(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)

Prey

A puddle of indigo

Just leaked out of me

*well, that's embarrassing*

not really.

That's me.

I jumped,

and they said,

"You're Bold"

and

"You're Brave"

So I smile to cover the shame that is leaking out of me.

So it doesn't mix with the indigo.

A bit of the Atlantic finds its way to my tear ducts,

and then is has found my lips.

drip.

drop.

The music notes are green.

Such a deep green.

But when the

cobalt

that flows through my veins

to the vessels of my heart

escapes my body;

that is when I am raw.

And to Think Thursdays were my Favorite

It was a day,

when I had to remind myself,

"Nobody died. This is going to be okay. At least nobody died".

And then I tell myself,

"TomorrowisFriday TomorrowisFriday youcanmakeit TomorrowisFriday".

Except,

Then I remember that somebody did die.

Then I remember that people are always dying.

And then I remember that Friday is just one day closer to dying.

And people die on Fridays all the time.

And now, I'm not making myself feel better.

And then I think,

why should I feel good?

Everyone is dying.

Always.

My Dad is The Bird Guy

Chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee.

Bob-white, Bob-white.

Kill-deer, kill-deer, kill-deer.

Whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will.

Lil-lee-lee-lee-lee.

Lil-lee, lil-lee.

When do I get my wings?

January = ?

So I said,

"I have that same ipod."

And You said,

"What is a Snickerdoodle?"

In October.

I said,

"Want to come back for hot chocolate?"

And You said,

"I want to live in New York City."

In November.

And then I said,

"My grandma came home from the hospital last night."

And You said,

"The Bee Gee's? Really?"

In December.

We went on the swings and we went on the bus and we went in the halls and we went in the street and You said,

"I like to sing, but not in front of people."

and You said,

"You can have the rest of this, it's too chocolate-y."

and You said,

"I have read The Catcher in the Rye so many times."

And then today You leaned on me and we both smiled and I pet your flannel shirt and said,

"I like this."

Then we watched people getting hurt on that video and it was 7:10 am but we laughed and laughed.

Have You Ever Listened to Two Songs at the SAME Time?

*Smile*

*Smile*

*wave*

*wave*

*<3*

(oops I missed my cue)

*<3*

(sorry it was late)

Now how about somebody asks me how it feels lately?

You know how it feels?

There is a thunderstorm inside my stomach.

It is going CRAZY in there.

And honestly, it feels really

blehhh

and

mehhh

and

echhh

in there.

And there is thunder in my head.

and it makes it so hard to THINK with everything booming around.

And the lightning flashes in my eyes.

OVER and OVER.

Just lay off, ya know?

I'm trying to READ and stuff.

Sometimes things are so simple and nice and then the clouds start to move into my brain and they're not scary, depressing clouds, they just make it so... CLOUDY in there.

It's just...

It's just...

WHY IS THE WEATHER SO OUT OF MY CONTROL???

It Was Dark and Windy, Anyway.

Dying to dream.

Dreaming to die.

Maybe

we

should

stay

home

stay

close

and

leave

the

light

on

tonight.

Ponytail

I hugged a tree

and I was 5

and I was 13

I breathed in and I smiled

and it was then

and it is now.

The clouds move so fast sometimes.

Page after page on the calender

flip, flip, flip.

November is a car window and a rusty bike

November is bleachers

and a little hustle-

and a little -bustle

And November is harmony

and mostly air.

Counting Seconds

Coincidence and Irony and Metaphors and Humor

Look Into The Sky And An Old Man's Eyes

the

whole

world

comes

down

to

timing.

Uncelebration

Why can't my music,

drown out the noise inside my head,

tonight?

so i cried for the first time in 18 months and he cried too and then i watched him walk out my front door and down the steps and the driveway and into the street and thats when it was too dark and i turned around and something was really really wrong because the double chocolate mousse cheesecake didn't make me feel better

9 Lives Minus a Couple

first the football is kicked and the players are picked

next the ice cream melts and the rain pelts

and now a leaf falls.

and just like the colors

we can't stop the changing

and we can't stop the changing from falling

and we can't stop the falling from landing.

and i'm not the cat.

i'm not landing standing.

now apples are dropping,

from the trees,

now my stomach is dropping,

i'm weak in the knees,

and

time

marches

on.

leaves change.

decisions, decisions.

change falls.

decisions, decisions.

falling lands.

Decision.

This Can't Just Be Another One of Those Lies They Tell Little Kids

"...And they lived happily ever after.

The End."

The End.

The End.

The End.

Doesn't it echo through your head?

When you are dead,

is that when it ends?

