Somehow I already know
how it ends,
even before it begins.
Call it some type of
clairvoyance.

But you were unexpected;
you weren't part of the plan.

I chased you from the
comfort of the only path I knew,
and now all that I know
is how lost I'd be
without you.

She'll wake up at noon and
Dread getting out of bed.
At one, she'll get up and
Pretend that she's "just tired".
At two, her stomach is begging
For food, but she's too fat to eat.
She'll work out at three for her
Dream body, but it's only bones.
Her mother will come home from
Work at four and say she looks sick.
Dad comes home at five and
He'll say that she needs some meat on her.
The smell of a well cooked meal will
Flood her nostrils at six. Her stomach growls.
At seven, she'll give in and eat
With her family, but only a little.
Her little brother calls her fat
At eight 'o' clock; it'll make her cry.
When everyone heads to bed at nine,
She'll sneak to the bathroom to throw up.
At ten, she'll go back to bed
And cry because she isn't good enough.
She'll get a text message at eleven,
And she'll hope it's from the boy she loves.
When she's getting bullied at midnight,
She'll cut her wrists to feel better.
At one in the morning, she'll sob
Into her pillow until her heart tears
On into two a.m.
At three, she'll lie awake,
Unable to cry anymore.
She'll try to bandage her
Too damaged wrists at four;
And at five, she'll realize
That she doesn't care anymore.
At six a.m., she'll find a pen
And paper to write a letter.
She'll cry so hard that she'll
Have to start over at seven.
A knock at the door, a reminder
For school, will startle her at eight.
She will make up an excuse at
Nine for why she needs to go in late.
Her mother will leave for work
At ten, and she'll place her note conveniently.
Her mother with receive a call from
The school at eleven, she'll rush home angrily.
She'll burst into her daughters room at
Noon to find her motionless; a minute too late.

The way the new morning sun
shines on your bare, pale skin
is magical.

Your blue eyes, barely open,
focusing on mine, put me in
a trance.

Your lips, kissing the sleep off of
my body, makes me fall even more
in love.

Regurgitated images of you
Smiling at her,
(the way you smile at me)
Staring at her;
(the way you used to stare at me)
My stomach is queasy; my soul aches.

The heated fingertips of envy and
Anguish gently brush the hair
From my eyes, leaving the sensation
That I'm on fire. I am on fire;  my
Golden heart, now molten metal, heats
Every inch of this vessel; I am turning to ash.

Second guessing is something you've always
Beem good at, and you swore to
Never use it in me. But sitting across the room
From you, watching you watch her  made
It clear. I was never any good at
Getting first place; second best is home to me.

Poisoning rage is swimming in my
Veins;  desolation echoes throughout the
Cracks in my lungs and chest. Melancholy
Seeps into my soul like the first rain of
Spring. This barren landscape is engulfed by
The malignity. What am I supposed to do?

Every time you touch me, I wonder
If you wish you were touching her.
When you press your lips to my neck, I
Wonder if you're trying to imagine her scent.
When you're mumbling sweetly in your Dreams, I question if you're dreaming of her.

Hearts are supposed to be strong, and
My soul is supposed to stand on its own,
But Jesus Christ, I'm crumbling.
How can I get these foul images out of
My over active brain?  How can I accept
That I'm only going to finish in second place?

The world lies in a quiescent state;
Darkness robs even more of the light
from a planet
steadily growing colder.

Sounds of the breeze exhaling down the
spine of the Old Oak makes me
cringe. What's happened
to the songs of the forest?

This woodland heart, frozen solid by
Old Man Winter's icy fingertips,
sleeps peacefully
among lives that are on pause.

A bitter kiss from the old man's lips
and we are prepared for our slumber.
Eternal dreams
preface our resurrection.

The panic sets in and my lungs
Turn into mice held in the tyrannical
Grasp of the boa constrictor.

Tsunami waves of fear rush over
The surface of my skin like the
Tremors of an earthquake.

Heat rises to my eyeballs,
Red from the hot springs that
Were leaking from their ducts.

Breathe. Calm. Repeat
Until it becomes a mantra,
Or perhaps a curse.

Hire the witch doctor to
Medicate me, and exorcise
The demons from my brain.

Breathe. Calm. Repeat.
Fake it till you make it,
At least that's what they say.

My eyes transmute to dark, forest tones.

