epic of the Atlantic.

my brother and my sister don't speak to me; but i don't blame them.

as the grandfather descends into the faded, uncontrollable angles of his mind,

the granddaughter hums to the ocean.

winded, dark, dangerous--and the most comforting thing to be seen in a long time.

time swirls like paddled water, and the life circling around her finger freezes just long enough to catch her breath and hold onto the railing so as to not slip in the ocean, the same descent, the same loss. to be insane is to be dead.

where the snow falls, the man waits. for an answer; a whisper across the Atlantic. you cannot hear the flakes hit the ground, the sidewalk is too wet. no danger between the cracks and across its vast stretches and parking lots. only wet.

if there were no warmth in my hands, i would catch the snowflakes and make it a tower just so i could watch it fall and blow over.

resting, the boat's engines cease their turning, and the granddaughter catches her eye's desire. stealing her breath, squeezing her heart, squandering every good and sensible notion she has ever had. that look changed her. for the "deep," worser. and for the shallow [experience makes better superiors], better.

do i claim my words to speak for the ocean?

well, no one has ever seen the wave. all the waves in the ocean equate to a life of breaths, a story to be told, a narrative to be respected.

and all these words from a basement. who will remember? who will discover? or will they sink into the floor and become soil on the material?

help me find my way cause i've been lost since you've been gone.

we question the passes.

to be fair, you've never had your traveled feet in my trendy shoes

and i have not in yours

but when the glass cracks, and the water breaks, the

pressure is off

wheels stop turning

they spin on their own accord, madly

until the world freezes

who drew the line?

canyons spread apart slowly with time

waters carving out their ways at a malicious pace, slow but steady {wins the race}

i wait in its stones, underneath its rushing passes

aware of the storm

i became simple

because i let myself discover why

while you search i will wait with the waters

simple and cut

minimized to an issue

love for now.

the taste of someone new rests on my lips

as my heart twists into circles at the thought of every future, and

every moment to come

the beautiful, the

horrible

warm & cold

i fear my sense of true is flawed, and that i

prefer the ones with mug shots

but i cannot imagine a day without

so i will pursue the

together

until the next day

and the next

citrus.

the world turned orange, and the birds

sang kiri-kiri

my left hand wanted to be free of what it was holding

so i ran on to purple

till my stomach became a poisonous lining, and my body

shook till i burst into flame

the color orange took on my

skin

cafe a la no one.

in this shell of unknown faces, i

comfortably sit. aware of my

flaws. those on my face,

those in my

behaviors, and those in my

person.

unimpressed pillars hold up this ceiling

planks and beams hold up the

floor

my memory, it is sore

inner glow is yours to take,

yours to embrace

and these bones of mine?

they support

this frame of a person, waiting

for more

the jewels sink, heavy with expectation.

you dreamt my hair was on fire

why is that everyone's skin i brush become dagger-like particles on a spider's leg?

all i want is for us to be happy, and to be enough

my heart that drops at the thought of you, my voice that soars at the sight

... the sight of the idea of you

sighing, i wait

i dont meant to bother

please lift up my reasons for sinking

capsized, i will wait

as the bolts burst and the sirens scream

till water turns black, and my soul with it

till you wake from this jilted day

my world rests on the balance of togetherness

restrained wails are not enough

i take refuge in a triad's completion, and rhythms unfailing

reaching, my hand grows pale

as the deep overcomes

and i am an artifact

drifting in the ocean

i-v-i.

upon review, red marks settle themselves aside mistakes

my laughter chokes at the thought of saying goodbye, but

who allows the broken to cut themselves with glass?

your dismay irks me

and i chirp like a bird in self defense, when perhaps i should

fly away

i want to fall

fall into your arms

but my pride supports the muscles that hold my spine straight,

as straight as curved bones can be

until then, your presence will play chopsticks on my ribcage and sonatinas on my backbone

because pure hearts are causing me to question everything i know

the lights go out

and i am left alone with the inversions

three times walk.

