Maybe some day we will dance
Holding hands in disbelief
As tears of joy
flow from our eyes
While the field of flowers
will cheer in salute
Maybe our eternity
will come to an end
And our day will come
to begin . . . just maybe

Just maybe I hope
beyond my dreams

I want to tell him
that I’m scared,
that I’ve been here before.
And that the last time I felt potential like this it imploded;
I imploded.
But I don’t want to taint it,
You see I’m still hopeful
That maybe this time
Won’t end up laced with maybes,
Or what ifs,
Or open wounds pouring blood onto paper.
That maybe this time,
just won’t end.

I’ve not quite worked out whether I think it’s beautiful,
Or stupid -
The human capacity,
And pliancy,
And longing,
For love.

She is, quite thoroughly, a mess.
You knew this, you know this.
And she comes back now
Like a drowned rat.
All maybes and I dunnos
And not a hint of why.
She’s just a disaster.

You were ten, just a child
In the scouts, newly moved.
You’d no one
No one save her, the wild child
Always causing a fuss,
Always making a row,
But you had her.
Even if she was a disaster.

There was a fight,
You were poked fun at by…
What was her name?
Sally? Sally, yes.
That Sally Walkens poked and prodded.
She laughed and pushed you.
You fell, fell right over
Off that rock, and you cried
Because you were fighting about…
What was the fight about?
And there she was
Your knight in shining armor, the disaster.

Sally went off the rock
Right into the river, not the floor.
Screaming, pleading, shouting,
Floating and drifting by so fast,
And she stood triumphant
Arms raised, howling “Justice! Justice!”
And for that moment she was so cool.
Even if it was all a disaster.

You laughed at it,
Standing up and feeling safe,
Feeling wanted. Here was a friend.
Here was a good person,
Even when she was scolded,
Held inside by the mother,
Badges stripped away,
There was a good person.
But now you know it.
Know that Sally could’ve died
And that’d be a disaster.

Now she is back and you know
Still know as you did,
Know so much more now,
Just what a mess she is.
What a mess she was, always.
But for one moment
Back when you were a child
Standing on that rock, shouting
Shouting for you
She was a hero,
She was your disaster.

And she still is.

I shake and people worry
I pretend I'm normal and okay
but inside I'm dead  
and while I have my normal mask on
they treat me like I am a person
not some depressed, psychopath
when I am normal to them
they hug me and this feels like ants
they touch my shoulder i shutter
it all fuels my anxiety
my leg begins to shake
my mind begins to race
I hear every noise in the crowed
it fuels it from
the sniffle to
the bobby pin that fell out of her hair
the world is so loud  
the words in the world come to me so negatively
maybes gives me no hope  
when people tell me I'm alright
**** when I tell myself I'm okay and I'm not
laughter makes me want to give up  on every thing
its the one thing I would give the world to do again
is real laughter
a smile that is not fake
because I know that I'm broken
when people think I'm normal it scares me
and i don't know how normal people do it

The monotony of adolescence is a laughable oxymoron.
My mom keeps saying to me,
"Caitlin, you're in a state of flux. Just wait."
Little does she know
I'm waiting for anything
to ebb.
Flow.
Twinge.
Any lurch of impulse of life
in this constant static lullaby.

Maybe I'm just itching to slough off my skin of content
and breathe in a fresh new disposition.
Become intoxicated in the maybes,
and the possibly's.
Embracing the oh-wells
and the never-enough-times.
Eschewing the feeling of everything I've missed
by having it near.
Having him here.

Getting trapped in the crinkles of his smile
and the freckles on his shoulders
that navigate me to the spots I feel most comfy.
Losing regard for the world as I become transfixed
in us
and our patterns on his couch.

Tumble into elation.
Quirks transpire the me's and you's
into the us's and we's.

To think... I was so scared to hold his hand.
Not knowing at the time
how great his waffles would taste
after a night of holding him.