(Isn't the forest supposed to be beautiful?)

She's beautiful; nothing at all like me.

I make acrimonious convictions about her, and

Sadly,  it provides me so much relief.

I shouldn't preoccupy myself with such maliciousness,

I am desirous of who you are.

I wake in the belly of a poem.
Wading into watercolor
And a twisting labyrinth
Of Boston ivy.
I can't see through this fog
But it can see through me.
Words like pollen glide
On the wind and
Guide me like fireflies to
A sanctuary of wildflowers.
Here, everything speaks
To me, fluent in my native tongue.
Inhale, exhale, repeat until there's peace.
Bonsai at my feet as if
My toes are whispering to the roots:
"Grow, blossom, thrive",
And I will learn to
Take my own advice.

My birth control is making
Me crazy again.
Breakdown, rage, comfort,
Repeat. Repeat.

Like clockwork,
I have to remind myself that
"I'm no monster", "it's the hormone",
"I swear I still crave you".

My love for you is
A radiant bloom, being
Suppressed and bullied by the
Bushes bearing thorns.

My hatred for you is
The shell of the bird that
Traps the life inside, leading
It to claw it's way out to breathe.

Wait for me to emerge,
My shell is holding me back
As a safety protocol.
I have not been born yet.

A knight pretending he
Is imperfect,
Surrendering the bind
For softeness and
Passing his earthly
Emptiness to the
Sleepy sea.

A surreal muse for
This rejected girl;
Emotionally abandoned
And feeling discarded.
A knight armed
With charm
Was gifted to me.

Lucid dreams of a place
That seems unfamiliar,
But it feels like home.

I perform a barefoot ballet,
Sinking my toes like anchors
Into the soil.

Orchids and sunflowers
Stand guard like soldiers, giving
An aroma as strong as gun smoke.

The wind whistles its tune
As the leaves tango, resembling
Lovers brushing fingertips.

I reminisce days where
The garden was the universe
And words came easy.

Today I am speechless and
Amazed by all this vast
World has shown me.

Lately, it's been memories
and sleepless nights.
My bed, our bed,
these sheets still smell like you.
I swear I hear your voice
echoing through the walls
at three in the morning, and
I'm awake for another sleepless
night.
I almost called you,
but I convinced myself not to.
Sometimes I have to remind
myself to breathe.
"Just breathe."

I have to remind myself that
the world isn't over, and that
my shoulders have carried far more
weight than that of the pain you
have caused me.
I can heal.
I need to remember that
yesterday is gone; it no longer
exists. I can't keep dwelling on
a past that doesn't
dwell on me.
I can do this.

Foot tap,
              tap,
                  tapping;
pencil chewed down to the core.
Focus, it will come.

I take everything to heart,
So watch what you say.
It'll run through my head
And bounce around my brain.

I don't know if it's the hormones,
Or my talent of overthinking,
But something isn't right in me.
I feel like I'm sinking.

I'll take everything to heart,
Even if you don't mean it that way.
I'll let it settle within my ears,
Make me sick to my chest all day.

I remember the hatred I had for you.

You, the glowing beauty I wish
I could be, waltz back into a life
You left broken and I
Picked up the pieces to.

You, the smiling sun, attempting
To blind those who stare in awe,
And set fire to the heart of one
Who would've given all for you.

You, the toxic waste puddle,
Returning to a person who
Was once home to seep
Back into his blood.

I remember the hatred I had for you.

You, the brave dragon,
Showing up to wreck a home
That never belonged to you;
I think you've always known that.

You, the wilting flower,
Beg to be served your water
From a crystal ashtray, getting
Attention you did not deserve.

You, the broken heart girl
With teeth like a shark and eyes
That wander; disappear like you do.
You are no longer welcome.

"When we love someone, they live within us."

Why do they have to live within us?

I can hardly live within myself.

She always thought
The willow was in disguise.
Its drooping branches
Reminded her too much of her eyes.

The way its leaves give
Too easily in the breeze
Reminds her of how she
Gives her love to men with ease.

Just as the willow
bends under the snow,
stress takes her to
a place far below.

But the roots are strong
and steady in the storm;
lost in the shadows,
but the sun will be warm.

The storms will be brutal,
and they won't always be fair;
but just like the willow,
Spring will put flowers in her hair.

Insignificance comes in waves,
and then departure is imminent.
Not gravity, but pressure, keeps
us on these tracks; tension pulling
and pushing with the force of a magnet.