sometimes i cant help but wonder if you think me

it seems we were in all the right places at the right time

boy you had a touch of destiny in my mind

but i missed your warm looks through the portrait of my glassy eyes

im young but i know the taste of wine

yeah im blind but i see when you dont stop at the stop signs

and im free but im still chained to time

yeah im young but i know the taste of wine

when its cold i cant help but miss your warm hand around mine

when its dark i can't help but wish you were my streetlight

i never noticed your clean hair until now

cause boy i missed your tries until now

im young but i know the taste of wine

yeah im blind but i see when you dont stop at the stop signs

and im free but im still chained to time

yeah im young but i know the taste of wine

despite it all

i get tipsy in the twilight

despite it all

i cant stand when you're not in sight

despite it all

i love your shoulders when they touch mine

im young but i know the taste of wine

yeah im blind but i see when you dont stop at the stop signs

and im free but im still chained to time

yeah im young but i know the taste of wine

im young but i know the taste of wine

yeah im blind but i see when you dont stop at the stop signs

and im free but im still chained to time

yeah im young but i know the taste of wine

let me tell you something about your religion.

let me tell you something about your religion. your holiness sets you apart, you are better than the rest. because god personally chose you to speak to and love, you are allowed to consider my humanistic way of living despicable and below you. because you went to africa, you have been to the promise land, you personally have saved the gentiles. good for you. because you have decided that god has chosen you, you are allowed to look down on those who can't quite bear to sit every sunday in the front pew listening to words. let me tell you something about your religion. you claim love is your life, but you can't bring yourself to the level of those who need to be loved. you scoop your hand down into darkness, but are afraid of the dirt underneath your fingernails. you assume god speaks to you. because you, of all people, deserve it, because you love. your love is a lie. because loving is trust, and i don't trust you with my real, dirty, ugly feelings and thoughts. where i see rain clouds, you see sunshine, because you can't bear to think that there is any darkness except at parties and in africa (god save them). there are problems in life you don't even know, because you are too scared of a life that is real. a life that doubts, and hates. let me tell you something about your religion. it is a falsehood. it is blind. it is self absorbed, and it disgusts me. i may not live the perfect life, but i know how to hate. and this makes me know love. i know doubt. and this makes me know faith. let me tell you something about your religion.

it is a lie.

feels like summer, tastes like fall.

i can hear the leaves turning in on themselves, crunching

gasping

who has found the trigger that turns us in on ourselves?

retrospection becomes retrograde

questioning again

we fell in love when all the leaves were gone

thanks to her, i always know where you are now

but you didn't love music

you didn't love me when i wasn't there

you didn't love anyone but yourself

to this day you make me hurt

but i am ready for a new face, a new feeling

the air is so perfect it feels like nothing against my skin

silence and crackles

whistles

closes in

surrounds me till there is nothing else

and in this silence i love myself and love everything that has happened to me

because it has brought me to today in this silent moment where the world feels like nothing but the timely crackling of leaves

someone like you.

shrouded in darkness

cover these words with a black veil; unpure

my broken bones will drag themselves to a city on the sea where no one know me,

no one knows you

starting over with everyone, with myself

leaving my lost loves and sallow ambitions, colored by excuses and fears

my stomach is full of disappointment, mean words, and salt

salt stings the eyes, my drowning mouth, my yellow teeth, stringy hair

my complexion screams my wellbeing; disgusting

i am no one, if anything

second guessing everything i used to pride myself on, for nothing is left to love

i will cut all the ties, open all the scars, leaving my life on the chopping block, waiting for surgery to inevitably sear what is whole

burns in the oven

i often wonder if anyone really knows me at all

including myself

bass head.

there would be colors as many as we have water

your face close by larger than life as our heads would pound pound pound

out of this world

everything we've been warned about an experience to never tell our children but dictates reality and color and plain and simple and noise

bass head

bass

so we can forget everything that sets us back and a world that is my own and it occupies my every thought and action and lack of action and breath and flicker of my eyes

look at me one more time

let go let go let go

i am alone but i want you close close closer

bass

bass head

i need a la la la la la

i need a oo la la la love

bass

bass head

trace in my highlighter ink

and i glow

tripping over wires that weren't there before

la la la la love

bass

bass

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JRftXCiqfQ8

broken in half.