No breath, no pulse,

no life?

or does it end,

when you

Close The Book?

But don't you take a second look?

And open it again?

Maybe it never ends.

But then all of the stories-

they would be lies.

But didn't we know that already?

Song of Seals

It's like...

When you save the perfect day

to wear you're favorite underwear,

and you laid it out on your floor the night before

(even though you never do that)

so getting out of bed

is slightly more bearable,

and you take off your pj's

they are now a lump on the floor,

as always

(I should really try to kick that habit),

Now, you step into the underwear,

*the moment we've all been waiting for*

left leg,

then right,

-this can't be rushed-

and before you continue getting dressed,

you MUST

-stop-

and soak in

how

un-

-be-

-lieve-

-ably

great

(confident!)

this

tiny

piece

of

thinly

striped

material

makesyoufeel.

the pants/shorts/skirt/leggings/(jeggings?)/whatever-else-is-in-style-these-days

must go on next

(unfortunately),

but any time that day

you

gotothebathroom

or

changeintoyoursoccershorts

or

takeashower,

you smile to yourself,

at the little

secret

you are carrying around

your ass is carrying around.

Yes, this is what it's like precisely.

Do you know the feeling?

Heart on the Wheel

In the backseat,
I want it
I want it
until it hurts.
In the backseat,
it's cozy.
it's last winter.
But-
I'm never satisfied.
The backseat,
makes my heart all
pitter-y-
patter-y.
The backseat,
it's alright.
We'll be alright.
For awhile.
But there's the
Worst Part.
The driver-
he can kick-me-out.
You-
can kick-me-right-to-the-curb.
Zoom Zoom
Bye.

Not this time.
Got my hands
and my heart
on the wheel.
Left
Right
and I drive and I drive.
But this is no better
than the backseat.
I am the driver.
Only one seat.
I am the driver.
I am alone.

This can't happen
It's my Greatest Fear.
My Greatest Fear:
This always happens
when I
Steer.

TIme Will Tell

Cry.
There's not enough time.
Cry.
Too much time has passed.
Cry.
Time is flying by.
Right now.
But time feels good.
Sometimes.
Time feels bad.
Sometimes.
But time can not be,
good,
nor bad;
it can only pass.
Time brings,
every
one,
closer to,
the end.
Does
every
one,
every
thing,
end?

After the Beginning

It's shy;
Like after the first kiss.
It's shy;
Like after the first fight.
It's shy;
Like the beginning.
If everything stayed,
a beginning,
she'd never taste the porridge.
And we'd never figure out the ending.
Is that such a bad thing?

Intructions For Us:

This sand,
it's quick.
This water,
it's cold.
This fire,
it's determined.
it's burdened.

Don't forget.

That man,
he's lonely.
That cat,
he's hungry.
That child,
he's lost his way.
he's running away.

Don't forget.

A map,
is lost.
A letter,
is burned.
A clock,
is left waiting.
is left for debating.

Don't forget.

We,
have made music.
We,
have made wishes.
We,
have made promises.
We,
have made stories.
We,
have made memories.
We,
have made each other.

Don't forget.

Please.

14 Decembers Isn't That Long

A drawn-out stare
I'm not there
but
"i don't care".
I'll change my face
You won't change your mind
because
it's love
because
it's a caterpillar.
or a polar bear.
because
it's me.
They're not here
and I'm not there
but
it's me
and they're not here.

Just because I trust you
doesn't mean i like it.
no...
Just because I trust you
doesn't mean I trust myself.

Magnet

Open
my eyes
my mouth
the door
Close
your eyes
your mouth
the door
It works like this.

Luck of the Circle of Life

A baby bird. Spirals down beautifully, helplessly, to Earth. New life, new opportunity. She thinks she will again attempt flight, to the low branch of a nearby tree. She considers trying to find the nest she jumped from, or maybe even build a new one. She thinks maybe she should forage for food, in her first search for a satisfying meal. She hopes to eventually find a mate, lay eggs, and become a mother herself. She imagines winter, migrating someplace sunny and wonderful. With her whole life ahead of her, the possibilities seem endless. But in the blink of an eye, endlessness no longer applies. Hungry Feral Cat devours Helpless Baby Bird. Surprised? Don't be. Each life is narrated by unpredictability.