Hope is the host and we are the
leeches, latching on and bleeding dry.
Emotional rollercoaster;
Riding blind and oblivious to
the hill looming ahead. We always
loathed the risk, but we enjoyed the thrill.

This imbalance, it comes in waves;
when weakness is most accessible.
Free fall from the top of the world with
no forewarning, no safety device.
Just breathless lungs from a fearful swan dive.

In a way, you are the host and
I, your parasitic lover. Your
affection is my safe haven;
your love like a salve for the wounded.
Today, I feel myself drowning, but
don't fret, this submersion comes in waves.

I can’t love you gently,
It isn’t in my blood
To only give a portion
Of this heart.

I can’t love you gently;
My bones creak your
Name and my skin
Smells of you.

No, I can’t love you gently
When all this vessel is,
Is heart, and love, and
Love, and love.

I love with all of me;
I love fiercely and with
Strength. I can’t be loved,
Nor can I love you, gently.

Spinning, spinning, spinning;
I'm getting sick and I feel
Too dizzy. I was not made
For this uncontrollable whirl.

Things haven't been as they
Were, and I'm not sure if it's
The changing time, or the change
In me, that is so unsettling.

Creatures peel through my brain,
Poking fun at my deepest insecurities,
And bringing them to life.
(I googled how to get rid of them.)

Their static fingers pry open scars
That have long healed, leaving
A brand new wound.
(Google couldn't find an answer.)

I just can't seem to grasp how
I feel so ******* alone, cradled in
His warm arms; I can't begin to
Explain that I love him so much it hurts.

Two battles raging in my head,
A fight that I didn't consent to,
And I'm left to pick up the broken
Pieces of who I used to be.

The problem with this war is
That it's at a stand-still.
Neither side has the strength to  
Keep fighting, although it's crucial.

I'm begging for its end, so I
Can begin to understand;
Understand love, beauty, myself.
I miss knowing who I was.

A dark emptiness hesitates;
Autumn sparks a flame into the sky.
The creeping winter brings me
Chills, and the ravens of the snow
Appear far too early.

Keep Father Cold away for just a little longer.
These brittle bones can’t handle bitter cold
Until these wounds are cauterized and
I feel the warmth in my blood again.
Give me time to hibernate.

"Come over tonight,
I'm craving your love.
I'm begging for your touch,
I'm hungry for your kiss.
Baby, wont you come over?"

You put on his favorite perfume:
The purple bottle of Vera ****,
the one with the cap shaped
like a crown. Tonight, you're
hoping to be his princess.

Once you arrive, you walk right in.
He doesn't greet you at the door,
but that's okay. He never has.
You come to his room, he doesn't say
a word, only strips you of your coat,

your Victoria's Secret lingerie, and
your dignity. You go through the
motions of what seems like making love.
But you know you're putting passion into
something that is incapable of giving it back.

Your kiss is full of want,
his has no feeling.
Every touch becomes more caring,
but from him, its only a game.
You know that he doesn't want anything more.

When he falls asleep, you're left to
lie in the sweat, shame, and disgust.
You thought it was different this time,
but its never different. You can't refuse
his sensual offers, the stealthy ways of

getting all that he wants from you.
It isn't your fault, but it is.
Your constant requirement of love
makes it impossible to refuse him.
"Baby, wont you come over?"

Sad songs hit sweet
Like cardiac butterfly kisses,
They’re a favorite because
Pain is the most creative emotion.

Give a musician heartbreak
And he’ll make the world fall in love with him.
Give him love and
He’ll make the world love you, too.

Heartbeat to the metronome,
Keep beat with the blood flowing through.
Lyrics float from your lips,
Balloons of symbols and metaphors.

Baby blue, change the
World with the strum of a chord;
Save the world by
Giving us your words.

A stolen fragment
Of me turns into
A whisper.

Black, envious, engulfing;
My texture too watery,
So I turn into mist.

Entwined by the moon,
a charming shadow
Soft to the touch.

The sorrow in me
Melts quickly
Into the dark.

Hang me
Like a Dali painting.
Oil on canvas,
Blood on skin.
No one understands me
Anyway.

Drape me
Like foreign fabric.
Silk on bedsheets,
Clothing to vessel.
No one feels my softness
Anyway.