pencil, trace my outline

because for once, thats all there is

nothing pulling at me

except for the inner chords that make up the one person i always have been

but too afraid to let her be

no one will know,

for no one can see

no one but me

for i live with the shame of all my lies and all my faults and all my wishes and all my endeavors and all my pride [fallen] until they

shattered

every last one

so here i am left with nothing to draw but

myself

whoever she is

not who she wants to be

for i am done putting my faith in things that crash and fall

my inner chords are sour, imbalanced, somehow off

now i will listen closely to my soul and not the whispers of others,

my own voice included

for she lies

but me

i am not complicated

i am simple

simply downtrodden and forgetful of my own experience

blank

open, two halves

write on me, savior

4' 33".

apparently i was not worth cooking for. a craving, a hunger for being good enough. all of them letting me go. dicks. searching for a girl skinnier, pelvis first. i want release, for my ti to become a do, a tendency leading me forward. contrarily, i lie stuck in one position so my shirt won't slip off my shoulder. and slowly, i see the world i knew dying around me, inside me. it is the same. to your rue {making sore your tender pride}, i will drop you for another more humble. eyes across the room, all i know is i am moving down into something more deep than the color of your eyes and the length of your hair and the ranks of your ego. down into something more. change inside me, change around me.

music is both sound and silence.

to do what?

when i left home this morning it was summer, and upon my return there was fall.

don't call her sweetheart, thats me.

have you ever felt tired and anxious at the same time? its more draining than exercise.

too many people, too little time. not enough time for cleaning and sitting and being.

to do. to do what?

up in the woods.

my lover, the wind, plays with my hair as my feet which will travel the world take me nowhere in particular. suddenly my fists hold all the energy in the world and all i can do is breathe deeply to let the rush flood my veins till it spills out the tips of my hair, and this is everything. one day, my love and i will meet in the middle; love is equal, and love is safe. guitar strings click in the silence and darkness falls like the universe's eyelid and i am up in the woods and on a direct route to haphazard and for once in my life i love it and i cannot get enough. slowly my chest fills with the feeling that the dark has come and knowledge makes my head heavy because i know i will become lost in it which is something i've always wanted but feared and hated all at once and the energy returns and i am pushing myself forward because the dark has become night and i am alone with the streetlights and they don't want to see me. i want to be lost. but my heart wants to be found and held so the darkness will not take it too. at twilight my soul met my body and they danced until i didnt feel so lost because heaven is a place and energy is a visceral and tangible reality that culminates in nothing but words on a page but it feels like heaven. which is a place. but i am here, up in the woods, where no one sees me but the streetlights and no one would know i was gone for a day or so until my soul had left the earth and my body lay in the woods. after that there would be no more dancing except for the woods whose branches sway in the occasional breeze that is night and moon and anticipation of the end coming. the branches tease my face, the shell of my soul, and my body walks on till the inevitable morning.

these are my choice notes.

sitting on the beach was one of the best moments i've had all summer. glen arbor is absolutely gorgeous... the stones on the beach, the grainy sand, the ribbons of color in the water. the temperature was perfect. complete separation from everything was the perfect therapy. now i am back, i have to deal with the boy situation, which sucks. and hear about working out and dieting and being better and all that shit. which i give in to... frequently.

both my siblings are in relationships. both seem like their lives are going to be figured out. predictable career paths, staying local. and what the fuck am i doing? singing? moving? resting on potential? i dont know.

i want to move out of my house into an apartment all by myself so i can stop worrying about everything im "supposed" to be doing. i need to learn what really makes me happy regardless of outside pressures. and i need to learn to be happy for people for what they have. i need to write and be alone... because it felt really good.

"stop telling me what i need to do. i will figure it out."

a fact.

it makes me sad. that i cannot feel without hurting another

something so internal

turned into a storm of spite

i want to make it all easy

but usually it gets worse.

not poetry

just something undeniable

churn.

all of it was beautiful

until the storm hit

then every piece of "unwanted" floated to the

surface

hitting our feet

lingering between our toes

but the boy once had a touch of destiny about him

part of me cares less

my young self could live in a mobile home

if it had windows and a grand piano

he laughed at art

but i will give him the chance

his thought has not crawled

under my skin

and that worries me

for him

for her

for me--the afterthought

but the trash has floated up from the surface

leaving takes time

to kill a mockingbird.

for the sake of experience i will watch my life (once together and somewhat whole) fall.

