i don't want to read your curious looks
your casual tones, or anything they hint of
i did that once, and look where it got me

i don't want to read your eyes
or the crinkles that come with them
forced happiness hurts both ends, you know

i don't want to read your sighs
castoff glances, held breaths
waiting for something neither of us can place

i don't want to read your anger
the clenching of fists and jaws and hearts
interfering only backfires on me

i don't want to read your absences
how you don't seem to care until you're back
but i always do

i don't want to read your glares
frustration through avoidance, that's what you do
this game's too foolish for me

i don't want to read your heart
it's not written in a language i'd understand
and such is for the better

i don't want to read your scars
i might remember who caused them
and wonder why that who still exists

i don't want to read your memories
they're not the same as mine
maybe they never were

And that's how you lose him,
Your ignorance,
Thinking it's bliss,
Your avoidance,
Thinking it's brave,
When he tries his best to make you
Smile,
Tell you it's alright to cry,
Make you believe you deserve,
Love,
Happiness,
And the whole world,
If he could, he would;

But that's how you lose him,
When you decide it's just a game,
Thinking he's another player,
Like the rest of them,
Even though they have different names,
And he's shown nothing but how he's not the same;

So that's how you lose him,
And you're the one to blame.

@byizn

I proposed the theory to you once that after a certain point we are the ones that lead ourselves down that dark path. Seeking out numbing blackness because we know that it's "safe".

I don't know whether or not you believed me.

But let me reiterate it again, for myself.
'cause I really need it right now.


The first time you find yourself in the dark void, you hate it. It hurts so bad. You just want to escape. You don't speak the language and nobody seems to be able to help you or understand because you can't articulate what is wrong.  

But bulimics, anorexics, and self mutilators know that you can get use to anything. They've learned that pain is subjective. You see, repeated exposure to painful and dark things breed familiarity and comfort. And even, briefly, a deep dark happiness. A childish sticking of the tongue at the world, a ******* and a ******* to all those that hurt you. "Ha ha" you say. "Do your worst. You can't hurt me as much as I do."

For me, submerging my soul into the darkness eventually became a soothing balm. Protection from the loss of happiness, disappointment, people letting me down, friends not answering their phones, husbands being jerks, not liking myself, not liking anyone around me. Happy and joy was too big a risk. Being hurt, hurt too bad. And I would pretend to pray, I say pretend because I didn't really want help. I wanted to wallow. I wanted justification for why it was ok for me to be there. I wanted to be able to say, "this is just who I am."

I am not minimizing pain, or the people who feel it. There are a million reasons for depression and sadness. And we even need some sadness. Grief, I'm told, is a necessary part to loss although I can't fathom why right now. Why must we feel pain? Why do we have to keep on experience wrenching and heart breaking loss day after day after the day when it happened. Why I can't I c'est la ******* vie and move on?

I think because the fear of loss of people, happiness, whatever it is we are afraid of losing, is debilitating if we don't face it. If we don't throw open the cage door to the tiger(figuratively), we'll never find out that it's the fear that keeping us (me) from experiencing life. Because life is pain, just as much as it is joy. And by trying to keep pain away we end up keeping the good **** too. And looking back, all the previous pain opened doors to helping others and helping myself. Perspective man, that one day there will be sun again. There will be light hear-ted moments not over shadowed by loss. And by acknowledging it's there, we can take back the power. Because letting people hurt us is often times our fault more than theirs. And when I stop focusing on myself I can see the hurt that my "aggressor" is feeling. We are the total sum of our experiences. And we have switches, and sometimes they get flipped.

I told you about my life changing moment. The last time I sat on my porch sobbing and asking God why. The moment my prayer changed to empowerment. The moment when I asked for help.

" God, never let me go there again.'

It's a muscle. We can't control what we feel. Sometimes we ARE sad. Sometimes we ARE hurt. Sometimes we ARE reeling from inexplicable pain and loss. And it's ok. It's ok to be sad, hurt, lonely, as long as we realize it's a temporary place, not a residence.

