there are rose bushes in my garden

looking at them i see the red and pink sunbursts of fractal-flora aspirations.

but they will never match the thorns sewn around my heart that choke me with their sweet-smelling points;

the way the petals brown and rot mere moments after being picked,

a metaphor for my fragile happiness--

fleeting, make a wish, it’s not a dandelion but it too will fly

(the way i want to soar one day). 

your back to the wall,

you are swimming in

a pool of darkness,

there is no light,

I come over from my perch

just a few seconds away

you tell me all of your problems

1 to ∞, you tell them to me

(it never stops)

I listen, but I scowl

'cause I don't understand

why you stay over there,

when there is a clear path

to the light, and you see it.

you limp [on purpose],

you cry [fake] tears.

you tell me [lies]

for what?

you tell me about how

you've got this problem

and this disadvantage

when there are people

who are dying

and you are very lucky

to have this life. 

a tornado of primordial soup / washed-up debris battered and storm-tossed

driftwood and clouds both make shapes but one is sharp and rotten

watch for rocks-- but bloody footprints will dissolve when the tide comes in

--and the ground is sand

what are the grains if not eroded strength / lightning to glass to shards once again

broken broken broken / and falling / for everything and for nothing / i’m sorry

tunnel through the earth in a child’s sandbox / they call it free-fall because it feels like flying

and what is impact if you begin with shattered bones and a bleeding heart

even through the void the breeze could make me cry / oh-so-empty

emotions like the winds of aeolus / let them go and they will hurt you

--but you must for the story to go on

tell me not to be ephemeral / you care about me more than i ever did

so i’ll hold on for you if i can

past tense is powerful when steeped in memories but tea leaves tell the future

and no pun intended but the present is a gift / an itchy knit sweater from grandma

forced to wear while choking on the ashes still to come / cut off my skin to escape

fracture at the seams and the lie too will unpeel / my world is a mercator projection

--distorted but all people ever see

the fourth dimension is time / we’re all zombies eventually so why try to be anything else

why / stare out at the ocean and be thankful for everything that is not

i want rainbow shoelaces and happiness and safety / protect me from them but mostly from myself

it stung but never bled enough to convince myself i’m alive

i want to see a tomorrow / change is made of baby steps and six word sentences

“help me fix myself / i’m sorry”

today, we are teenage girls

armed with 

flowery swimsuits, 

clunky sunglasses, 

sun-burnt cheeks and

tangled hair.

we race to the swimming hole, 

trekking through tree branches and

swatting at gnats--

adventurers, 

no 

explorers,

we joke--

and as we traverse through the blackberry vines, 

the destination peers through the leaves:

our gentle waterfall drapes over mossy rocks, 

blessing the swimming hole with snowmelt,

and suddenly we're a stampede rushing into the pool,

bare feet bouncing across boulders, 

towels tossed onto branches, 

the sweet sound of splashes and shrieks--

until the chill sinks into our system 

and suddenly we're quiet again. 

you and I are squeezed onto a rock,

half submerged, 

freckled shoulders bathing in sunlight, 

and you turn to me and tell me that 

this is where your mind goes quiet. 

for a second,

I think I see you flicker 

like a candle in the wind, 

the two of us suddenly transparent, 

and for a second we're not teenage girls anymore. 

for a second, 

we remember that we're getting older 

and we remember that we're moving away 

and we remember that this is not forever-- 

and then a fish brushes past our toes 

and you scream 

and I laugh 

and we're simply teenage girls again.  

It's scraped knees and sweat on my brow,

Flushed cheeks from running around,

A dry mouth, this time not from lying

Bare feet and hands calloused from trying.

It's fallen petals in the late spring,

A friendship promise made on a ring,

Skipping rocks and swallowing down cold water

Praying that tomorrow isn't any hotter.

It's flower crowns and wading through high grasses,

Lonely windchimes' keen and smooth sea glasses, 

It's mist in the mornings in the mountains,

Pools and salty ocean, babbling brooks and fountains.

It's the heavy, thick air of monsoon coming

The scent of rain and an almost familiar 'something,'

It's golden light slipping through the cracks in the leaves

The sunset closing, and feeling approaching night on the breeze. 