to push my boundaries for the sake of feeling my world expand, i suppose. the world is

challenging me, but i will shrug it off and wait for

"experience" to knock on my door.

i suppose am playing hard to get with experience.

life is merely many strings woven together, some more memorable than others.

as if through a camera lens, or perhaps a picture frame,

i watch myself fall slowly

beautiful disaster

like my daddy told me

like my mother didn't scold me

and my gut forced me

to take the leap onto hard desire--but not different than

expected. expectations.

and i hear them murmuring downstairs, even though i think im doing pretty well.

asking me to leave, then holding me back with their big hearts and fragility,

while i am the one breaking.

smart or carefree?

living or existing?

i will watch the pieces slowly fall as i scramble to pick them up so i can throw them down.

letting go while my heart holds on

a coming of age novel

ah... relax, dammit.

dealing with said worried feelings with a home-pedicure from a janky kit my mother probably received as a compensation gift from the mother of an ADD student. this kit had the intention of relieving my mother's stress from said child's obnoxious behavior. alas, unused.

my feet are currently delved ankle deep into an old bucket from my basement since we don't have any "foot baths" (since we are frisian and don't believe in relaxation) and since no one in my house takes baths because we are too tall (because we are frisian). this bucket from the basement was worth it though. and not just because i had to walk in on my brother and his new girl friend making out (IIIIII am the one who is older... shouldn't i be making out with someone???), but also because my feet are going to smell delicious and dammit i will relax if its the last thing i do.

subconsciously, i believe that this will make me more attractive. as if any one gives a damn what my feet look like if i have boobs.

its official, by the way. i am leading on 2 separate boys and am not interested in either. mostly i am putting these situations off, but i still worry about them. its summer... i dont want to worry. some would say its my fault. but how can i help it if they mistake enthusiasm for interest? honestly.

feet are pretty pruney. i feel like bridget jones <3. all i need is some wine... the dream. take it back. a male italian masseuse who will also feed my chocolate. that is all i need.

welp. relaxation is more difficult than you would think. my feet are losing feeling because they are too big and frisian for this janky little bucket.

complete. ish. i will now continue to cover my nails in a delicate pink. my favorite color. ?

when worry came to visit.

greetings, worry. like nerves, kind of... but no promise of relief after you've drank enough water and finished your song. just a feeling that does not go away with reasonable thinking, unlike nerves.

why am i worried? money. yeah, i know tuition discount, blah blah blah. this doesnt mean that i havent worked my ass off every summer since 15 in preparation for the next few years when i will be living paycheck to paycheck to cover rent, insurance, and food.

the future. girls at the campus store love to talk about weddings, of all things. the dresses, flowers, rings... not only does my honeymoon sound so much more appealing, and i would be less nervous to sing in front of 50,000 people than stand in front of everyone i know done up like a barbie in order to commit my life to one person, but i dont even know what kind of person i mesh with. i've dated a few, wished for others... and it hasn't felt remotely "right" yet. "but you've had lots of boyfriends!" yes. i have. this doesnt mean i trusted them with my heart or believed they could really love me.

my career? laugh at me, sure. but you have to settle down sometime. what is my future riding on? auditions: seeing if i fail or not. lovely. thats a great feeling. if that doesn't happen, go to grad school or find some job that will take psych majors. or lose 20 pounds, get my ass in a tanning booth, dye my hair blonde, and become a trophy wife. a viable option.

i know, i am blessed. but i hate not having control. i NEVER worry about the future. it seems futile. but today, i feel like i am losing it.

when i join a motercycle gang or become a punk ass kid.

i don't want a tattoo, but if i were to get one, it would say

blessed

in white ink.

cartoon sky.

breaking news

a giant bubble has decided to inhabit my

chest

where i keep my laughter and guilt

not my cynicism and common sense

im praying for it to pop

but the weather forecast did not predict

settling

not until later, anyways

to bide my time,

coy and carefree will be my two best friends

as i face the fight against fate alone

the weather forecast did not predict much

but ambiguous skies may have been mentioned

keep your eyes peeled.

clouds do not have definite lines,

and certainly not silver ones

just a few.