I told you,

I had to learn to run away from the dark well of perpetual sorrow. I had to learn the bad wasn't forever, and the good was only as far away as I let it be. Like a dream catcher in reverse. I had to let all of it hit me. The good, bad, ugly, sorrow, joy, and sunlight. I had to adsorb it all, and then release the bad, negative **** that I let consume me before and enjoy the good ****, knowing I will always find more. I've got to exercise that muscle, and find relief.  


And now more than ever,
today
tonight

I need to know there is the possibility that I will be me again, and have life again.

I need to know that your absence,
is not the end.

i sat with you in the dark
so i wouldn't have to see you looking
at me
for me
inside of me

because all i had
were echoes of (  ( ((you)) )  )
resonating (inside)
hiding from your look

when you left you said you loved me
maybe you do
somewhere (i(n(s(i)d)e)
your fear of yourself,
buried under avoidance
                               (love)
and behind bitten tongues
                                             (love)
and within the choking realization that you
                                                           (love)
are you

i sat with you in the dark
so you wouldn't have to see me looking
at you
near you
inside of you
where i wanted to be

because all you had
was the want to keep                      /// hidden,
holding yourself
like someone who doesn't need to be held

when you left you let me hold you
and you held me, too
(closer) than anyone had been
since you realized you
                             (love)
have you
               (love)
inside you
(love)
were i live,
too,
behind the fear

i sat with you in the dark
so you wouldn't have to see me cry
when you said you had to   l   e    a       v             e                      

because you always leave
when you find me
(inside) of you

(chorus)
I
know the reasons why
we're all fighting
for
power
and all of our lies
we try to cover up
inside
society's eyes
so we get distracted
now
from asking how
they rule us over

I can't take it any more
I can't take it any more
I can't take it any more
I...CAN'T...TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!!

We all want change
but it all stays the same
you still complain
without any action    
let's rearrange
the focus on pain
and turn it into the stage
entertain pure perception
You feel so cold
when you try to hold
on a grudge that beckons
more than you can mold
Don't be so bold
listen, what you're told
is the avoidance of question
what hearts behold_

I
know the reasons why
we're all fighting
for
power
and all of our lies
we try to cover up
inside
society's eyes
so we get distracted
now
from asking how
they rule us over

I can't take it any more
I can't take it any more
I can't take it any more
I...CAN'T...TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!!

Truth is *******
we drink from the roots enough
to pay for the words is wrong
call on the thirst's direction
so young in the hearts of the strong
is a reason that the blind move along
in a place that they built as rough
eating all of God's selection
could you tell me you know
that you are right in all you know
but the thing is you can't accept
that your will is hardly shown
say that you have grown
comfortable enough to live alone
but more is left unsaid on the edge
how can you call this home

I
know the reasons why
we're all fighting
for
power
and all of our lies
we try to cover up
inside
society's eyes
so we get distracted
now
from asking how
they rule us over

I can't take it any more
I can't take it any more
I can't take it any more
I...CAN'T...TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!!

Blotched botched
word failures spewing forth
from defective machinery
subtracted from
popularity conquests
showing youngbloods
how to write up
this tragedy thing right
Mouthless voiceless
shapeless formless
avoidance and mockery
creeping like carbon monoxide admissions scrawled out
in digitized assault
and crying out
What kind of democracy is this?
What kind of freedom is this?
When torn from those clutched
analytical political land mines
I have to ask  
Before revolutionary words are mistaken and reduced
to stripped inspirational drivel
adorning office drone strike stationery
What makes you think
your
words can hurt someone
who wants to ******
themself
daily?

16.**
What a small weight for the most important gas,
that is keeping us alive.
I was 16 when I realized that my mom
had forever been my biggest supporter.
I was 16 and I was still holding my fingers crossed behind my back,
hoping that Santa was real.

I'm the hidden meaning behind good reasons
that have paved the way toward bad choices.
For I have realized, sitting silently in the corner,
that we are all forced to realize our
own self destruction.

Like the building and the wrecking ball,
of which I am often both.

I am your overspoken words and unsaid thoughts.

I am not the beautiful bare trees in the winter,
but instead I am your poisonous dinner.

I am the passion behind tears
and the emotion behind screams.

I am the thoughts that keep you up at night,
and your cold, bare feet.

