Winter

Its a winter
like the one you disappeared into
Only this time,
I am hiding my face beneath sheets
like a burial
under plastered prayers

Somewhere
A girl is tearing apples
from a tree
Placing pieces of her heart up
in their stead
to attempt to make sense
of the branches emptiness
But no number of apologies
poured over its roots
Can block out the sounds they make in the night

Oh brave warrior,
You were always rushing water
I, the heavy fingertips.
These forests
they pull blood from my cheeks
and bones from my closet
I'm just calling
to stop the room from spinning

Please,
let me set these mountains down.

Your Hands

I hibernate in the creeks
That run through your palms;
Tracing parallel passages
Only gypsies can read.
Like hushed songs of hallelujah,
We make angels of quiet snow
Racing through ripples as they melt in your heat
Every word you say
makes me feel safe,
Sings me to sleep.

The Earth Just Keeps Spinning

I know a ghost who's made of trees.
I visit him with memories of when he could breathe.
He opens his mouth in hopes of rebirth
He opens his mouth but there's nothing but earth.

I know a bird who's made of stone
I visit him with memories of blood and of bone
He opens his mouth in hopes to sing
He opens his mouth but there's nothing but trees

I know a girl who's made of glass
I visit her with memories from the past
She opens her mouth in hopes of home
She opens her mouth but there's nothing but stone.

I know a boy who was made from dirt
A breath from God, he forms the earth
He opens his mouth but he's never sure.
He opens his mouth but there's nothing but her.

Happy Anniversary

There are charcoal suns
Compassionate, bewildering beasts
That stomp through corners with righteous fury.
But when put to sleep,
It is the thunder from your ocean that lulls me to meet them.
You once told me I was the light spilling between cracks in the shutter.
But I am merely
moonlight.
I may only gain my light from you.
It is the interaction of these,
that gives the world a reason to look up.

"And at Once I Knew I was not Magnificent"

I love when the streets are covered with a fresh sheet of rain
that it's that easy for the world to start all over
to become useful again
'and at once i knew i was not magnificent.'
I am fragile.
I am tangled.
I am words.
Words mean so little to me anymore

Roadways and Birds

The birds are singing at night
The buildings ask why we have built them
The flames apologize
But when i'm alone, the elements dare not stay still.
You made me promise i'd never regret it,
You made me promise I'd never regret you
But I don't, I fear the opportunity to
I fear the windows
The shadows we created on our fingertips
that retreated to your soul
I saw all.
Your eyes had contrast.
I wander across the empty expanse of highways
as veins across the contours of continental skin
I fear I'll travel them without destination
Without ever reaching what brings them to life
If I don't know who I am is it possible to love you?
but I do, I only ever think of you
I fear these insecurities
Your vices haunt me on my fragile hours
The poison asks why we drink him
The birds, they sing at night.
The skin asks why it's touched.
The lungs beg for a fight.
I fear the words I always want to say but never can.
I fear the words that I am saying but are never read.

It's just that I love you. I honestly believe I do. I believe that loving another means you think about them constantly, that when you hear a joke or see a good movie, you immediately think of their face. That you get excited when you see their name on your phone light up, and even more so when you see them approach you. I believe it is loving them regardless of what state they're in, whether they were to go bald or horribly sick, love is the still being there. It is the "good mornings" and the "sweet dreams". It is the Merry Christmases, and the Happy Forth of Julys. The stargazing, the midnight conversations, the single roses. The crying, the yelling, the hoping, the learning, the horrible, heart-wrenching pain, the questioning, the unsurity, passionate for only them, vulnerable state.
The only thing that could sever us is distance
of the body, or of the heart.
I pray that you will fight the miles that inevitably come between.
sometimes
I fear you won't.


I dreampt you left me
and took the light
This is what the birds sing in the night.

The steady rise and fall of the chest

I used to spend time dreaming
I used to feel at home
Now the world is crumbling
and the ceiling tiles groan
The resevoirs break
rushing water from broken bones
beneath the wood begin to shake
along the fissured stone

My breath manifested ghosts
Eyes hinted of broken glass
They longed to be part of the coast
Instead of rusted brass

I don't know why my eyes won't close
or why my mouth won't unlock
They must be angry I suppose
At all the thoughts I've fought

I need the static to rest
the steady rise and fall of the chest

I realize that I am not normal.
I love the sound of wind caressing the trees
just before it settles upon my skin
It's like a game of telephone nature only plays with me.
I imagine paintings that stare back from their frames-
Sculptures that get down from their pedestal and pose me in awkward positions as mannequins pass by and laugh.
I wonder sometimes as I sketch, if I am merely someone else's work of art that jumps off the page and alters them.
The painting that stares back.
The voice that you remember when a song stops-
how yours is to me.