the strongest emotions i have ever felt:

elation after making capella

anger at my friend when she told me my shirt was too low cut in 8th grade

hopelessness when i pulled over in a parking lot to cry about my dad

guilt when i confessed to never eating my sandwiches in elementary school

love when at my family's table

hate upon looking at my reflection sophomore year

freedom while running around campus in the rain

panic on my last birthday after talking about faith and then my professor hating my guts

lights on the ceiling.

and i will throw these ropes off this cliff

just to get away from what haunts me

dare.

now, i flick the dark with my fingers

my hair

daring the walls to fall down

laughing at a reason

any reason at all

breaking machines has become a habit of mine

making guesses about experience

who knew?

lighting flash

thunder louder

dare me now?

we're not getting younger

together again.

although i was gone for only a few days, the world seems new again. and not because of the things that occupy the world, but because of how i see. the reminder of true compassion, loneliness, and suffering. some of the things i fear the most and love the most all in one weekend, but realizing potential simply because of where i have been placed.

paint chips, the abilities of my body, and the promise of an unexpected future... about all i can ask for.

together is only a word. one that hides brokenness and cries for help. fixes are only temporary distractions. and pain lasts till we die. but family, real family, keeps us from falling apart.

we are always running for the thrill of it.

let this be our prayer

you've still got my love

the words rest on your lips and the breath sends them out

uncapitalized

words find me small, today.

each step taking me a little farther, but eventually closer to home.

the equinox.

hoping for nothing, and loving everything i receive, and everyone i speak to.

my teeth are empty, but when i smile, they fill up like glasses ready to drink.

what will make my life better?

for once, i am not aware enough (or perhaps dissatisfied) to know.

so i will float on this precarious dream, as i look to summers past.

i hope there is no pitfall.

world for the win.

HERE'S THE DEAL. im in a super bad mood. so im going to write it out.

woman at the campus store: "huh! you probably want to leave right now since its a friday and its after closing and im checking out! ha!"

me: (notice no quotation marks) hell yeah i do you dumb bitch. because of you, i cant run since i have to sing at a praise concert as a favor for my friend even though i hate praise music. little do you know, i am really trying to lose weight and every time i cant work out, i dont feel good about myself at all. so now, i will go home, sit on my ass, binge eat, and fume. thanks.

chick: cuts me off.

me: honks at her ass. because she's a dumb bitch who saw me coming. wait your turn.

boy: asks me to hang out.

me: doesn't know if this is such a great idea. likes to see him, but doesnt want to hurt a friend. likes boy as a friend. boy also does not understand the specific 'lets hang out next week' text messages. has to restate herself, which pisses her off since bitch 1 and 2 decided to be stupid.

mom: calls me Eeyore.

me: goes upstairs after wondering why she should have to discern how she felt about her day when she rarely comes home after a day of work fuming. honest to God.

brownie: "im going to make your ass huge."

me: agrees, because i cannot run thanks to bitch #1.

girls at work in response to bitch #1 being in store after closing: "oh lalala! that's totally fine! we are great workers who love health food and our steady boyfriends! rainbow!"

me: get the hell out.

world: "suck my d."

me: "okay."

child of the world.

the irony slowly chokes me

in the dark, i feel it

down

wave upon wave till it rises

in my mouth

prayers erupting:

for smooth skin,

a night never ending,

and a day when the strength of my arms and the outline of my legs no longer matter to a single soul

not even me

until i sink in and accept that i am my surroundings

for this world has made me

why won't it feed its child?

show all history.

this means nothing to you.

like a time bomb she

ticks

waiting for averages and words she will

never

understand

it tore her up once

why not again?

she cant wait till the day when she will

share the weight

of gowns and electricity

blades and the omnipresent unknown

with her very loved

until that day

all the self-help books.

all you need:

1. a big enough breath

2. no expectations

3. people to lead you

4. and a god to love you

she conquers all.

i left nothing, i forgot nothing

just a drawstring effect on a year very much worth living

eventful to say the least

and as i continue to manage small spaces,

i will keep experience micromanaged in bins

catalogued in no certain order for the next year

which will be all-so-different

in ways i cannot explain

freshman year: you are defeated.

one letter.