I resemble a constant string of avoidance and indecisiveness.

I am your dewy eyes and groggy voice at 7:30 in the morning.

I am nothing but a blinking statue.

I am 16 years worth of unanswered questions.

Yet in 16 years will all I be is
another 16 years older?

I am the epitome of drowning without water,
and not to spoil the ending for you,
but I still have 16 years worth of faith,
that everything will be okay.

I used to look at my walls,
thinking that was my writing.
But as time heals this heart
I see the words in your scrawl.

And when the monsters came
I thought it was my fault -
Like you said it was.
Me and my over-thinking, lingering.

But this darkness grows thin,
the truth seeps through,
like a weeping wound
from the folds of your heart.

All this time I was weak,
I tore myself apart.
Blind to the pieces
of your crumbling walls.

The monsters that come now,
Are from your Regrets
which haunt your soul,
staring through mirrored eyes.

Avoidance tears at our old wounds,
as you try to erase the intimacy shared.
Blanketing the memories in shadows,
so even the beauty twists into vulgarity.

If not for pain, I think life would be a grand mistake. It is the roadmap of my scars that I will follow to my life's destination. Without pain, there would be no growth. No change. No movement forward. Pain is what pushes us, what bends us and breaks us and molds us into what we are. It erodes our weaknesses, it tests our strengths. It riddles us with holes so that the winds of time don't blow us backwards, into mistakes we've already made. It burns us to the ground so that we can rise again, better. Not everyone is a phoenix. Not everyone gets up. I get that. But those who do live differently. Pain is what makes each moment a precious wound, an ache in our hearts, a treasure so unutterably valuable that we must grab hold of it, cherish it, that any departure from what we truly believe is right is a terrible crime, for we will never live that moment over again. Pain is what life is truly about. The feeling of it, the surviving of it, the avoidance of it, the overcoming of it, the attempt to forget it. Life revolves around pain. How much of it you've been dealt, and how you use yours. You bond with those who have suffered the same sorrows that you have. You seek out ways and people and moments that alleviate your suffering, whatever it may be. The fact that we can feel pain allows us to feel joy, to notice the little twinge in every happy moment that keeps it sweet, and lends it the necessary tension of something that will inevitably end. Pain is what it's all about. And once I accept mine, I thank those who caused me pain. Not because they were right to do so, not because I forgive them, but because I love who I am, and I have grown because I have suffered. Change isn't pretty. Change isn't slow and subtle, soft and sweet. Change is a lightning strike. Change is cataclysmic. An explosion, or implosion, of everything that you are. A wrecking ball to your mind and heart, an earthquake reducing the city of your soul to rubble. Change is meant to be deeply disturbing, deeply upsetting. (Yes, you're doing it right.) Because we do not tend to change unless something forces us. Change is the most agonizing thing you can go through. But as somebody I am quite fond of once said, "Ruin is a gift. Ruin is the road to transformation." The roadmap of my scars will take me where I need to go, and it may not be an easy way, but at the end I know I will find happiness.

tired so tired why can’t i just be a woman why can’t i just be comfortable with she why can’t i just be ok with “girl” why can’t i look at pictures with long hair and dresses and recognize a person why do i have to see my body  bare and uncovered and feel sick why can’t i say the words even to myself.

my identity is based around likeability and avoidance of change i can’t even say i am it’s all “i think” “i might” “maybe i’m” when i know ******* well that i am or at least what i sure am not
and the thought of requesting people to call me something different or even make a change known makes me want to hurl and i can never find the words or the courage so i must continue hearing even my closest friends go on using She and Girl and even the few who know even the only one who knows in person who has expressed full support and willingness to change who has loved me before and will not stop i am afraid to ask to use different words



am i so destined to suffer? will i face this fear and challenge for ever? will i ever be able to look at my chest and torso and not be filled with disgust and will i ever be able to loudly and proudly assert who i am? never have i been ashamed but will i ever allow myself to be Proud?

But is it really such a crime?
Avoidance, that is.
I wouldn't call it isolation,
nor anti-social behavior.

