Human Scales

If I were fish,

then I would would swim and swim all through the night.

If I were a fish,

I would make love to an octopus, and hope he wouldn't eat me, or ink me, just to see what we could create.

If I were a fish,

I would breathe like a superhero and zig and zag between the teeth of whale because I would be invincibly vulnerable and I would be cute like the goldfish my best friend won at the fair and I would be fierce like a piranha, fiercer than Tyra Banks, and I would take so many goddamn chances I would be right next to Nemo swimming up to that boat and then eventually I would swim into the open mouth of a shark because what are the chances of a fish like me surviving anyway and only the good die young.

Window and a Tall Mirror

Shout like the lightning on your skin

for the millions of readers that just thought of Harry Potter and

for the millions of bedroom poets trying to find something.

something

deeper

something

more

something

real.

Shout like the daisy on your tongue

growing faster than you can keep up with.

stumbling on words

experimenting with words

experimenting

with the boy in your basement and the girl in the nighttime car still hanging secret on your lips like the crescent moon still hanging in the indigo sky.

Shout like the paint exploding onto the canvas onto the walls

the walls in your brain

the walls in your heart

paint them down like the Berlin wall

paint them down

until it rains.

Catch a raindrop in your eye

and then maybe you can see

the colors running together because they were never meant to be apart

because the clock and the music note cannot coexist

because this world is our childhood coloring book-

paint over the lines.

Shout like the man that gets taken to the zoo

and taken to the playground

because they do not realize he is an adult

because they do not know about

respect

like he does and

shout for the person that wakes up in a cloud and

shout for the person that can't sing out loud,

and shout for the person staring back at the crowd

because he is not a she and she is not a he,

and they are just people,

or dragonflies,

tired of the staring.

Shout like the boy that walks in on his sister kneeling over the toilet, finger down her throat

and shout like salty tears he still remembers how to cry.

Shout like the girl

for the day she realized her veins were the chains holding back the bird,

she finds the school bathroom on her 16th birthday to cut the chains so the bird can fly.

Shout like the Titanic hitting the iceberg

hitting his heart

when he realized he would never see another sunrise and the sparkle in his wife's eyes.

Shout like death

Shout louder like life

Shout like the millions of bedroom poets

writing their world on their closet doors

the words come too fast

too strong,

all I get down is a single line:

I dive under the water and I stay there until the screaming of my lungs reminds my brain that I am human.

(I actually posted this at exactly midnight, I don't know why it's a few minutes off)

1 year

525,600 minutes

enough time

enough blood

to flood the oceans

solo

if we

tango

through the

jello

you can be a

hero

and i'll wear a

halo

then maybe i will

let go

but maybe not;

uh-oh.

Recognizing the First Steps of Rejection

HUM

is a little tune,

like singing,

but with your mouth closed.

HUMan

is a mammal,

that eats and drinks, usually,

and has lots of feelings.

HUMane

is a good way to be,

like compassionate and kind,

kind of like my mom.

HUMiliation

is HUMming too loud and at the wrong time but

HUMiliation

is HUMan and

HUMiliation

still happens to really HUMane people.

and also humiliation is really just trying too hard maybe you know what i mean

hummmmm.

Baby Willow

I can be shallow

and I can be sad.

I can sit on my bed,

in the safe darkness of my room,

and hug my knees to my chest

trying to lose myself in the music and the words

because I feel like I'm slipping.

I can sit on the grass,

cross-legged with my best friends,

getting high on August air

laughing so hard that I can't squeeze my hands into fists

and it hurts my abs from yesterday's workout.

I can sit in the woods,

by myself,

and think by the waterfall

of the big things in the world and also of the small things

and know that I'm connected to it all.

I can sit with my grandpa,

and learn about race horses,

and about buying low and selling high

and sports and culture and kindness and the big picture,

and mostly about life.

I can sit under a full moon,

or in a pile of snow,

and I can feel 5 years old and 15 years old and 100 years old

but no matter how old I am

there is still so much to figure out.

But I can stand up,

for what I believe in, and who I believe in,

because I do believe,

in people, and in science, and in nature, and the in world,

and also, I believe in myself.

I can be shallow

and I can be sad.

I think if you read my poems you might understand.

Miles

I taste each word.

I savor each sentence.

The wit

The grace

The thought

HowWhy?

(am I still holding on to this)

I think with my brain and I feel with my heart

(just like everyone else)

but

(it's not like everyone else)

because...

(i'm not everyone else)

i mix the present with the memories into an odd brilliant package like nothing i've ever known before.

And my mom gives me a small sympathetic smile as i sink on to the floor and put my hands on my head and say

"whywhywhywhywhywhywhy?"

(does it have to be like this)

(is this so beautiful)