the aftermath of a life spent without violence

culminates in my lack of interpersonal skills with those

who i deem to be better

so i reap the rewards of a silent mouth and careful posture

learning what it is "beauty" and

"fulfillment"

your note missed my plate

but i think i am okay

because chai will taste like heaven regardless of your fitted clothing

and it will be consumed tonight inevitably

as i venture into the land of hipsterdom

so i segment my life as my body turns bronze

and you will be gone

but i think i am okay

eventually, the simple letter "i" will be enough

smokes, struts, sighs, and sings.

like puzzle pieces, they pair off like salt and pepper

blending together into a single shade of grey

as the shaker breaks

and the glass

cuts

my fingers

i smile because i am happy

but i return singing killing me softly

for mine eyes have seen thy salvation

a light to the Gentiles

i ask only this

why?

trying to believe in salt, pepper, and sand

but they

slip

through my fingers and blend into the earth

like dirt in the universe's eye

eyelids shut

to end the dream

to start the day

to put a face to the blurred people, places and pictures

alligators, bright shirts, no seasons

waking before waking

night before night

morning of my morning

set off my half-a-brain

so that i may finally see what

apparently

i have been missing this whole time

immortal.

stretched out so thin,

you can see the veins, blue

and the bones, white

the stress seeping through pores

as i laugh hormones into sweet submission

ein deutches requiem

salalala carry me to the countryside where

rain

falls

and cleanses the sleep out of eyes

honest to god

i will shut my amygdala off

because i dreamt of you last night, and i

hate it

i also hate that i take these

symbols personally:

8, 0, and %

weighted grades please,

compare it to my heavy heart

and acknowledge the fact that i am not smart enough for college

nor musically talented enough to sightread the dominant seventh scale

nor responsible enough to make it to class on time

nor beautiful enough to win attention

and finally, not immortal enough to be able to be just okay with all of the above

no

stretched out so thin,

you can see the veins, blue

and the bones, white

the stress seeping through pores

as i laugh hormones into sweet submission

sorry. i meant bitter

tip-toe life.

the tip-toe life... its a strange one. i listen to hair being crisped into curls as my one reason to curl them turns the other way. which doesn't mean a lot, i suppose. planning my future inside of little boxes, eraser in hand, because who knows? maybe i won't be good enough. no one can make me choose anything, and no one is concerned enough to truly influence my decision. so plodding on, i will push the glass door open as i am ever conscious of my fallen face, fully aware of the fact that i was born into this tip-toe life alone. "don't force it," but you don't know my voice. you don't know the reasons for my downturned eyes and callous care. after all, only in the muddled hours of the morning did i tell a story of drowning and innocence's death.

why must fate hang me out to dry like winter's laundry? my skin is beginning to sag and fade from the pressure of the skies and the ever-telling tornado.

the conductor, he sounds like tevya

the problem of evil.

i thought i had heard birds chirping through the lightning streaks of purple sky

but it was the furnace creaking as time and rust wore away at its pipes and gears

snow white.

frankly, i'd rather not

but yes please

i hold your eyes with a dusty key in the shape of a dented heart

i've asked what i need

and you're the opposite of burns and forgotten fingers

yet still everything i should not

tainted mind in a church?

hell, here i come

but before i go,

at least i'll know that i have made my mark

red, mellow, raw, and lingering

my little eyes cannot hold much,

but your ever-fleeting attention

at least for a second

silent, drawing

when i wake up in the morning,

i pray that my heart will remain in my chest

and my lungs in a place where nothing stops their heaving

never have i wished upon a shooting star

mostly because i miss them

but because i don't believe in asking

so fate, my fickle, foolhardy friend

let you cruel trick end quickly

so i may rest back into the blue

and let this verse end softly

so as not to awake my silent reason

resting, waiting, watching

if i could.

if i could solve the world's problems

if i could hush away harsh language from my brother's ears

if i could chase away stupid boys from my sister's presence

if i could spin hurricanes away from my parents' island paradise

if i could

if i could solve everything for you

if i could solve everything for me

if i could make you see the not-s0-distant future

if i could show you today isn't everything

if i could show you that you have so much to live for, breathe in, and inspire

if i could show how the world is waiting on the opposite side of your window frame

if i could pretend that all of your problems didn't make me want to solve every single one of them

if i could

if i could make you love me

if i could fix your brain

if i could fix myself

if i could be worth your time

if i could be enough

somehow, i never am for everybody that i touch

sore teeth.