Perhaps I just enjoy the quiet
and the decrease in anxiety
a bit more
than mindless chatter
and having to worry about everything I say.

Please, darling,understand this one thing.
I'll avoid people quite often until my last breath.
Only under this circumstance shall I function semi-correctly.

(d.d.b)

"If you have a goal without a plan, then it's just a goal. Without a plan... you will have nothing."

Maybe if I just sit here,
everything will fall together.
The places I'm meant to travel to
will somehow find its way to me.

Or those jobs or colleges I'm supposed to apply to,
will come to me without a call.

Maybe if I just sit here,
people will fall in love with me.
I will meet the one and
we will fight and argue but will love
eachother unconditionally.

Or maybe the rain will suddenly
be a friend to swim with
instead of drowning me,
burning me to nothing.

Maybe if I just sit here,
I'll suddenly understand how to live.
Without procrastination or avoidance.
I'll live with Fire and love and
shake the world with my touch.

But it won't happen and that's the worst part of it all.
Life doesn't wait for you
and it doesn't care if you can catch up.
Sometimes your left walking
with chains wrapped around your ankles
and a rope dipped in acid around your neck.
But the thing is,
You need to keep going.

As *painful as it might be
to lift up your leg that one last time
over the most pathetic obstacle there is,
just do it.
Because as much as that pain
will reverberate down your spine,
shackling your very floorboards...
It will surprisingly be worth it in the end.

its weird where i see poetry these days.  like…theres a better way to say it than that.  but im always shocked to see poetry in a bucket of bone colored paint or in a mess around a dumpster or in the dryer lint.  i see it in your avoidance and in the jokes i’ve learned to make. i see it in scuffed boots and missing keys on a keyboard.  i still see it in celestial beings.  i still see it in the face of everyone i talk to.  but now i see it everywhere and its almost overwhelming but at the same time i’m glad.  because even the ******* things can be okay if you look at them right.

you walk past me
eyes down, swiftly
behind you follows a trail of shadow
aura of darkness, hatred, avoidance
once transparent, we were now faceless
as best friends we loved, lost
now strangers.

1.

dear feminism,
do i think of women
when i write to you?

why do i personify?

angry at an unjust world,
angry at injustice in ourselves,
have i been taught to fear you?
ignore inequity of fears?

or hide  
in the shadows of your salty curves
speaking soft with sycophantic tilt?

was this what mother meant,
portending talk of therapy
two decades in advance?

a bouy on three waves,
i crash against protuberances too:
limp didactics on avoidance for the victims,
waking in continuums of shrugging crime.

sameness differs in utopias --
every latent gut avers the right to spill.
despite the lissome quell forgetfulness contains,
my proper sphere will leave me
deafened in a wrack-dry
tidal echo--
'Fairness' stains clear beauty dark
as my imagined egos drown at last
from down our oceanic well of shame.

sacrifices fade,
i cannot write...
i write, and fail,
defined by sediment cliche,
reading women authors out of obligation ..odd desire,
and so in dim medieval-fashion
miss
the trail of monoliths erected
for a craven ease

2.

dear civil rights,
why were you taught
through prisms of boredom?
my voiceless reading left you to your rage,
while i communed with glossy nature,
private leaves.

how dare i clap your back
"congratulations"
at your tidy givens  granted
scars were open past my seeing,
and bleed still

while right here, empathy dies, now

dreams are bombed,
grafted to infected faculties
to wallow tended in a garden of injustice
erudite and dead,
i **** a bit i tell myself then stuff my face with food,
cover breath with smoke
and sleep in sour ignorance
no courage left to care.
blind grins bouquet the status quo
of rotted stems, discarded roots

i bury you with homeland fear
the killing silence filled with just intentions
for tomorrow

3.

dear feminism,
you speak for me, too--
my genderless ear attunes

cathartic sweep of ills
scaled beyond your other selves,
sexing into common chosen songs

no fearful tremble
at a mainstream backdrop reprimand--
to be a good gender,
--this gender not that gender--
gestate bigotry of symbol wombs,
cut ripe to cater to unquestioned whim;
no violent selfhood requisitioning
to closet inner innocence in pain

contractions shock in further waves
i midwife simple hope i hope
true fairness you have nursed in seeing death


