would, could, should... can we?

He feeds his smiles through the holes in my atmosphere, 

balances my soul on the tips of his cringed fingers; 

& I'm so hesitant to relax his bones, 

for fear of his hands letting go.

I feel so effortlessly balanced,

as if I've been twirled into a new galaxy,

& even his sharpest words are my landing spots. 

That suffocated planet i spend so much time in: 

he takes me by the waist, by my hands & by the heart...

 and suddenly, I breathe so easily within the tightest embrace, 

because I'm in his arms. 

If I could play the instrument to his heart, 

I'd memorize the beat & retrace my steps within it... 

& I'd find me in them, and listen to it over & over; 

just to remind me that, 

I am so loved 

by the most exquisite soul I could ever find in this world. 

Can I be taught, how to build? So I can build a staircase to the highest extent of my love, & scream the sight of it down to you?

(These pieces hold no endings, because they are a continuous flow; I could never end something about someone I still have so much time to discover.)

baby blue.

send me a breeze, baby blue
maybe i'll swim on that love, to
her speckle-dust cobwebs
fingerstemmed
in her skin
(tinting my feathered heart)
with a mosaic smile,
shards of a past) she screams,
"stay a while,


baby blue"
long enough to hold her frozen hands,
kicking at the ashes
sift.
sift through*
breaststroke through the debri


i caught your smile,
and fed it to,
the holes in her heart
wearing her
in
out*
in & out.

overflowing.

I have these ongoing fears that will possibly, quite possibly destroy me andtheystartfromoneittybittythoughtandcontinueandcontinueandgrowandgrowuntiltheyexplodeinmyvioletwordsmyredbloodedscreamsandimgoingtodrivehimawayiknowiwill. 

i'm a blotched, redpenned, overworked, overthrought rough draft. 

that's it. finito.

describing the indescribable

tracing the spine, basements, corners & cracks of my heart,

you'll discover bruised sidewalks,

skyscraper memories,

hallways that lead to my summer skin,

winter's breath; freezing to the touch & warm to the taste

and a lost & found love.

i am....
light on my toes because he sweeps me off of my feet, 

a weightless heart, because i'm not the one in possession of it, 

a full mind, because he's never too far away from my thoughts, 

and... shining eyes, because his love hides right behind them

i wish i could lock this love, freeze it in a steel cage,

because my truest fear is its escape. 

time(less)

Lately, I've been three steps away 
from snapping at the person on my left or right side.  
I've been a pull & a push away 
from somersaulting off of the day of the week, 
I've been a grimace, pout & glare away 
from emptying my lungs and flaring
like the lightning that's been tugging on my heels these past few days.

& maybe, maybe I have... 

I've been bothered, you see... 

 by the looks, the judgements, the preconceived notions, 

If everyone could spend a few minutes, an hour or two a week...

setting their eyes to the channel WIDE OPEN, 

& maybe, maybe be a child for just a few minutes

Remember? When you were caught in the headlights

every time you saw something new,

something so trite, so little but it changed your perception, 

& maybe, maybe you could see what I see. 

Maybe you could open your heart, open your mind,

if you just open your eyes.

I used to be that girl, who had it all figured out; who had locked her mind up because she had simply seen it all. There was no need to see the Great Wall of China, I had spend enough time staring at the blindingly white walls in my room. No need to see another river, weren't puddles enough? 

No need to believe anything other then what I already did. 

But then I tuned my eyes, 

took a spin around the moon, 

& flew through something new...

but the one thing my squinted eyes were set on,

was the belief that it took years to truly know if you loved someone

Then, just another day... I let my feet get lost in vocal chords,

I shut my judgements away

& I learned something new.

You should try it sometime,

Life isn't always answered as you believe it to be. 

So, listen. 

What if a guy got stuck waiting for an airplane, at some rundown airport. 

All of the hotels were booked & it would be just a few hours before he could get on the next one. 

What if a girl were stuck in the same airport? Just a few hours,

twiddling her thumbs to the elevator music as the rain beat down

the airplanes that weren't for her. 