I fell out of time
into wavery scarves of seconds
glittering of snowflake anticipation, and
minutes of quiet purring joy.
Tonguing thickening clouds of breathsteam
he has always been a familiar stranger;
every joint is a champagne cork, white
marble smile that bubbled

over wooden lips. Tell a story
in ten words or less, tap fingers pointed like guns
twice against her hot temple, smile
and half a tooth still ******. Tell a story with one
word, bang, and sock away the other nine.
Turn to a cat and say, I’ve got your tongue.
We sat together on our heels in the smoke
and snowfall, the plumed weapon of breath

melting. Cars slide into the lot, ice over easy.
The alcohol tasted like soap. It is not enough
for maybes and not-know-hows---grating
cheepcheap common sense, fail me now.

Maybe you didn’t write LOVE on her
battered wrist but LIVE instead,
maybe you stole all the magnetic a’s
off the fridge, you’re not the one
who highlighted instructions on a macaroni
box, so you broke all the chalk and wrote
the name of your childhood dog above the sink.

Maybe “hostile” is a fuzzed blue comforter
three months past laundry day, every lint
ball sharp as the word “cut”, the word “*****”,
the word “scream”. Maybe I’m naive, sentimental, but
I believe in a common kindness
like the common cold running thin
in threads of worn-out heart chambers.

We all have done something
That we feel bad about
That we feel sorry about
That we regret the most.
We all have done something
That we don’t wanna do again
That we don’t wanna see happen again
That we regret the most.
We all have looked back
On our actions
And we have decided
That what we have done
Have harmed our images
In the eyes of our friends and our peers.
Don’t live in the past.
Don’t yearn to live in the future.
Don’t look back on your past events.
Don’t look back on your past experiences.
Don’t plan for the future.
Don’t prepare for what ifs.
Don’t prepare for maybes.
Live with no regrets.
Don’t get mad at what you have done.
Don’t get mad at what you could’ve done.
Don’t get mad at what you would’ve done.
Don’t get sad at what you messed up on.
Don’t get sad at what you didn’t get to do.
Don’t get sad at what you have caused.
Live with no regrets.
Use these bad experiences
Use these bad events
As fuel for what you want to do now.
Focus on what you will do this morning.
Focus on what you will do this afternoon.
Focus on what you will do this evening.
Don’t look back.
Don’t look forward.
Live in the present times.
Live your life with no regrets.

Sometimes the summer comes, sometimes the summer goes
Sometimes the heat beats down upon your cheeks and they turn to rose
And sometimes lying on the grass under a tree is all we need
Summer days and flowers hiding in the greenery

Sometimes the spring does bring news of warmer days to come
Dripping dew from rain that came before the rising sun
The rain that came on full blue moon and made raindrops look like stars
Falling from a sky as black as the street leading to lands afar

Sometimes that falling leaves of autumn creates carpets to walk upon
Bringing early tiding of colder days like beams to the coming dawn
The colors blending in a stirring wind that brings you closer to me
So that my arms might not feel as barren as the leafless trees

Sometimes the winter comes and chills the very bone
Blankets of white pushing us together within our cottage home
And the seasons come and go like clockwork, unpredictable as they come and fade
But my love, my hold, and my time with you will remain constant through the days

Lumbago ought be a flower,
but it ain't.
Goldfish could have shoulders,
but they don't.
Death should have meaning
and my windows need cleaning
by the missus - but I know-
she just -- won't.

We live in a world
Where people have doubts
About what their governments are doing
About what they will be doing
About their health and well-being
We live in a world
Where trust isn’t a right
It is something we all want
But we can never have
We live in a world
Where we fight in endless wars
To see which nation is the strongest
And which nation is the weakest
We live in a world
Where people are crying from pain
People are suffering from hunger
Little children are without parents
We live in a world
Where little children have no food
Where they have no toys
Where they have no hope
Of living the lives of normal children
We live in a world
Where discrimination
Where racism
Where hatred rule our lives
We live in a world
Full of what ifs and maybes
Full of doubts of what the future holds
Full of fear of we have done
To cause all these problems
We live in a world
Where we hide ourselves from ourselves
We hide our true identities as nations
We hide our true identities as people
We hide our true identities from the world
We live in a world
Where we fear for our lives
Because bombs are bursting everywhere
Because we live our lives in our shadows
This is the world that we live in
And it’s time to break free
Break free from the chains
That is holding us down
Break free from the world that we live in