4.

dear punk **** feminism,
marginal i ask as i perform
unstructured sutras on my heart
exemplar of a meta-freedom
burning in the core of threaded ages strung--
how then life without your voice,
vast silence unobserved,
the hidden anti-*** persisting
in our gender-theory--theorizing sterile norms--
sweet pulsing concupiscence
in our every waking breath
a pollinating zephyr tease toward
celebrating every feotal bathtub bliss --
unbridled ideologies unleashed
unmade into opining din

5.

dear temperance,
i vote you cherished
whirlwind
singing endless through the ageist ridicule
apparent failure in the civil warrior's eye
dogma blinks
denial of the rights you suffered for
but underneath compassion all along
i rally in your family's younger gaze
staring down,
questioning the steady rhythm of a whiskied fist

6.

dear feminism,
have i been taught to celebrate you?
have i been taught to fear for you?
have i been taught to treat you as a woman?
why do i personify you?
like some Sophia cybered up atop the forums of our age

blind and failing
i would be dust as well
like any rightful fading into dust
be swept along with all coercive screenings,
fear-born silences
immune to reason and the reasons of the heart--
rather than to live forgetting
letting go the questions giving rise to equals in a discourse
revising what it means to ask the meaning of


#
dear feminism,

when you are gone..
i for one will sing you
hope

to protest bigotry
a raging tranquil step
of care-filled voicing

dare an upward sloping arc
a dream becoming shared
to overcome
attain
inspired by once unfamiliar names

i will still be here,
the angry feminist
burning in my flagging underwear

brightest outrage at injustice
your deeper loves, fairness
selfhood honored
as if written in the stars
or ancient shorelines
-- you will not be gone

I regret
all the flowers I sent you
in my thoughts and I
regret every time
I acted like
a gentleman

every beast with long hair lies
I will be
forever lost in the stairwell
everything that thinks it’s
gentle is actually

cruel.

avoidance is my measure
I sing with razors
in my pocket, blooms
not for you
not for you

the cross trainer crossed me out

                                                      in favour of the

                                                               ­                   runner that I ran out on

(5/7/5/ syll count)
24th July 2012

If you were to ask me what boredom was, I’d tell you were boring and to stop asking stupid questions, but if you really persisted, I would tell you boredom is the tick tock on the white clock on the white wall of our English classroom.
it’s the thrill of seeing how many dried crackers you can cram into your mouth before your mouth becomes a cracked and dried desert. Boredom is
making up haikus,
Alone but not quite knowing,
How many syllables go on each line
Boredom is haikus.
Boredom is
the decapitation of innocent
grass blades as you listen to an unenthused sports teacher
the blood of your unwitting enemies splattered on your fingers.
Boredom is this boring poem


Now you were never one for boredom;
you enjoyed sitting on the grass, getting a soggy ***,
you enjoyed the crunch of crackers snapping on your tongue,
you really enjoyed
and I still do not know why
making up haikus
you enjoyed the long languorous spaces between lines...





and I guess that really was just you.
But recently the silence has been getting short its rudely interrupted
by forced laughs and nervous glances from eyes that recently went shopping


You jump at every crunch or crack, scared of well…
I don’t know .

And your poetry,
Well, you barely write anymore because you just can’t seem to muster up the energy and you’re just tired and its nothing to worry about and it doesn’t matter anyway because you have an English essay due tomorrow yeah-


And the grass misses your ***


And I miss you


And there’s someone in your place, a lethargic parody, too frightened to pick up the phone, frightened by nothing at all
There’s a black hole in the shape of a friend
hidden behind the comets of comedy and asteroids of avoidance there’s a small hole


I reach in… grasping for a hand,
I catch glimpses. tufts of hair. old coffee smiles
but… nothing
so, I try again

I reach in, grasping for a hand, or even a bone
I catch glimpses of skin, hair, teeth, bone. Nothing
and each time I throw myself into the silent abyss,
batter past the comets and asteroids and reach into that dark expanse I find less and less,
I miss you


I am right outside,
whenever you’re ready to,
we can talk a bit


I’m trying my best ,
and I really care for you ,
but haikus are dumb
accept it, it’s true.