I sometimes wonder where I will be buried
and whose voice will guide my echoic memory into a visual encoding of the celestial heavens
I wonder if what I'm doing will flash before someone else's eyes in their last moments
and if enough people have such eyelid camera lenses
that someday the snoring beast that are the people will wake to find that swing sets were always more of a home than classroom chairs, and sometimes, at least in my case, more than the seat at the dinner table.

It's like when you lose a year
to a manifested homeostasis
That maybe hell and purgatory are the only things humans can obtain by their own hands and well-wishing
That Heaven is a rare gift that is obtainable only in a reflection of another's eyes
When you see what a lover sees when they look at you
and shows you the infinite beauty of human fragility

What if all the images your eyes had held
flooded out as you passed away
and all the noises you had ever taken in
spilled down your neck in those last few seconds
I hope my parents would be proud of them,
that they'd say
"I had no idea she had been exposed to so much beauty. If only we had listened sooner."

I wonder what makes the sun come up
I imagine it's in love with the moon.
Or, like they say, the sun is made of diamonds
and the man on the moon is a greedy theif waiting for the day he finally catches the treasure.

My shoulders hurt

Sometimes I get aches in my neck.
I'm told it's because of stress.
I believe, however, that my ancestors used to have wings-
That they once lived in complete aviary freedom until settlers brought airlines and motorized vehicles, rendering their inborn traits inethical.
A few began walking amongst the wingless, being given stares only convicts would understand, like they were guilty of foreign crimes the people couldn't fathom. A desire arose in their chest that spread to their heart, and then their bodies, until one day a man awoke from a nightmare, no longer graced with the ability of flight; He had ripped off his wings in the midst of the night. The curse spread to the young woman he used to go to school with down the street, who passed it to her father, who passed it to the baker, all of whom slowly and painfully dreamed their feathers away.
The man had created a landlocked disease.
I believe this is the reason my shoulders hurt when I feel lonely.
That those same glances of the judgemental and close-minded haunt me to the point my body revolts and attempts to regrow what once allowed me to see the sun first.

Death is a Silent Ocean

I see a man.
His fists are open because they can now hold nothing,
skin spotted and cracked, in reverence to the sun.
He holds them upright, like a man in worship.
He wonders why even the wind avoids his
fingertips

I see a woman.
She still stands on the shore,
for it is not yet her time.
Each morning,
including this one
She allows the sand a hiding place
beneath her porcelain feet.
She is not yet allowed to touch the water.

The day the man
becomes a sailor.
He hears no waves, nor smells the salt.
Darkness hugs his eyelids
like a humble beast
unaware of his strength.
feeling each syllable like a flower petal
The gardens of which color his horizon
And he is free.

How easy it is to slip into the water.

To Find My Honor

You said I could find something if my fingers moved across a keyboard
You said I could dig myself out of these holes.
I wonder who first typed up the Bible
Transcribed it from a prophet's writing
i wonder if they felt God's whispers or if His personality was lost within
like mine is now
I need new words to move inside of
Why did you let me slip away?
I need them to flow carelessly from my lips
caressing ears with all they have
I need to stop waking up sweating
To stop dreaming of a figure in the mirror
that has all their faces
I need to count new stars
To capture them inside my fist
You said once you would come with me
But what if these weather vanes hold a different fate
Sirens wake us from our dreams once more
I need to hear you say you can change the wind.
Tornados are made from the whispers of God
And we say we can never hear Him.

So This is my body
Burning chest
itching heart
An armful of you
and a chaotic inner compass.
I need the things we say to come true.

Writers Block

I saw a figure in the mirror
he looked something like you
the wolves conspired to make flesh from fur
mannequin hauntings
loveless blur

An ode to storms and springtime

It was as if the angels were rushing by
brushing hair into halo sun
they were eager to start a war with the night
children's laughter, the sound of war drums

Demons fled from their holy pilgrimage
trampled over the trembling countryside
blackness became of every town and village
they were determined never to die

God was to my right hand
I peered down upon the beauty of it all
He smiled, like it was something only He could understand
A decision only He could make-to put an end to fall.

