She is the girl I made out with in the Hawk's nest in college.
She is the girl who I fell in love with.
She is the girl who I can't stop thinking ever since I met her after the SGA interviews.
She is the girl who comforted me when no one else would.
She is the girl who changed me for the better.
She is the girl who wanted my life to be only mine.
She is the girl who is my vocal witness.

Have you ever heard the wings of a Phoenix burning in the cold?
Have you ever heard the rain come down steaming every drop on her face?
Have you ever heard the Phoenix sing rebirth songs in the cold son?
Have you ever seen the bird a blaze, flying with the sun.

Flying with the sun
Flying with the sun

Have you seen the ashes of her wake?
As she is due to rise again.
Have you seen the way she brings life back into a man's dying eyes?
Have you ever seen the phenomenon she makes just cause your in her life?

I called off to a man once who taught me about her ideals of love.

Asked for her name and when will the time come?

He said her name isn't for all to share but look into the flame,
the circle above.

Her Love rises and sets the same, now forever for everyone.

Her love is the only thing to remain.

Have you ever heard the wings of a Phoenix breaking sound?
You can hear her way, like the beating of a thousand drums.
Have you ever heard of a day a Phoenix doesn't return strong?

I cried out to the man, how long must I wait?
I have done all I can and patience isn't my strength.
The man gripped me with his sight shaking coal and brimstone from the sky.

He said 20 years or more and that could be more than a lifetime.
He said 20 years or more and that could be more than a lifetime.

Have you ever seen the blaze of a burning bird at night?
Have you ever seen her flame, can you imagine it could subside?
Let's cut the power before the day breaks and throw ashes into the wind and see her rise,
and fly one last time.  

And fly one last time.

A name as powerful as my own. The girl who stole my pride, broke my heart and took my virginity. She drove me mad and read all of my poetry from my journals and notebooks. I didn't mind. She had me at we how gazed at each other.
She wanted me for my charm, talent and heart. She used to sleep with me in my bed to comfort me on my worst nights. She made me the legend of my hometown. She did research on my past and loved me.
She was my muse. I forgive her, I just don't forget. She called a day ago. Telling me that I was never an ******* to her, that I was her best lover out of all of her girlfriends, that I should update my voicemail and that she hopes that I live a happy life with her older sister. Also that she misses me. I still miss her and I don't regret anything. I knew I recognized those blue eyes from somewhere its genic.
She is in a psychiatric hospital right now. I never knew how insecure she felt about her own voice until I heard her have a meltdown on my phone. I want to visit her but I don't know where she is. Deep down I know she is my best friend and I don't know maybe it the fact that made me feel wild without doing anything. She touched my heart so she is worth it. I know that I just hope she does too. She is still human. She is still my girl even with all that madness.

In college I fell for Chelsie. We met on a sunny day after the SGA interviews. At Black Hawk, Jana the student leader organizer of SGA said I got into this spin off of SGA. Eventually while I was in Writer's Guild I became vice president then joined SGA. I perfected everything I could.
Since I was too afraid to go back to SGA, I got to pick who was in the support system and a wooden gavel. I still don't know why. I may be a good judge of character but my mental illnesses make me disabled.
I got a vocal witness which is her. I don't know why she still cares about me so much. According to my psychiatrist's assistant I am autistic. So that's new.

I know referencing Tessa Violet sounds cliche' but each day I get inspired to write poetry. The only reason why I am not ******* Tessa Violet because she is my friend and I know it sounds weird.
I enjoy my platonic relationships. I know not a huge surprise considering you know me Chelsie. I would rather be friends with my favorite musicians than you know do that.
Whatever Ken said about me isn't true. He hates everyone including liberal bisexuals who know what the hell they are talking about.
His puppy dog eyes aren't worth a damaged pen. I was repulsed by him and his political views. If I could turn back time I would have walked back into the SGA office instead of avoiding you.
Ken made it sound like you hated my guts and told me we were sisters. Even though being medicated and sane enough to vote, I can honestly say, "You could have just talked to me. I would have talked back to you." He gas-lighted me and lied to me for months. You never did any of that. Driving me insane is one thing but emotional abuse is another. There is a difference.

Didn't say this then saying this now:
I love you too my Lena Luthor.
I will always be your Supergirl.
You were my first queer love and I am glad you told your parents about us.
I would be nothing but a lovesick lunatic if you didn't give that love confession last year.
You inspired me to be a better poet.
You inspired me to sing my heart out.
Didn't say this then saying this now:
I want us to be friends again. One of these days. Some part of me will always love you Chelsie!

Socializing, talking and communicating.
Notifying the bosses about my gig in the art walk.
It felt like being in Home E.C. again the kitchen meeting.
Just as exhausting as Home E.C. too.
Church is tomorrow and I am not mentally prepared.
I think my church will want to excommunicate me after I give my poetry reading because I am not holding anything back.
I am already seen as insane and unholy because I had *** with Chelsie. I can express myself however I want as long as it doesn't hurt anyone. Critiquing isn't same as saying outright that hey this church need more queers.

In college I loved SGA, Writer's Guild and my gay friends.
Ken was determined to isolate me from everything and everyone I cared about. He thought if it was just him and I then I would care about him more. Or that I would randomly fall in love with him which never happened. He thought if I hated Chelsie then I would love him which didn't happened. My heart told me something was up but I didn't trust myself with all of Ken's mixed signals.
I was confused about him. I was thinking at the time, "If he tells me he loves me but still hurts my emotions without regard to my boundaries then he doesn't love me at all." Somehow I still stayed around. I want to go back to college. I miss SGA and Writer's Guild.
I still talk to my gay friends because they are amazing people.
I think without Ken I will actually be able to get my degree in the Associates in the Arts.

Chelsie wanted to pressure me into having video *** with her. Of course I refused because her older sister told me at the library that she didn't recognize any of them. As many naked pictures she sent of herself to me, I refused because I knew something wasn't right about her. There was church bells going off in my gut telling something was wrong with her. No matter how turned on I was I couldn't lose her.
I refused despite what I remembered of her.
I just did what I wanted someone to do for me if I went into psychosis again. Then again when I went into psychosis I read every book in my room and wrote gibberish from my audio hallucinations into my journals. I got lucky I guess. Good thing I used my calming methods from when I was eleven when I got panic attacks a lot.

I have to choose between Chelsie and The Mystery Girl.
Two sisters alike in destiny and love.
Now I know how Hamilton felt with Eliza and Angelica.
I have a type. How do I choose between my first queer love and the girl I met a few months ago? I don't know what the right decision is.
Normally I let my heart decide and now even my heart is confused.

I don't give access to many because the few I have in my life is enough. I hide behind my words because my actions confuse a lot of people. Politics in SGA ran high it was like walking into the lions den on purpose. I got tangled into the politics even more so when I slept with Chelsie then dramatics spread like wildfire. People wanted to think for me. People spread rumors about me. I got so many curious glances from people I didn't know. Once the fact I lost my virginity got out to the public, it went through my college and ended up in my small town.
I don't give access to many because when I express myself I don't know what to say. When I think it's jumbled like earphones. I don't where many of them come from. It's like sorting clothes, some are old, some are new and most of them are random.
I don't give access to many because radio silence make me feel bored. I have to listen to something to think clearly.