The spot of grass is waiting right where you left off,
the crackers in the tin are there just waiting to be scoffed.
if ever in that silence
you feel yourself alone
just know that in my house,
you’ve found yourself a home.

Chances are priceless
missed takes are limitless
avoidance is countless
Like stop reading this and count less Opportunities you missed due to being scared of mistakes
more lines in this poetry than the ones you seen on a glass table
finger nails full of *******
brain seduced to love highs and avoid lows
running from life's heavy blows
took chances now drown in your consequence
white face, black lips, short tips, long dreams soon to be nightmares
mistakes will never know their true potential if you never make them
chances are hidden in mistakes so go ahead and embrace them
opportunities are golden but you are comfortable with rubies
scared to mess up so you look down and never face up
sleeping with nightmares afraid to wake up

Avoidance is the key when you smell that tenderness
Once it has been spotted you retrieve it
Or else the waves will take you under
Cold hands will feel your skin with a pure heart
You will be taken and held down till your eyes burn into the back of your skull
A feeling desired by many
A spark will ignite in you stomach that holds nothing but air
Your to sick to eat
A twinge that runs up and down chasing your blood away from your heart
Shaking will feel normal as you walk down the extended nightmare
A hand reached out & will pick your chin up
Then a leg will knock your knees right out from under you
And the only feeling left is falling
A net given to you by the universe will only catch your body
But your emotions will fall
You will be stuck in a never ending black hole filled with thoughts of him
A suffocation of his smell intoxicated your mind
Hung over with delicious thoughts that crazes your mind
A memory so glorious but only one such memory
And a never ending nightmare that has come true.

To love so deeply
To the marrow of our bones;
To have faith in people
You see as home;
Can leave one empty
In the greatest despair;
As if an old man, full of regret
In his rocking chair.
Wishing not to have loved,
But to be one in the same,
As the heartless *****
Whom played only games.
Not sure of anything
Enough to give all,
And harmed every suitor
Once brave enough to call.
Yes life started with another
Can change a man.
Or make him find himself
Gloriously stern and in command.
Never taking more ****.
Never giving a ****.
But now playing the game,
Creating his own luck.
Through will and determination
He'll have respect or they'll pay.
No longer willing to love
Those whom only wanna roll in the hay.
So **** them all,
With my brilliant mind, you see.
And destroy the face of one whom decides to be enemy.
I care not, anymore
About consequences or you.
You'll show some respect,
Or I'll take you to school;
Put you in your place,
The one you've always held.
As the ***** demons
I've committed to hell.
I'm in full control,
I'm capable, you see
To forget that I love you
And make you hurt as me.
I never wanted what you dished out,
But I've save a portion
To multiply and spit out
At you, at him
At the rest of the world
Whom would challenge my patience,
Whom will not honor word.
I'm sick of it all,
The lack of care and respect.
The avoidance of truth
The inability to reflect,
On oneself,
To know the harm
You continually cause others
Without alarm.
You'll learn your lesson,
I'll stand to say.
Or you find me teaching
Every ******* day.
Until you change
Until you've grown
To the place I once was
When I thought you my home.
But I am now as you.
That'll be your cross to bear.
I'll make certain
The next time you'll care.
You've escaped your consequences
From all, thus far.
Try me again
You'll feel all our scars
Heaved heftily upon you,
You lying ****.
You big tittied woman
Whom worships her ***.
There's more to you within
Bit you choose not to share,
But only take
Like all of me, as I sit in stare.
In reality, you took only the worthless;
You, my caring, the wish for you to stay.
Now I wish only respect
Without which, we may both pay.
But I've paid out.
You've hoarded the gold.
I have nothing to lose.
I'm dark, empty and cold.
Mad as hell
Is the rage beneath
That one wrong move
from you
Will release.
You'll find no pity.
I've given it all.
Left with nothing but desire
To see you fall.
Test me. Please do.
You'll see that I've change.
And I'll reflect only you.
A cold and heartless wonder
Of fright and of awe.
A train wreck awaiting
For you to hear the call
"ALL ABOARD!"

