she lives in a world of fiction, a universe of twisted truths and romanticized realities;

she’s a girl who lives hidden away behind book covers, in between italicized fairytales;

the clamor of society is drowned out by the lullabies of literature, by

the poetry and the prose to which she ever-so-tightly clings;

she falls in love twice a day, and once more in

the night, scrawling half-forgotten daydreams on her yellow walls

before they slip away, sand in between her fingers

pounded into castles, castles that will never crumble,

will they? with time, ignorance becomes insufficient,

imagination an illness, and dreams the

dust that has settled over

her right-side brain,

the sandy ashes

of her

soul

The sky looks almost metallic from where I lie in the damp grass, like mercury

He lies beside me, blue eyes aimed upward like mine, a silhouette of perfection

We often find our eyes to the setting sky, searching it long, desperately

Never once finding it, whatever it is, making sadness fill us again

His eyes study me now, they do that sometimes, reading me

I wonder what he sees, does his mind show her?

Or does he see me instead? Broken and lonely

I know his heart rests not with me

Like his hand rests gently on mine

My heart rests elsewhere as well

I wish I loved him

I wish to lie

But I can’t

His hand

Tightens

Every day is a good day when I wake up and see your smiling face

even when the smile is somewhat weak, the troubles deep, you are with me

although our bodies slow but steady decay give lie to our ageless feel

and the days behind are far greater than those that await us

we still have walks to take, sunrises and sunsets to share

hikes up mountains, swims in the sea, late-night star gazing

meals to make, cookies to bake, hot cocoa days

wrapped in blankets or entwined on the couch

drifting off to sleep, hand in hand

as I hope it will be

with that last conscious moment

as we two slip

from this existence

to, perhaps,

infinity.

painted the window all the colors of my rainbow, left the ones that don’t matter;

first loves are hand-sewn disasters; bare hands can only collect so much glass after,

but my writer’s heart used fractured light from broken dreams to create poetry;

only shared with those who cherished worded cadavers, they’re a favored scarcity,

that’s when i found you, the silent collector of rewritten histories;

you made constellations out of my sharded stars; so easily,

it seems your praising me slowly rebuilt my fickle

dignity; so tell me, how’d you find me?

no, leave the heavens to assure me;

just note my love of receiving,

and the thank yous stumbling,

from my chapped audacity,

so utterly unbecoming;

yet, never

enough.

at the beginning i wasn't sure what it was my vision was blurred maybe because

i didn't want to see what was painfully obvious but it was something that

i had been avoiding for years i knew it was there but kept

pushing it away thinking that shoving it into the back of my

mind but one day i couldn't take it anymore so i

let it in & at first it did hurt it

hurt so much but eventually i healed i burned

but it was the most beautiful kind of

fire red & orange & yellow ribbons

sparks & feathers my tears were

liquid gold & i knew

in that moment i

finally knew that

i was

alive

her eyes reflected sky when she spoke: nothing ever happens the way it’s supposed to

she never looked at me when she got metaphysical, but I looked at her.

i could hear her voice now, disapproving, that’s not the right word jo

but i didn’t care when she laid with me under the stars,

the tops of our heads touched and i felt little shivers

run down my neck and shoulders and pierce my heart

over and over and over again, my pupils dilating

i wonder if she shivers when we touch

you cold? she asks, lifting her head

eyes closed, i pretend to sleep

she settles back into me

i sigh in relief

just us two

under stars

together.

Shattered, my heart became from the pain you thought was right to give to me.

Agony, I lived through day and day because I truly wanted to be yours.

Trapped inside myself, to afraid to run away from you and be free.

Confused and Dumb, How can I let you treat me this way?

Broken promises to change your ways and show me real love.

Blinded from the person I once knew and wanted back.

What did I do to deserve all this cruelty?

Look at me, really look into my eyes.

Can you not see what your doing?

Your Queen, your love but how?

Shattered, broken pieces scattered around.

Suicidal thoughts, easy escape.

No more pain.

Free me.

Shattered!

There is a universe inside my soul, yearning to burst forth in every moment here.

There are stars in my eyes, shining shyly, shedding light on the pieces shared.

There is a wind in my mind, whispering ideas and always making music.

There is fire in my heart, burning quietly with sparkling blue flame.

Rejoice! The entirety of this world lays bare before me now.

Possibilities stretch out before my feet as my endless road.

My words can move mountains and shake stony hearts.

My words can ease Atlas's weary weight but,

I have so much to do now,

And so little time to use.

Hopefully my universe sets fire

To other dreaming hearts.

Sorry, I've run

Out of

Time.

I was once lost, wandering the earth aimlessly and reaching for a hand to hold.

A blindfold covered my eyes, my mouth was sewn shut, forbiding all my cries.

I stumbled alone through the forest, catching myself every time I should fall.

Creeping closer and closer to a pit, I was destined to fall.

And I did just that. I lost my footing and plummeted.

Down and down I fell, begging God to have mercy.

What I didn’t know, was, there you were waiting.

You waited for me to come to view,

And you caught me, held me tight,

And eventually, whispered, I’ve got you.

It was true, you did.

You had me there,

Whispering the words,

I love

You.

Screams I recognized as harrowed pleas were little more than inconveniences to the outside world

Which slept on in steady stupor, chests rising and falling still, amidst our chaos

The chaos of heat and light; the chaos of the chance of death

Because while you were sleeping soundly, we were dying, trapped, acutely unaware

Of the single marble slate tipped over, the domino that was

A tiny blue flame, come solely to tear us apart;

And it did, as sniffles became screams, but never

Did those screams morph into sirens or safety—

The comforting stream of a water hose—

Because you, with Not My Mother

You were shouting, but differently

Both of us on

Fire, but only

Your flames

Killed.