> if the world was ending of course I’d tell you I loved you, I loved you with all of my heart, so much that I couldn’t bear to tell you because even if you loved me a little (i know you do but do you?) I would’ve run into your arms, I’d be happy for a thousand lives over, of course
> and maybe I would tell you that I was never able to think about the love I had for you in the present tense, I loved you and I will love you but I do not love you, if it’s in the past or in the future it’s less of a part of me and that is okay
> if the world was ending maybe I’d tell you that I could never decipher whether the love I had for you was platonic or romantic or something in between and that sometimes I wondered if I only held onto the feelings so I could write more poetry
> maybe I’d admit that I wrote the most beautiful words for you, that sometimes even my own words evoked tears in the corners of my eyes because such a crude emotion was poured into that writing
> maybe I would tell you that recently i wasn’t able to think of you apart from love
> and maybe I would tell you that apart from staying awake at night and seeing you in my dreams I wouldn’t admit that you lived in my heart
> maybe i would tell you that i couldn't look at your face for too long because what if i ended up staring at you and (worse) what if i ended up gazing at you, that would not be good
> if the world was ending i'd reveal that the only way i kept a lid on my feelings was limiting how i felt to 'maybes' and 'what ifs', anything more was embarrassing
> maybe i'd tell you that you're my soulmate and i've never met anyone more alike to me who could at the same time be so different
> and so i'd probably admit i think i love you in a friend way but i've never had a friend that i couldn't bear to let go as much as you
i would tell you that you're my person, and i wouldn't care if i was yours
     > (though right now i really hope i am, probably because the world is not ending; everything changes when there will be no tomorrow, everything changes when all we have is the past)
> i would tell you that i've rarely experienced such an intense emotion, much less for a friend, i would tell you that there's something different about you (is there something different about me?) that makes me dread the day that we part
     > i would tell you how much i feared that we would drift apart, if i could i would hold your hand and never let go (would you let me or would you pull away?)

When it’s too early to sleep but too late to cry
And everyone else but you seems to care when it’s appropriate to do either
The skin just above your lips tastes of salt
Your nostrils and skull under the same pressure
Clogged with mucus and doubt, both trying to escape
Can’t seem to get out
So it sits there building up until you draw in
swallowing
Mucus, doubt, confusion, all absorbed into your body, filling the empty spaces from the last time you cried
You drift off to sleep, and pray the sheets are not drenched with the leaking mess when you awake in the early afternoon.


I wonder if you know how much that song affected me
I know I called you and told you how timely it was, that text in the middle of talking to Tiana
Lauren? Lauren. So out-of-the-blue, it was like you knew.
Still, I wonder if you know just how much it assisted my decision...
How I walked for hours wandering Brooklyn listening to that song on repeat hoping for a sign
How my world stopped when I first heard it
How I kept it from anyone who might have needed it because I thought I needed its magic all to myself.
I thought that song would give me an answer. Maybe it did.
I might have known the answer from day one. Sometimes I feel like I did, and I just didn't know how to handle it.

All it really takes is one line and I’m in
In like
In lust
In love
"I’d rather you give up on life in the city then give up on life too."
The connection convinced me it’s mine because I understand
And no one else
But that city chews up and spits out more people than downloads of that song
I don’t know that for sure but I bet it’s true.
Still, when I heard that line and a few others before it, I felt it was God singing them to me
This could have been because I was looking for a sign. It could have fit so perfectly into my situation because I am not different at all in this aspect of my life; a lot of people go through this (and possibly even the band, resulting in the song itself)
I haven’t listened to it since I left
And right now, I’m thinking that’s a good thing.


