
"You need to stop, your addicted and soon it'll be too late to fix"
Seven
"Do you wish to die? Because we both know that's where your headed."
Eight
More then just pills, they are an escape. An escape from all this depression and hate.
Nine
You've changed, you've taken it too far. How could you be so blind?
Ten
The monitor goes silent, your heart stops it's beat, never to start again.

genius comes in fragments
poetry comes in slivers of sentences
open to all
yet mastered by none
merely mortals weaving a web
a web of words
of truths and lies
of things made plain
and things we hide
and as we navigate this artful web
we realize just how much we are out of our depth

Do you have what it takes?
Is it burning inside?
A warriors heart,
a leaders mind?
Now is the time, lead the way.
Ride off to battle, seize the day.
They look to you, your spotlight shines,
so push on through, test your lines.

You've got what it takes,
I see it inside;
a warrior's passion,
a leader's pride.
you've got the heart, you've got the soul,
you've got the will, so take control.
Don't ever break, don't you dare walk away.
finish what you've started, seize the day.

You've got the skills,
they lay inside;
a warrior's dedication,
a leader's determination.
you've got nothing to lose, step up to the plate.
Fight in the battle, before its too late.

Though lose, you may,
the chance still stands,
to lead with victory's upper hand.
to fight your way, and in the end,
to seize the day.

There is a forest,
Under the sea,
To which I desperately
Long to see.