I'm aging out of this place

The same way I aged out of those old hand-me-downs

And friendship necklaces.

The same way I aged out of all my friends

and school and my favourite music.

The same way I aged out of believing in God

Or being a kid, a little girl, now gone. 

I'm lost without it, but then again, I was always lost

In this sprawling universe.

I'm like a hermit crab

Who cries with every shell they shed,

Another grade higher, another year older

And then it ends.

Scared isn't the right word, neither is sad.

Still, tears are the response that you might get.

I feel like I'm falling

Although that's nothing new.

It's weird and maybe means something

So I thought I'd tell you. 

I see you,

you tell me I can't do this

you tie me down

you tell me what I will do

you expect me to listen?

you explain to me

your rules of living

I only listen to people who have 

something good to say

you think you are in control

aren't we the same age?

you will never catch me

never

you will never be in control

before you know it

I will have slipped away

You say you wish

I could see myself the way you see me

And honestly

I couldn't agree more.

What do you see in this crumpled shell

That makes your eyes shine

And has you feeling the need to lower yourself to my level

Just to talk, offer encouragement

Say I do mean something when it's so clearly not true

What do you see 

That tells you someday I'll be grand

When my life's light flickers before our eyes

And each brittle breath drawn in

Could be a moment from the last? 

We're all shooting stars

But I'm pretty sure I'm missing the fuel,

Just check my rocket pack 

It's all empty.

And it's not them, it's me.

I know, I haven't put in the effort 

That they have 

And it occurs to me

I really should have started baling

Far before I could see the water rising.

But how was I supposed to know?

No one ever told me how these things work.

Maybe I'm slow

Too slow to catch on

If I wanted to get anywhere 

Worth getting to.

Maybe if I was meant to get anywhere

I would've already been granted that illusive knowledge.

Maybe instead of letting the fear

Eat me alive

I should've weaponized it, I should've twisted it into

That quiet rage I see in the eyes of the stars around me.

I just don't have what it takes.

We're all shooting stars,

Fighting to get to the top

And I just can't fight any more. 

I never wanted to in the first place.

We're all shooting stars,

And they're all soaring to new heights

While I slowly sink into the mire,

Choking on inky black night. 

I'm tired, I can't even bother to try clawing my way out.

What do I do now? 

Your withering gaze

Burns holes in my paper skin

Like a magnifying glass

Gathering all the carved smiles and cautious applause

And focusing them on my fragility;

You know this will break me.

And what have you done with your pain? you leer

I write, squeezing pen to paper

As if that will drive away the aching.

I write, to banish the thoughts I no longer wish

To stay with me,

Brand them with distruction's mark

And seal them in the gates of other's minds and eyes. 

I have no need for such frivolous things,

I wish to brush them aside like failed drafts;

Maybe then they will see me for the fool I am

And the pressure will release---

No longer must I pretend.  

No longer must I see myself through the eyes of others

As that tragic, fragile thing. 

If I close my eyes for long enough

I transform and no longer am I this broken thing

I saw myself as. 

I swear I’ll spend

All my life

With my bottom

Glued to my chair

Hair falling into my face and

Face close to the pages

The pages of a book

My back will hunch 

Before I’m even old

My eyes go blind

Before their time

The wrinkles around them matching

The creases on book spines

My neck will ache

Feel like I’m one hundred years

When barely a teen

But you know what

All of that will be worth

Every book

Every chapter

Every sentence

And worth

Every

Single

Word

11:43

I'm weigh/

ed down by expectations

of things going wrong, people finding out that I/

'm a disappointment, people losing their faith that I was who they thought I was

sometimes I don't know who I am, who I

think I am who do I

think I am?

I'm scared of commitment

of being a disappointment

I r/

un away

I say I take pride in being a coward

At least I take pride in being a coward

When you love yourself, they can't hurt you

I'm the only one hurting myself

I fill my head with thoughts of me hurting them (when I hurt then it hurts m/

e) and I fill and fill until it becomes inevitable and then I run away for our own good but that's li/

fe once you dig yourself deep enough you can't run away and then you're just

stuck

waiting

for the sand to cover your

face

to pour down

your throat

eyes closed

knowing

you should've known better

And then they pull you out and tell you that they love you and you think for how long and

drown

again

11:49