Again time passes
and after a while
you escape my waking thoughts
only to haunt my dreams

Your birthday comes around
as birthdays inevitably do
on their ever accelerating cycle
I send my greetings
because I can't resist
we agree how much we've missed
being in touch
that without each other
something's lacking

We go back to regular texts
about our respective lives
I want to say that if we try again
I want your consent to take control
flexibly and without high protocol
to work toward some switching
but that there are things on which I'd insist

Like regular voice contact
because lack of that
was something that dented my trust

Like a commitment to meet
with a date in mind
or at least a date
by when a date must be arranged

Like being able to hold you to things
to answers you don't avoid
and questions you don't evade

Like being able to hold you

But it becomes clear that
none of these will be on offer
you're not returning to your castle
because you say
your Second Life is over

I wonder why in that case
you still pay to keep it there
empty save for an abandoned dog
whose pitiful barking
brings me to tears

Yet once again I bite my tongue
because even this friendship
this new phase
is fragile and on your terms alone
I hold back and accept what you grant
because anything however small
is better than nothing at all

You offer advice with my fitness
and we make a good start
but your promise of more advice
fails to materialise
often you're too busy to talk at all
you're even busier than before

I'm pleased your career has progressed
though puzzled how this happened
in a job you said wasn't you
that more responsibility
wasn't something you'd consider

I'm pleased you're fitting in
charity work too
that working on your fitness
brings you satisfaction

Yet I'm aware that these things
leave you no time for me
or for the desires
that I know still burn within

I wonder if this commitment
of time and consciousness
isn't perhaps a distraction
just another avoidance strategy

Then the crunch comes
I'm upset, shaken
tell you of my pain
any friend would show sympathy
give hugs, even though virtual

But not you
there are worse things you say
as though their existence
invalidates my feelings

I call you on this
and that's it for you
you "can't say the right thing"
but it was never about saying
what I wanted to hear
(was it that for you?)
I'd prefer you said
what you truly feel
and that your actions
followed from that
but now that's easier said
because we're over

Cynthia Pauline Jones, March 2013

They see me alone all the time.
They wonder, they judge, and they criticize.
They worry, give in, and think they are the ones I am to rely.
But they must know
I am just fine.
Who do I bother? Why do they care?
I feel so
confident, independent, contempt and strong.
I go out into the world alone
I do nothing wrong.
To them, that is a DARE.
I'm alive, I'm here,
I have self-security, I have no fear.
Though a butterfly must travel alone
to find the right place
and to settle and roam.
Then they may not be friends,
but saying hi is always worth a try.
I have not died.
I live in a way that is a concern,
but when they see what I can do, they learn.
How independence is gifted
from the heart.
Avoidance is a move
that can be very smart.
They see I show up,
in shock,
let them be.
I'm alive is what they get
by the presence of me.
Everyday and the future
is not going anywhere.
Because now,
I'm alive.
I must  be productive and wise.
I'll do what I want,
and if I'm alone, I'll do it.
I'll go.
So I dare.

It took me 18 months
Of unanswered phone calls
And careful avoidance
To get over you

It took me 18 seconds
Of staring at your smile
To realize
That I never got over you

To whoever he chooses to love next,
Hold onto him tightly.
Play with his hair,
Fall in love with his dog.
Let him fall asleep on your chest,
Even if you realize the t.v. remote is out of reach and you're stuck watching reruns of old shows.

Learn to at least give a shot to his interests,
If you don't share all of them.
Magic, music, and dnd are his biggest hobbies,
I can't tell you whether or not boy scouts will continue to consume a good chunk of his life,
But if you've the chance, go watch this areas Mic-o-say tribe dance.

Love him with every bone in your body,
And hold him when he cries.
Shush him gently,
Remind him that no matter what his anxiety twists up,
He will eventually be okay.
Remind him that his loved ones are always with him.

Go and listen to him play or sing whenever you can,
Support him at as many competitions and concerts and shows as possible.
Never let his love for music fade away.

Bond with him over it,
Discuss a plan for switching off radio privileges.
Sing with him in the car,
Because even if you think you sound like trash,
Chances are he'll give you constructive criticism while reminding you that even with a mishap,
You will always sound beautiful to him. In tune or not.