Quiet

Have you ever looked at picture and you knew that the person in it had just talked to you-that you were still a fresh memory in their mind?
And you smile because you're just so happy that you were part of their life for even a minute, or a second, because it's one second closer to them than you are now.
Then slowly sadness creeps in, the silent predator, and claws at your expression. He sees that you're still not the same, and he smiles because he knows that you'll always wonder when you'll forget. He'll reverberate in your steps and bounce off the walls that you took photographs of. He'll hide in your frames, awaiting the day you wake him up again with a flip of a page, or a click of a mouse. He'll taunt you for having nothing to show for it. He'll claw at your smile. And you'll think you deserve it, for allowing it to be a moment instead of a future.

You hush him with your inhibitions, but he claws at your smile.

"My head is spinning like that carousel"

I don't believe in light anymore
only the morning of my waking eyes
I don't believe in summer anymore
Only the trace of grass in the air you breathe
I don't believe in trust anymore
only the sound of war drums
that is my heart.
and it's much less steady than it seems.



"And it's Dark in the winter so your ideas start to sleep...
Well your head is spinning like that carousel,
And I know you're a mess after 3 or 4.
But if you make it different then we'll make our way to the surface,
And your favorite place.
Where we sit, and we breathe.
Because I know all the words and I sing you everything.
Well they're just thoughts so go ahead and speak."

Sleep in your eyes

Insomnia is for people
who stay awake
to wait for an answer
they just can't find.

Valentine

My Darling,
you are a song.
Roadtrips
the feeling I get in a corny song or movie
you make me want to write love poetry
the first thought
the calm before the storm
and after
a mystery
the rainfall
the sunlight that ends it
you are the I'll-help-any-day-or-night-if-you-ask-me-to-best friend
You are paint
Windows down
sword fights
laughter
the tears that come after
Christmas lights up all year around
superpowers
You are foreign food
You are Iceland
Ireland
Europe
The sound of a piano key
You are Sleeper 1972 and Tornado
Pupils dialating, are you nervous yet?
The idea (concept) of fire
You are red.
The sound of a carousel
Impressionist paintings
sunflower fields
looking for my earring through the leaves
You are climbing trees
swingsets
sunsets
You are parking garage roofs
Fireworkds
I'll remember this night
The body so close but untouchable
You are super smash brothers
Soul Caliber
I'll-kick-your-butt-every-time
orange-Listerine-mouth-wash-
safe-in-a-fort
boy that I love.


This world we live in, it is a beautiful and terrifying place, and I am happy I found you in it. But no matter what happens, where you go, or who you're with, I'm sure your life will always be more beautiful than terrifying. And, if you find yourself afraid to take a step or a decision, remember how I think of you. Even if I'm not around anymore. Everything will be okay in the end.

Happy Valentines Day.

If you didn't guess already, I love you.

February 02, 2011, 1:57 AM

Dear Friend, I'm so sorry to be burdening you with this. It's just that it's late, and I have things to say. I know that no one else but you understands. I know that it's been late for you, and you've had things to say. I know that like you, I don't speak fluently, and I hide behind elegant wording, and inevitable grammar. I will say this as bluntly as I can.

Confession 1:
I am sad. I don't know why I'm sad, but I am.

Confession 2:
Even though I am sad, I don't remember the last time I have cried.
Confession 3:
I would love to be able to call someone at 1:35 and have them eagerly listen. I don't remember the last time I was listened to, or cheered up. I don't know what it feels like to be cheered up.
Confession 4:
I wish I fell asleep first.
Confession 5:
I hate physical beauty, it drives people mad, but I love being called beautiful.
Confession 6:
I never feel the compliment deep enough.
Confession 7:
I can never be completely honest to people I love. I don't want them to feel stuck in my life because I need them. Confession 8:

I do. I need them.
Confession 9:
I don't believe in words. When I get scared, when words aren't enough, I get tempted to leave and start over.
Confession 10:
I miss the days when the windows were rolled down, with the boy who smiled, and waking up next to him.
Confession 11:
I haven't felt warm since.
Confession 12:

We didn't take enough pictures.

Friend, I just wish someone was awake. But no one is, and I don't know if anyone has felt the way one feels when they have something to say, and they need someone to hear. I don't know if anyone covers themselves with words, and if I am the only one who can't sleep anymore. I don't know if anyone else needs to be cheered up right now and would love to be called, or checked up on. I wonder if anyone else is sad and they don't know why, even if they have every reason to be happy. I wonder if anyone else misses summer and thinks about running away. I don't know if anyone else is sad and they don't know why.
Friend, I don't trust any of them but you.