& They met... They met, & they stayed together for those three hours. Let's say, they let themselves be vulnerable for those few hours, let's say they unlocked the keys to their twisted hearts, optimistic/pessimistic/empty brain... & they let that other person in. The guy and the girl each spoke about their dreams, they chuckled at the same jokes... & her laugh managed to send a shiver up his knotted spine every time he cracked a not-so-impressive joke in her direction. What if the graze of his fingers on her arm as he went to refill his coffee made her warm inside, made her heart speed hummingbird-wild? & after just three hours, she thought... "Wow, he's special." 

& after just three or four hours, he thought "Wow, this girl... she's something,

something I could love,

someone I could give my heart to..." 

What if their minds were OPEN to love, 

and even though they didn't have years of time, they just had hours, 

maybe they didn't have all of the knowledge & the wisdom about each other,

what if their unlocked hearts could have let someone in?

What if they had discovered their definition of time(less) love?

So then, as all things come to an end, they took each other's numbers down, 

and boarded different planes, went on with their separate lives. Though he smiled 

as he thought of the way the sun hit the side of her cheek when the clouds had finally parted

& she thought about the way her eyes locked on to his as he told her his dreams,

dreams so beautiful she'd never sought to find them in any of her clouds. 

& then that guy, the young undiscovered human being, passed away.

One second he was steady dreaming,

& the next the plane lost its control,

spun out, 

and he was no longer a dreamer, a lover, a believer.

Are you going to tell that girl that she didn't lose the guy she loved?

Are you going to tell me that her heart, fully open to his, wasn't broken?

Maybe I'm crazy, maybe I'm hopeless, 
or maybe I'm just open.

don't need navigation, just follow the lengths in your eyes

My head is a little heavy, 

But my heart is light,

even while fluttering as quickly & delicately as a hummingbird's wings 

my mind is floating between comfort & calm,

& my body is spent, but holds a sense of possession I usually have trouble finding. 

I've learned more then a few things through my trivial and tragic arguments, fights, broken hearts, memories, smiles, laughter and tears. But the one thing that's been traveling behind my eyesight like the sun seems to on a blistering day... is this:

Don't let yourself pull and tug at your anxiety over the decisions you know you have already made.

One often leans toward questioning their decisions

because their rubiks-cubed mind is twisting itself into

a downward spiral of regret and doubt,

but if you peer close into the keyhole to your heart,

you'll see that you've already said yes before you uttered the words,

and if you peer even closer,

if you squint one eye and turn your head a few degrees,

you'll see... you can't ever change your mind about what your heart chooses,

even if the past is screaming no, the future is... sighing at the hopefulness it feels.

I won't edit this, whatever I said was brimming at the boiling surface of my heart.

It was a beautiful day today,

did you let your eyelids flutter closed to the exquisite sky?

or did you open them, just for the hope of spotting something special,

& witnessed the day as effortlessly as it was created?

I hope you did, because truly,

our days are timeless.

Then I have those days, when I walk on the edge of the sidewalk.

I feel as if leeches have been thriving in my heart these past few days, 

sucking it of all its energy, & patience. 

But they haven't done their job, 

all they've left is the remains of a charcoal heart. 

"I'm sorry for who I can be, I'm so sorry"... 

I feel like saying that to everyone who has crossed my path these past few days.

I've resorted to quick judgements, snappy replies & a growing impatience for just about everything and everyone. 

I don't want to be this person anymore, but the monster that licks my spine & haunts my mind, 

I don't control it, I can't control it. 

I see her, giving me all of the advice I need, 

listening to my endless worries as I drown her with my fears

& insecurities

& trite, unnecessary complaints. 

And today, I realized I forgot the last time I asked her how she was,

and actually listened. 

"I'm sorry for who I can be, I'm so sorry"

 I see him, trying so hard to make me happy, 

& all I do is throw bitter words & the past back at him. 

For every pull, I give a push. 