Take him on adventures,
But also spend a good amount of time at home-
He's a taurus, after all.

If you go to his moms facebook page,
And even a few of the youth leaders, if you ever meet them at Westside,
You can find adorable pictures of him growing up.

Truth be told, he'll probably someday mention how he used to have braces.
It's not that important of a piece of information,
But it's something to look forward to in those younger pictures.
They made him seem extra nerdy,
In a really cute way.

Again, I remind you, love him.
Love him with absolutely everything and then some.
Love him even if he ever yells at you about not opening up if you have troubles with it,
Love him if he rushes over to you if he has the chance if you're feeling too unsteady on your own.

Let him hold you while you cry,
Teach him what calms you down while you're in the right headspace and he will always remember.
He used to tap my hand in 4/4 time so I could sync my breathing,
Just as an example.

Let him remind you that he's probably a bit more stubborn than you think,
Because even if he's going through hell,
If he truly loves you he will do anything he can to avoid hurting you,
Until the avoidance hurts you more than anything.

But I warn you,
Don't believe all of his promises.
If he says he wants to be there forever-
Unless he's graduated college and is finally settled down in his job field,
Don't fully believe it.

He means no harm by it, but when it comes to love like this he is so young and unexperienced.
If you can, guide him along.

If you, by some strange existance of happening,
Come across this,
And you think I'm just someone crazy…

I was, in his own words, his first real relationship.
And for me, he was the first boy I ever trusted fully,
Outside of my best friend, Kyle.
He was the first boy I truly ever fell deep in love with.

I have learned all of this from seven months,
Seven months of us clicking like puzzle pieces until it all fell apart,
Until I finally couldn't take the questions of whether or not he fully,
Truly, truly wanted to be with me.

To be fair- even with my lack of knowledge on why,
Knowing of his mental illness and the stress from everything he was trying to accomplish at the end of our relationship,
I can't fully blame him for shutting me out anymore.
For, chances are, just being too overwhelmed with trying to balance too much personal life,
With too much work life.

And after the breakup, and until I moved away from him,
I will admit I was.. Rude.
Distasteful.
Very, very angry.

I was angry at him.
I was angry at the world.
I was angry at the situations-
But most of all,
I was angry at me.

I will not hide that,
While I could go and apologize,
Tell him I'll possibly see him on campus if I ever get accepted into his- and my dream- college.

And truth be told I just want to look him in the eyes,
And say, for the first and last time with this meaning,
"Always."

Always…
Always will love you.
Always will support you.
Always will keep our memories together cherished.
Always will remember.

I will always remember,
My dear girl,
The happiness he gave me.

And I will always hope
That he can pass that happiness onto you.

He is a goofball.
He is loving.
He is so, so kind,
And usually very patient.

His best subject is math.
His two favourite go-to, warm weather outfits are either a polo and khaki shorts,
Or a tshirt and gym shorts.

He will wear long sleeved shirts with shorts.
I've seen it so many times.
He only wears jeans when it's warm if he absolutely has to.
His humor is either crude, cracking dad jokes,
Or mocking your whining.

His friend Josh may very well get close to you, too.
Josh is a good man. Do not take his company for granted.
He can offer valuable insight to his best friends brain.
They work very, very similarly.

His hogwarts house is slytherin,
He's allergic to cats,
and after going down to as much as I could see on his moms facebook page a few months into us dating,
I can even tell you his entire natal chart for zodiacs.

Even if he doesn't believe in that hippy dippy ****,
He will amuse you enough to listen to you talk about it if you are.

Send him cute little pictures. Whenever you feel cute, send him one.
He will lavish you with attention.
He will call you gorgeous and beautiful and every other sweet name under the book.

He will love you like no man has ever loved you because he is still so new to this.

My dear,
Love him enough for the both of us.
I beg of you.

I lost him completely already,
I've honestly not even a chance to eber reconcile the friendship with him.
And I have come to terms with that,
I have come to terms with the deep seated love that will remain in my heart for eternity.
So please,
Love him. For me, for you, for him.