Fold me
Like intricate origami.
Paper to paper,
Chest to chest.
No one feels the heartbeat
Anyway.

She walked to the
Beginning of time,
Just to clear her head.

She hoped that if
She went back to the
Past, she'd understand

What went wrong.
The memory replayed
Like a stuck record.

He walked to the
Front door, so early
In the morning that

The sun had barely
Risen, and shadows
Scattered across the

Ground like the ****
Of his cigarettes and
Cans of beer.

She remembered that
He didn't drink,
And knew something was

Wrong. She ran to
The front door,
Just in time to see

Him leaving.
"Where are you
Going, Daddy"

He smiled sadly
And kissed her
Forehead.

"Daddy's gotta for
For a while, until
Mommy is happy again."

She didn't quite
Understand, she
Thought he'd be back

Soon. But it took a
Walk through time to
Understand that he wasn't

Coming back; that
Mommy and Daddy
Were done for good.

Mommy's excuse was that
Daddy was work bound,
And he'd come back soon.

But the truth is, Daddy
Didn't want to face his babies,
So he disappeared early in the morning.

This veil spun by
A knight of reality,
Breaking struggle into riches
Like a heavenly collapse.
An intricate escape from
The waiting womb
Of distortion and melancholy;
Illusion of a metaphorical tomb.

Eternally great is
The mask weaver,
Painting faces open to truth,
Waking new dreamers.
Sing to life these
Revelations while
I drop the veil
And truly perceive.

Tears made of blood falling down her cheeks. Help her.

Happiness is Karma’s sidekick.
A cruel twist of fate
Where you find everything you
Ever wanted and it’s
Ripped from your chest like
A bandage.

I don’t remember
What I’ve done to deserve
My fate. Karma
Surely gets hers, but
Happiness refuses
To love me back.

Wake up and my
Head is cracking
Like Kentucky pavement.

Foggy and frustrated;
(At what?)
**** this, **** that.
Morning ******* *****
Worse than Kentucky pavement.

Coffee caresses my nostrils
And lures me to the kitchen
By hand. Inhale deep
Like the first drag of a stress cig.
Pour.
       Sip.
              I’m a brand new *****.

"Ha, I thought you might"

You think about me.
You remember things about me.

Acknowledgement by someone
who's godly.

My heart playing some sick trick on my brain,
("Ha, I thought you might")

April Fools.

Your words falter and shake,
“I didn’t mean it like that”.
But you did.
As if you think I’m not already aware;
As if you think I can’t feel that weight
Already bearing on my spine like stone.
As if I didn’t already question
Every
          little
                    thing
About me.

You meant what you said,
It just wasn’t the right timing.

I feel like a stranger
In my home,
In my body;
Invisible and wearing
A sheet over my head.

Unheard by all
Worldly ears,
I’m sure the universe
Turns a blind eye
To my prayers.

I like to relate
Myself to bamboo;
Hollow but strong-
Willed. Lanky and
Filled with watery wisdom.

But quiet,
Oh so quiet.
A deadly weapon
And a shield
Against unlistening ears.

A silent yearning,
A splash of soft renegade.
This gold softness
Close again like armor;
My collapse, his surrender.

Please my quiet scream;
I crave your emotion,
My charming melody.

The cold sense of a
Dreamy deja-vu;
I feel the shadows
Crowd around me
And I’m p
                  u
                     l
                       l
                        e
                          d
Into a familiar darkness.

I roam the dreamscape
In search of an exit.
Although I already know
What lies ahead,
I’m still distressed.

A constant reincarnation
Of the same faceless
Figure, waiting for me
At the end of
My dreaded ascension.

Chilled to my soul,
I face my indistinctive
Nightmare. The ghosts
Of the past seen so alive
From behind closed eyes.

Shadow talk about
Z  o  n  i  n  g out
Like I’m not haunted
By its icy ghosts.

Fingers hold my eyes open
To memories of the last time,
Ones I’d hoped to
Never feel again.

I remember that my heart
Imploded, and my bones
Crumpled under the pressure
Of guilt, or pain, or shame.

My skin peeled back to
Reveal bleeding muscle and
Torn heart strings, still
Trying to play a happy song.

My eyes turned broken
Faucets the night he left
And I was so sure
He would never come home to me.

I stayed awake as long as
The lights stayed on,
And fell asleep trying to
Convince myself he still loved me.