"I'm sorry for who I can be, I'm so sorry" 

I'm so tired of myself, I'm so repulsed by the poison-fanged monster. 

I am happy. 

I am impatient.

I have energy.

I am drained.

What do you see, when you look in the mirror?

& What do I see?

I wouldn't know, 
I can't look myself in the eyes for more then a few minutes, 

for fear of seeing something 
I've managed to hide with the dust I paint over my pupils. 

This isn't me, 

Usually, I'm floating at the edge of happiness, and  hanging off of the cliff of ecstasy. 

& sometimes... sometimes, I'm edging around the corners of the labyrinth in my spirit. 

Always, tip-toeing at the spine of something new, 

but never truly there.

And now, I am.... buried, in air. So how do I unbury myself from something so intangible? 

 I've just seem to have misplaced me somewhere between 

exhaustion 

impatience 

& fear.

Maybe, I'm just tired. 

If you have a solution,

a snap of your fingers or a twirl of a wand,

for a boost of soul-energy.

A wheatgrass shot to the spirit,

let me know. 

been so long since my feet felt the ground

Don't ever wish for... depression.

don't think that depression loosens your chains on creativity, 
and don't believe for a second that the pain you drown yourself in will leave you feeling... unique. 

"everyone wants to be fucked up. but when you actually are, you'd give anything to be happy again."

depression is every manifestation of the greater forces of life.

it is the wind that takes you up by the hairs on your skin, 
spiraling your mind out from its hiding place in your body,  & thrashes you 
back and forth, dragging you across the pebble memories. 


it is the fire that burns your hope like acid, 
that tears up your world from the inside-out, 
leaving a trail of ashes in its wake. 


it is the earth, a planet based on the concept of gravity- 
a forced destined to keep you stable, to hold you down by your roots; 
but our knowledge has taught us differently, our knowledge taught us 
that the gravity that pushes us down... we twist it, 
we make it capable of plunging us six feet under. the earth. 




& it's the... water, the rivers, the salty sea water that stays 
permeated in our pores for hours after our return from the beach. 
 it's the freshest, purest water we take sips of to wash down the hidden
solvents to our demons. 




if there is anything i regret in my sixteen years, it's letting myself drown in the most shallow pond.  
a pond so shallow, you can see its depth from the surface. 
because that's what depression forces you to succumb to.
to... absolutely nothing. 

i am nothing. hear me roar.

become something, create something, love something, push something, 

pull something, grow something, make something, 

imagine something, sing something, 

write something, 

BE SOMETHING.

before you are nothing. 

steady

Days like these...

I want to catch every morsel dripping from the sky

& swallow it whole, because as easily as they come,

they just as easily disappear.

Rainy sundays, lazy sundays, why have you crawled into my monday?

As delicate as dandelions

as fragile as the foam,
dancing on the spine of your wave
spiral stepping into the
hollowed sand of your palm


this is unfinished, but i like you.

Will you still love me in the morning?

There's something so frightening about the word 'unconditional'.

(Unconditional love is a term that means to love someone regardless of one's actions or beliefs.

It is the kind of love that expects nothing back, places no limits, and does not set any ideals or conditions on what it should be.
When you love in this way you do it without expectation of reciprocity and with no preconceived notions of how or if they will express love back to you.

Quite simply, unconditional love is love without conditions. It is love without requiring anything in return, love no matter what. )

Without... condition. I had that, I have that, I'll always have that. It's a gift I was blessed with.
He leaves my heart boiling over with passion, sincerity... & effortless happiness. But just as quickly, he freezes my heart over & drops it from the clouds I painted for him. He drags my love across the sharpest gravel, & just as easily sweeps me off of my limbs and crushes my disdain.... and then it's there...

powdered smiles;
so easily given, so easily blown away.

I could never describe to you what he's given to me, or what he took away. 

I could never paint a picture for you, of what I see when I look at him, 

of what I find when he gives me the tiniest piece of his heart.