so far down, anything will do. grabbing at things lost and then remembered, as if you never were and never really could be. when you lose yourself in brick walls and empty phone calls, loneliness sets in like an old friend, resting on your shoulders like a mink. all the while wondering what your name is, because it seems that even God has forgotten. you will not dress up today. the only understandable things are written words and past memories... memories that are completely separate from your life now. your pride chokes your throat shut, while your mouth pushes your frustration out. and what are you left with? sore teeth. very sore teeth.

the greatest trick ever played.

at the end of life, we find ourselves shocked at the ceasing of our breathing. did we never sense the edge of finality set against life, stretched out by the endless ticking that is Time?

we have been fooled. all of us.

we beg for the unmoving, unchangeable.

welling up with happiness for the surrounding beads of light

that scatter themselves across the velvet of my life

drowning in a sea of absolute horror

as i realize the world is getting this much older

fading tracks of winter's ruts

find themselves,

comfortably,

residing in traces of lust

set aside like notes on a table

the special find their hearts have nothing to label

fifteen pictures thus document my life

1 of an ocean

and the rest are lost

left, without a trace

as my hair fades into the divets of my shower

flowing freely

lost forever

untitled.

how does one become so lost between that tiny space

i forget what that feels like

but sore ankles and free screams against the forgiving night

that is something i remember

you wish for mirrors on your eyelids.

planted between ringing tones of protrusion and subtle notes that scream "hear me"

bring it in, don't let go of the capabilities of your mind

set loose by stinging thoughts of normality and compliance to unwritten rules

strap the buckle across ambition,

replace with inhibition

pace yourself to the sinuous feeling of settling into place

it is hard to match your shining eyes when my

bones are back at a table removed from the room, soaked in humanity

someday fabric will lightly tug against the traces of my skin,

and my fingertips will be appreciated for the thoughts they can imagine

and my fingernails thrash at cutting edge danger

waking you up from the glassy box that occupies your all

a girl of little shoes.

now that i am girl of

little shoes,

i sit

cross-legged and convinced that it

will be better in the

morning,

just like mother

used to say

melting into carpet like

spilled water

no longer appeals to the

spotlight of my

frozen eyes

entranced

lost

in the metal strings

vibrating with them

clicking against my ribs

i am an overtone

lost in the ceiling with the spotlight

for now i am a girl of little shoes,

a girl who treads

lightly where

many have been before

and after

and left

h8rs.

to know that you are not lying to yourself

what a good, good feeling

so leave your narrowed eyes and raised eyebrows outside

the ones who hate linger at doorsteps waiting to be swept away

so go away

and let me messy hair fall wherever it pleases

pleasing you is pointless

so wait outside my door frame, please

i will deal with you when my common sense freezes

the grateful life.

every prayer will start this way

thank you

for my legs born straight

my eyes, not blind

undamaged brain

teeth straight

water to drink to fill my

stomach that accepts food

clean air that can fill my lungs

my dad, alive

windows and walls

ears, oh my dear god

ears

ability to feel

accept

every prayer will start this way

thank you

for the past, cracked but whole

for the present, lovely and fearful

and for the future, lucky and open

steeples and crosses

clothes and fingers

electricity and teachers

every prayer will start this way

for loving people

safety

every prayer will start this way

thank you

allele.

the particles that hold us strong are collections of hopeless wrongs

leading us to hope and smile

then leaving us in cold denial

build it up,

break it down

muscles warm, cold, then

down

fabric of the gods.

although i find my skin breaking

and voice cracking

my body too big

and my eyes too dry

i pray for the worth that transcends me and my failures and frivolities

resulting in a worth that lasts much longer than a tear drop separating into pieces as it hits the unforgiving floor

or a letter

or even unceasing applause

rather a lifetime of virtue, wisdom, and knowledge

or whatever the ancients were getting at

for us humans who are so wise

we certainly are foolish

angles of skin pulled against fabric of the gods

clothe me with something else

i will not ask for anything but

help

recognize these waves.