Call it selfish, delusional, illogical,
Call it what you want but sometimes
Like I told Laureen in the St. George dorm
Sometimes, a lot of the time, I believe
The world revolves around me
Isn’t that normal though?
Everyone’s view of the world is through their eyes
So their life is, well, them.
Maybe it’s bad to think my life will be a movie or a book one day
Maybe everyone thinks that, or maybe not
Maybe I’m a narcissist.
No. I’m too fragile. I’m too caring. I’m too understanding.
Wow, I might as well have said, I’m just too great to be a narcissist.
Haha, got a laugh in, that’s good.  


Alison wrote me a letter the night before she left
And gave it to me that morning, standing on the concrete sidewalk outside our building
100 Henry Street. Room 336
The hostility I had been feeling for months vanished, replaced with too many emotions to decipher but guilt leading strong
Her letter may not have been three pages long
It may not have been written with multi-colored sharpie markers
It may not have been as visually pleasing as mine
But it was perfect. And she was the only one who wrote me back.
I read it when I need to, which is probably too often.
One line.
"To be honest Haley, you are very ******* yourself and sometimes you simply cannot make a choice and I want you to remember to keep breathing."
One line.
And more than one tear.
Every single ******* time.

Maybe because it’s true.
The second I read it, I realized she was right
While all year I loved to prove her wrong
Alison, congratulations, you’re right.

But you’re also wrong (see you can’t win)
It’s not that easy to keep breathing when your
Nose is filled with mucus and your head is packed with confusion
And your nostrils are stuffed with the leaking confusing from your head
It’s not so easy to keep breathing, then again you didn’t say it would be
But it’s not so easy to keep breathing when you don’t even care if you stop.

i.
A ventriloquist
When we were one
Putting words in my mouth
I didn’t mind

ii.
A mad ventriloquist
When we were some
Somedays, What Ifs and Maybes

Camo clad ventriloquist
A kid with a gun
We shared a sugar sack baby

iii.
Tired, sad ventriloquist
Even when we had fun
You spoke of days long after

Such a bad ventriloquist
When we were almost done
Mismatched lips, silence, and forced laughter

He doesn’t deserve all the power he has
Yet he remains my
Puppetmaster

I saw you at the bus stop yesterday,

I didn’t have the chance to even say,

That you looked the same as you did last year,

Instead I just turned and dried my tears,

At the boy who didn’t even recognise me,

I’m the girl who lives on our maybes and could be’s

I saw you at the bus stop yesterday

Head in the mountains
Heart in the seas
Feet in the rivers, in bays, in streams
Head in the logic
Heart in the dreams
Hands in the tension sew stitches and seams

Head in the skies
Heart in the breeze
Eyes in the stars chart new galaxies
Head in the wild
Heart in the free
You in my want, but not in my need.
  
Head in the clouds
Heart in the trees
Hair in the wind, like grasses and greens
Head in the known
Heart in myst'ries
Wishes in whispers waiting on maybes.

Head in the wander
Heart in the journey
Faith in the Author of my living story
Head in the mountains
Heart in the sea
Yet, Soul in the prayer of you finding me.

|b.g.|

Ambitious Girl:

Consider this my reiteration.
I wanna read your books, and not just your looks.
Knowing what you look like ; I wanna be in your space - but not so much that I interfere with your education.
Let me say this,
Congratulations on being the very best you could ever be.
Putting priorities over everything, Miss couldn't get that coach cause tuition was due.
& sallie was nagging for a payback.
Sallie was nagging for a payback.
And you paid that, plus tax.
Miss made so many friends stepping with the sisters.
whatever it is, I hope you pledge an existence that'll make your existence, persistent.
Forever my queen, say you're listening...

Look, I'm still talking .
You love school but you're sick of Sally maybes .
No *** , you're the lucky one because all your friends have babies.
And you ain't slept , up thinking , tomorrow's that big test .
Few of your friends stripping you don't judge em' though.
You're insecure with your body so you like "forget it yo!"
So, I put you on that pedestal,
Girl I'm just saying your work ethic makes you edible.
Me a freak? That's something that they will never know.
Look, you're something they can never see;
You overpower  anything them other girls could ever be.
Go ahead and prepare for class, hit me when you finish up.
It's never too late, we'll celebrate soon as the grades come.
Shout to them girls in the club with no relations between their professors .
Yes sir, I propose a toast to them girls - that you offer them ones but they never let you.
I love your ambition.

