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.

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.

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.

Maybe he was right
Maybe we weren't meant to be in love
Every star in the sky and page in all of the books in my collection could never explain us
Maybe we should have fought harder for each other
Fallen to our knees and surrendered when we really had nothing more to give
Bruised and scarred from trying to hold on just a tad longer
Maybe it was our doubts that cut the rope
Perhaps it was all of our maybes that killed us in the end
We didn't believe in the 2 a.m cups of coffee or even the blood in our veins
We didn't have faith in what our future could hold, we didn't even have faith in ourselves
I think he was right when he said we couldn't do it
He was right to turn away and never come back
He saved us from more pain and maybe that's a good thing
Receiving peace in exchange for love

By Chloe Elizabeth

In a dream, in a life, in a future yesterday, the world is completely different from one lily-pad step I took on the fourth of May. 21 years spent ogling these maybes, these otherwheres, these fantastical infinite people and these wild infinite loves and intense infinite failures I could have had. I spend much time pondering them, but never wistfully, just thoughtfully. I regret none of the nowhere I am, so I wouldn't wish it away, but because of my reckless mind I wonder regardless of reason and logic.

But today, I wondered what if I stopped letting myself wonder and started letting myself dream.

I spent most of those maybe 21 years locked in a tower were maybes were the only hopes I had. But, below the tower as I now am, maybe maybe isn't all I have anymore. Maybe yes can be my new maybe. Maybe why not can be it.

As a writer, by condition i ask what could have been, what maybe could happen, but I struggle with why nots. With the bravery of a careening carousal ride or the average person of my age. I have let an inkling suspection that the world may **** me deter from all adventure. I've worked on it, but the acidic pinpricks on my skin make me cower like all alien-fearers should.

But funnily, I feel like an alien. So why not brave the danger by brandishing a hook and baring my own blood?

Today, I listed all the maybes I could be, and decided I should try some. Maybe I won't do them all. Maybe I'll hate them. But maybe I shouldn't give a ****. Maybe I should stop looking back and seeing all the turns I took that culminate in a loss of some wild experience, and look towards what is happening and see the maybes that lie before me.

Maybe I could have been a crack addict. Maybe I could have fallen in love with a different him/her. Maybe I could have drunk acid and be staring at my skeleton bones from the smooth waters of hell.

But  didn't.

So maybe, instead, I could be a yoga lover, and maybe my hair could be green, and maybe i could get over my fears of being even a little bit cool.

Just maybe.

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

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 prefer maybes
over the real thing
every single time
so give me a maybe
instead of reality
because sometimes
reality can ****
but a maybe is nothing
just a maybe
so don't give me your troubles
and taboos
and issues
no,
just don't
because my favorite place to see you
is in my imagination
when I wake up alone in the morning light
with a smile on my face
thinking maybe I'll go see you today,
maybe...

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.

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.

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.

**** everything, lets just listen and lay here
stop talking and listen to the sobs in the cheers
you used to jump on me so fast
but all that fun never lasts
then i saw you walking with him
and my light grew dim

you never made yourself out to be
what you really are, just like me
and i hate that, i really resent it
i can't take that, i couldn't recommend it
the reasons why we were washed ashore together
are getting clearer as the maybes turn to nevers

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.

maybe
i made the walls weak
so you could break them down and sneak

maybe
i shed the thorns along my stem
so you could snugly hold me like a gem

maybe
i took a step closer
so you wouldn’t have to walk farther

maybe
i swam deeper
so we could meet in the middle

maybe
i soared higher
so to crouch, you won’t bother

maybe
i colored the sky blue
so i’d meet yours that’s of different hue

maybe
i made the stars twinkle
so they’ll resemble your eyes that flicker

or maybe
i was deluded
so i couldn’t have this concluded

maybe
i was cheated on
so to your game, i could be the pawn

maybe
i drank a poison
so i could leave the world at dawn

maybe
i ignored the mayday
so with you, i could stay

maybe
you wanted me in pain
so to my whole being, you could reign

maybe
i just had to find a rope
so i could escape with hope

lastly, maybe
i should just stop this
so i could move on to a new bliss

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

Maybe snow cones
And pickup lines
Aren’t meant to go
Hand in hand,
But I needed a map
Because I was lost in your eyes.