drop the beats that circle me like angry birds that crave the morning snow that sticks to thin blood on the safe pavement still scares me like stairs irresponsibility does not suit me so do not pretend that i am any other color and these times are high so high so high that chopping wheels cannot reach our lofty heights so high they suffocate screeching we all drop only to catch ourselves laughing at the angry birds and the blood on the pavement as we realize we skipped the stairs

leftover.

your shadow brushed my knee

nothing higher, nothing lower

icons of the past left in

drawers rolling closed

my fingers,

un-webbed

let me swim,

reach, feel

for the present

as your wandering eyes

find my convenience for the last time

lessons learned

good forgotten

till our bodies

are left to soften

deliver your praise

although unearned

and i will drop you

soft and stern

we can't let this moment pass us by.

just a person stumbles into bed, with hopes of warmth and agreement. waiting for the world to fall into place, like a marble in a children's toy from long ago. holding hands that are meant to be held, and knowing that someday she will land like a bird after a long journey. a perfect fit.

one day i will reach the age when i don't have to look up anymore.

[no intention of rushing]

[[i promise]]

bellisima.

finds herself losing faces behind a big careless smile,

tucking away into folds of comfort and promises of the next year

and the next

and the one after that

loses the point of snowfall,

wishing that ice would not melt with a candle

dyeing the world in her own color

not letting it fade when others change her shade

revels in the alignment of paper

in order to feel some control that has become the chance of her life

sounding like a doubter

but exploring the beyond like it is for certain

bellisima

she loves the way life unfolds, unravels

but is never certain of the rules that it follows

on the brink of losing it,

until she realizes she already has

seek and ye shall find.

what do you do when your life is turned upside down? not in a way that i don't know what to do, just plans are thrown aside and i am once again scared to take the leap. scared to lose control. not believing in myself... and then realizing that nothing is holding me back but myself. "my failure is coming." maybe it is. but can i turn down the opportunity? the chance to finally believe in and prove myself? i've been given everything to succeed... but am i too scared to actually go?

all i can do is pray and wonder.

life goes crazy when you ask it to, it will flip upside down.

so she closes her eyes and takes the leap into a big black hole with nothing to grip.

society's circus.

stop with the touching

the flicks of your hair

the untouchable bruises

and suggestive stares

a girl of nineteen

should not act like that

you're losing your touch

an aged, broken acrobat

oh for a day to be unseen

a day for the peasant to become the queen

the rules she would make

the brushed are unclean

and all of this

to become the seen

just let go.

pure elation

so i ate my victory cake

chocolate, of course

it means hope

it means a future despite everything

and the only few things i could do was breathe, "thank you," cry, and slip on the pavement

i would have it no other way.

i stole the night.

the section that is mine is what i will stow away with in the night. clutching it in my arms as i throw up a silent prayer of inadequate longings, i will steal the night and run up to the only door i truly know. i fully appreciate watching movies because you can watch someone else figure out their own life. so if you're wondering where the night went, i stole it. i left it all upstairs when i stole the night from everyone and everything that has ever touched me, and all i felt like was a thief who knows nothing but the darkness when all the ties are cut and warmth rests upon me. a speechless nothing that i can fully appreciate like a movie about war--for i am the kidnapped of this world and i can do nothing to stop it but steal the night

steal the night

steal

the

night

positives and negatives.

is this all we are?

fights and worries?

every human i have heard

bickering

yelling

hurt

cant we stay inside,

and wipe away all that makes us human?

unsure if i am

here

not wanting anything, anymore

god give me a referee

a shrink

a list?

i will find a way by myself as i swim in the certainty of things that i know i do not want

and those negatives?

they will show me the positives

some say that they are a different color

lasting.

i need to discover what i need

harsh... i hope that i am sorry.

in that one moment i took all of the anger of the world and shoved it inside of my stomach and wrung it out with my hands that shook with rage.

it lasted only a second or two,

the aftershock was longer.

it hurt.

just like you used to.

why does it matter?

because i cannot overcome the hurdle,

i cannot beat you,

i cannot beat myself.

and that is why i will run,

swim,

drink,

and cleanse myself of everything that is you until i will

stop.

all i can think is that someone like me was not worth trying for.

and that hurts more than your shameless and cavalier ambience,

you fake.