Okay, shout out to them 4.0s and even 2.5s ; who signed up & failed but say "whatever , I tried."
It's nothing to deny for having a strong mind, I'll make sure to keep you in mind.
You're still someone I can ride with; dress up & get fly with.
It's still something you provide , you never hide , that makes me wanna get inside .
Look, ambition will define you, never worry about them hating chicks that wish to be just like you.
My goal is to serenade you everyday with these verses until you no longer insecure, obscure and hurting .
They gon know you;
Chasing your dreams, instead of chasing what's in a dudes' jeans.
And God blessed me with a lot of patience , but I ain't had none in a while - I need your AS(S)pirations .

I love your aspirations!
Ambitious Girl...
Fourth generation.

There are nights like tonight

When the world is ending again,

But this time it's not your fault.

And you wish that the fault was yours,

So as to have a reason to be with everybody else.

And you wish that he wasn't so lonely

And you wish that a different he liked to be lonely like you do

And you wish that you didn't like being lonely like you do

And you wish that another he was lonely

And you wish that she knew that you were lonely, but assumed you were sad.

And you wish that you didn't enjoy brooding

But then you could be happy with something else for a change.

And you wish that you knew what a real smile looked like,

Because you don't believe that you've ever truly seen one

And you wish you were a little meaner so you could seem a little happier

And you wish you were a little different  so you could want to be happier

And he wishes you were a little nicer because he doesn't know what mean is

And a different he wishes you were meaner so you could be somebody else

And a different he doesn't even know that you're nice at all.

And you wish that he thought you to be a sadist.

And you don't know why.

Maybe you just want to feel bad-***.

Maybe you just want to feel something new.

Maybe you know that he wants you to be something new.

Maybe you don't know that he is something new,

and you will be forever the same,

forever alone

an maybe you like it that way.

Funny how easy
Loves appears to be, until
It laughs with the other easily
Reconcilable "maybes"
That devalue your first "hello".

First, it began as "hello".
Little did you know how
Interested he would be in you, but
Reflecting on it now, you see how those
Tender tendencies weren't exclusive.

Finally, all you have left is "hello",
Like every other girl he knows.
Inevitably, you're one of many
Recycled pretties that thought
They were more than another "maybe".

She sets tries in the Evers,
And with a fingerly snap
Does hope to move others
Toward a self aiding trap.
With a mirror none friendly,
Save a well tailored mask,
Don't waste your time here.
And don't even ask.

She may now be pathing,
And facing her truths.
But I'll bide still my watches,
And wait out her proofs.
I wrestle with nothing,
All but processed the pain.
I care for her now,
As the falling of rain.

i was drowning in your galaxies of blue.
blue so pale- like your    e   y   e  s
when i swore i could feel them on me but
you weren't there.
i was drowning in your galaxies
in which the stars would shine
shine bright / bright light / bright white light / pale bright white light-
not like printer paper in the sun
more like the pigment of your skin
in the moonlight.

i didn't mind. drowning didn't seem
so bad.
because even though i felt awful and sad, i
also felt loved,
and that was so very pretty to me
as a poet. as a lonely star amidst
constellations.

you almost said the "l" word
a total of (probably) seven times in the five
long-short months that
we were almost lovers.
i actually said the "l" word
a total of five times.
twice as a half joke, hoping you'd pick up
where i slacked in clarity but never
in sincerity
and three times (thrice) in my goodbye
in which i beheld these self-evident truths:

that the almost (always almost) meant
that we could never be lovers
and i thought that i'd prefer us to be nothing to each
other but maybe friends.

(maybe, maybe, maybes make me want to wish on stars
but not the ones in your eyes)

and although time flies
i'm still somehow drowning in your galaxies
of blue.

and i wonder if its killing me
slowly
as your stars blink
and i'm gone
when they open their eyes.
*almost.