You gave me a snow cone
I gave you my number
And maybe
That’s not a good trade
But you thought
Maybe
It was worth it
At least for one night.

You’re just a football-playing
Baseball boy
And maybe
There was a spark
And maybe
You liked the taste of grape
That lingered on my lips
And maybe
You’re still going
To text me back.

But maybe
Is no assurance
To a girl
In love with love
And boys who make
Snow cones.

Loving someone
and not being loved
in return
could possibly be
one of the worst forms
of self-destruction.

But have you thought that
just maybe they're also -
in the quite and dark of their room,
to the busy streets and traffic lights -
they wished you loved them back?

(Number one):
Maybe, just as your
heavy eyes
close to enter
the castles there in the skies,
hoping you'd see them
in your dreams tonight,
theirs are still open
at 3:37 am
because you still run
endlessly in the
tracks of their minds.

(Number two):
Maybe, just as your curtains
hold back the sun
outside your window
and you think,
"Oh my God, his smile."
they're already halfway
to your doorstep
but decided they don't want
to take a chance.

(Number three):
Maybe, just as your feet takes you
by your window
to see if they're waiting
for you on the sidewalk,
they've left because you've never looked outside.

(Number four):
Maybe, just as you found
the right words to describe them,
they've written countless journals
about you.

(Number five):
Maybe, just as you're
willing to drop the world
to hear them breathe,
they've already given up
even themselves for their heart
holds so much love for you.

Have you ever thought,
just maybe?

Maybe I'm the dark brown eyes you stare into
The ones you see your reflection in

Maybe I'm the hand combing through your jet black hair
Or the voice in the wind on an empty rooftop bar

Maybe I'm the brain you treat lesser than yours
Or the body in the room that tells you that you're not alone

Maybe I'm the throbbing **** you leave red Mac lipstick stains on
Or the stern screams that remind you of your father

Maybe I'm the lips touching your left cheek
Or the fingers that fix your nose ring

Who am I if not for all the times I've been cheated on?
Why should I be more than a pincushion
For all the times your dad didn't tell you he loved you?
Who would I be to all of you if I weren't
eyes,
hands,
barely a brain,
a ****,
and lips
?
Who am I if not a string of traumas
Walking my way through a path paved with eggshells and broken glass?
Who am I?

> 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?)

I cannot move, breathe, think, speak,
Legs splayed across cool sheets
That you departed from,
Your legs splayed in dusty sun
Far away.
Dim light filters through the
Dark blue muslin curtains we bought
Years ago,
Or it could have been days - each second is an eternity with you,
The curtains that reminded us of the night we met.
I can't bear to see the flag in the corner, tear stained,
Like my black clothes still strewn across the carpet.
All gone.
Somewhere in the back of my
Aching head, piano music plays and I
Believe
It is the song you played, the only one you knew,
When you asked me to marry you. I said yes
You hit the cheap keyboard so hard with joy
It broke, and all the keys spilled onto the ground,
Little pieces of black and white laughter.
And my heart swelled to the point of
Bursting
When you signed up, with your brave face and handsome eyes,
To defend me.
We both left unsaid the painful truth:
You would go away and maybe you wouldn't come back.
The day of your deployment my throat was so thick
I was choking on my fears, little dark stones of misery
Settling in my stomach before you even left, tainting the
Brilliant blue sky.
My wedding ring felt so heavy I would have
Sworn it would pull me right down through the
Hot, tar-scented asphalt swarming with camouflage.
I could barely whisper how much I loved you,
Tears dropping from my eyes, so swollen I
Strained
To catch a final glimpse of you, looking over your shoulder,
Your brave smile, handsome eyes
You blew me a kiss
I lost it,
My emotions pouring from my heaving chest, ugly sobs,
Let my eyelids sink over the image of you
Walking away.
It is my biggest regret, not watching until the
Last second.
If I had watched you leave, maybe somehow
You would have come back.

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