Keep these secrets safe.

They are me.

Keep me safe.

Brail

Maybe if I could hear the melody-
And I knew that it is only audible to my species
the honest. the over passionate, lonely for I don't know what reason,
doorknob clutching, charcoal tainted souls

But we have to have something for fuel
My arms have whittled themselves into trees
that snap for verses that come spilling out
like the cadence left by dead leaves
Maybe if I could forge clicks of chess colors
I wouldn't be stuck here inside silent wool.
If I was sure of moon crescent summers
I'd whisper no more, like a deranged, timid fool

This is who i am in games, you know
eyelashes crash without a sound
Like spotlights searching on falling snow
reflecting memories that can't be found

If only stars could hear again
They used to listen to mankind
until they heard that love was blind
And if not for the lovers, why should they shine?

The Boy...

Let's just leave

We could use that blanket that's soft to the touch

and breathe in the scent of rain

Always the smell of rain

even in the sunflowers

and the fabric of night

Always the smell of rain

Learn to dance under lanterns at sea

like Anastasia fought her nightmare

so i will fight my fear

Because I'm sorry I'm a bird

I fly so quickly under threat

Always the smell of rain.

We could always smile and have water dripping off of us

Free of everything but our skin

We could be rivers together

We could drown in earth

Sprinkle flavors onto the clouds

I'd hold on to you like the rain begs to stay in the clouds

until thunder shakes it

Always the smell of rain

We could make maps stare at us in astonishment

at our bravery

They will be jealous of how much we move

How much you move me.

And how could one break your heart, When they can always smell the rain?

She says it's perfect. I say I know.

Last night my clock went out
and i lost track of time
and myself
i hated myself
blinking numbers like the blinks of my eyes,
both the quantities are still absent to me.

last night
I got lost between my phone and my bed
so i caged my wrist to both
in attempts to not fly away
I caged them with barb wired flowers

last night
i prayed to make it home alive
God save me, I have so much left to say
so i replayed the song you once cooked to
like an angel in the dashboard

last night
i was so sad
about life and death and love and the life and death of love
cursed them all beneath rushing water
The leftover mumblings of which pollute my daily eloquence





Last night
I was so afraid.

You Are My Sunshine

As if a song skips
As if a fuse was caged in my chest
inescapable
boa constrictor-mirrors
shoe laces bound to the other foot
breaking lead
sucking out the poison
voice cracking
tongue-tied ransoms
the sky weeping
stars fall, snowy rouse
it all just hurts.
you mean so much to me.
and all i have tonight is silence.
I hope you can find a sun in the dead of winter


because you are mine.
You'll never know dear how much I love you.

Yes/No.

How should this story begin

I ask myself...

Will it end with hope or uncertainty?

Will it end with perfection or mistakes?

Will it end in achievement or destruction?

Will it end up being loved or hated?

Or are they all the same thing?

Eyelashes fall out when fate takes a bow-

tips his hat under your command

But when i close my eyes, I see your face

so I rip them out to spite his hand.

The shower head sees truth

As water hits with a steady smile

scraping away our cocoons

We call our homes, our clothes and hairstyles

Stars bleed into cityscapes

Where earth and heaven collide
Loss of distinction between natural and manmade

Forces streelamps to light the suburban sky.

Picket fences and golden retrievers

to make up for separate rooms

Telephone wires and signal receivers

for songs that we forgot the tune.

So here I am upon my deathbead

for that is our everyday

And i will regret, not the things i've said

But the candor i have yet to say

When it's time for me to go

ill turn my palms to salute the sky

blindness will eat my very soul

as i test the weight of my goodbyes.

11:40

I stay up late to find answers
to hear them bubble from your lips
and simmer from the trips
your mind takes in its midnight excursions
I stay up late to hear truths
I converse with ghosts who scratch away at the walls
in the morning, I lock them out with bits of flesh
so I may walk through black halls
That i may cross the night in an ashen stand off
ten paces back, heaving shadow coughs
But shadows outline heat.
They outline concrete
stars and blood and venus and mars.
The colors proven by the dark
I stay up late to find God
to understand what nocturnal animal he has made me into
I look down to the bruises on my skin
the hushed tones He speaks in
a penny for my thoughts, and more for my actions
I stay awake to watch you go insane