Because there aren't enough colors in the world to depict his pain. A pain I've stared into, a pain I've pulled, tugged and pushed at just for the attempt to destroy it. There aren't enough colors to stain a canvas because there will never be enough 

blues in the ocean,

greens in the trees or 

reds in the vein of one's past... 

to show you, what I've found in the center of his eyes. 

Whenever I look past the surface, 

my breath catches in my throat with a hollowed shiver because for just a second, 

my love's roots continue to stem onto another cracked sidewalk, 

 my heart throbs with the shock of... the unconditional.  

There is not enough shade to structure the bones I've traced over countless times, to structure the arms that have held me delicately, effortlessly, firmly... & without hesitation. Do you know what it is, to memorize the notches of a lover's spine? Or to... dig up your heart from where he's buried it... only to give it right back to him?

 Because it never really belonged to me, my soul, my bones, my heart.

I was made, to be given away.

I was born to love, whether I was born to love him,

I don't know, I'll never know.
But I do, just as the sun rises every morning, & just as the moon
peaks out from its hidden spot in the sky,
my love is never absent.
That's unconditional.
Gravel love, frozen heart
I love you.

"It's never gonna be 
normal, you and me... 
what you're signing on for is a storm, at sea
so if you think you're tough, 
give me all your love
& I'll give you every little piece of me"

lately my hands, they don't feel like mine

"my eyes been stung with dust and blind,
held you in my arms one time, lost you just the same. "

i miss the naivety of being young,
i miss walking in on my loved ones,
glassy eyed & lost,
& it never crossed my mind that they were... losing.
it never crossed my mind that their broken bodies
were being beaten down by their controlled self-abuse.
it never occurred to me that their cancer,
was a tumor they painted into their skulls.

if i could...

i would have dripped water on to their paintings

and washed and recycled the colors...
into something that warmed them,
that loved them,
that found them.
could i have saved you?
could i have sing-song-sung a perfect sonnet,
would my watercoloured attempts be enough?

Your screaming lullabye taught me how to breathe, how to love,

and... how to see. You forced my fluttered eyelids to shock themselves wide open,
& like the feeling of diving into the bliss of the morning's searing sunlight,
I could never be blind again. 

But the one thing i'm blind to, will destroy me. The one thing I can't force my eyelids open to, for fear of the thrashing rain stinging them dry... is me, & what i've done, & who i've become.
Find me. I'm here. Stacked in the shelves of your lullabye.

It could, should, would have been me. Will it, be me?

The green in our eyes flecked two of the same,
wish, wash your pain away.

"jolene, i ain't about to go straight. it's too late.
i found myself face down in the ditch, booze in my hair,
blood on my lips."

I despise hope, 

because... 

Hope makes you believe the ashes that have been carefully blown into the cluttered 

trunk of your heartbeat.... will maybe, just maybe disintegrate under his touch. It makes you withdraw yourself from the reality of what is, & send you 

plunging 

into the deep, lightless, disgusting unknown of what could be. I used to think I was so much better off in my clouded head, taking my nerves & my mind into the abyss of the darkest corners of dreaming. 

& there, within my heavy head, balancing on weightless wings, I could breathe easy. 

I had fooled myself; I dreamt so pretty and lived so ugly. 

Now, I live so ugly and dream so empty.

Currently listening: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IUGzY-ihqWc

MAKE ME

push, at my nerves

until i can't feel my bones

tug, at the tips of my fingers

until i spiral down the rabbit hole

pull, at the strings of my heart 

until my brittle breath can beat him away

 

hold, 

me together,

while i fall apart.

don't be so cruel. 

"do you remember, 

    she promised to love you?"

pull me out of the water.

I am created from the creations of other individuals.

I am newspaper scraps, shitty lyrics and...

pieces.

Lately, I've become repulsed by myself. I pick up faces,

and put them on. I stretch words out, step inside of them

& come out feeling... different.

But I'm not any different. 

I'm just you, I'm everyone... 

But why can't I, be me?

Whoever she is... 

Wake her up, I beg you.

She might still be in here.

But she is drowning.