The Most Miserable Game

Motivation
By desperation
Surges through the body in a single stream
of hope
But the isolation
Is too much
This twisted game
A game of pain
A game of blame
Too much to take
Too much to fake
Hopelessness, now
Runs through the veins
Hopelessness
It always rains
This miserable game
Everyone loses
In some way or another
The brain goes insane
Everyone turns on each other
It's brutal
It's sick
Living in paranoia and fear
No escape here
Year after year
A frozen tear
No escape from this game
This game of pain
The most miserable game

In a Song

Sometimes my words come out terribly wrong
And sometimes I feel like I just don't belong
But in my heart and my mind I really am strong
Now I'll let these words come out in a song

Sometimes I trip on my very own feet
And sometimes I skip when I go down the street
But it's all of these things that make me complete
I march to my own drummer's beat

Sometimes I have opinions I cannot contain
And sometimes my ideas sound a little insane
But I can feel joy and I can feel pain
And when I think, I use my heart and my brain

Sometimes I laugh when someone gets hurt
And sometimes I play in the mud and the dirt
But I'm not a tease and I'm not a flirt
Life is uncertain, so first comes dessert

Sometimes I lead a surprise tickle attack
And sometimes I'm a ninja, and dress in all black
But I can sing the alphabet forwards and back
And I'm always willing to share my snack

Now you know who I am
I'm quirky and strange
I'm a klutz and a spaz
But I won't ever change

In my own crazy world
I'll always belong
So take it or leave it
I sing my own song

Smile to Smile

A smile. Slowly curving her mouth into a graceful arch, her pink lips dancing. Spreading to her eyes, lighting up like fireworks exploding into the night sky. Her cheeks are rosy, face on fire. Maybe she's excited or nervous or embarrassed. Maybe everything.
A smile. Rapidly spreading across his face, his features light up one by one. His bright eyes shine, deeper than the Pacific Ocean. One simple look, isn't so simple. Maybe he's scared or vulnerable or just happy. Maybe everything.
Laughter. Rumbles through her chest and out her mouth like a bubbling brook on a spring afternoon.
Laughter. Pours out of him purely like single string strummed on a guitar.
Tears. Will trickle down her face. Leaving sorry trails of entanglements strewn nakedly across her cheeks. Salty drops tasting of mistakes and lessons. Will he taste them? Will he care?
Tears. Will slide down his face, so many things so overwhelmingly out of his control. Tumbling down his fiery cheeks, tasting of resentment and regrets. Will she taste them? Will she care?
Smile to smile. Dancing lips meet. Laughter to laughter. Soak up the heat. Tears to tears. Two wild hearts beat.

A Reminder from the Past

History
Spinning out of control, spinning out my life.
Out of my life
Words like a knife
Tick
Tock
Time is overrated
Complicated
I just need a second
To catch my breath

Threads

The sighing wind above our heads
The brilliant sunset; golds and reds
The graceful twisting of our threads
The threads of you and me

My body is shaking
This feeling is new
My body's still shaking
Do you feel it too?

You can lean on me
When you're lonely and blue
And a trusting embrace
Is tested and true

Now whisper all the fears that you have held in
I will hold you near
Whisper all the secrets that you've kept in
You can keep them here

Your words slip out slowly
But your heartbeat is fast
Your eyes can tell stories
Let's make this last

Electricity radiates down my spine
A glance
A touch
I'm yours
You're mine
A heart
A beat
Our threads intertwine

The Tree

Her bare feet padded along the cool, hard earth as she sprinted to her weeping willow. Her hair blew into her face and stuck to her lip, and her arms pumped as she ran faster. The sun was high in the sky, yet the breeze still left her with small goosebumps on her arms. She passed the enchanting pond, the towering pines, and finally came to a sunny clearing. When her toes felt the soft moss below her, she new she had reached her tree. She flung herself around its massive trunk, and hoisted herself up onto a sturdy branch. Her tree meant everything. Her tree meant life. It's sad, draping vines twisted around her and made her small body feel secure. As the wind danced through the branches she tipped her head up toward the sky and simply thought. Her whole lifetime was only a moment compared to the tree's life of a thousand years. The tree had experienced everything, a silent observer in times of love and loss. She ran her fingers delicately over names and hearts carved into its trunk imagining every story the tree had encountered. She gently moved her hands over the long black gash she guessed was created by a strike of lightning long ago. The tree was scarred. Still the tree stood strong. The tree would continue to stand strong. The tree could handle anything. It watched over her, as it had a thousand times to a thousand others. The tree was kind and the tree was beautiful. She admired the tree the way another child may admire an athlete or celebrity and would continue to admire the tree as she grew into a young woman. Someday it would be her turn to carve a heart into the trunk, and someday the tree would offer support when she too had lost. But for now she simply embraced the magnificent weeping willow as the sun shone upon her back and she listened to singing of the forest. She smiled. And she wept.

Heartbeat

She could feel his heart pounding steadily through his firm chest, matching her own rhythmic beat. She quickly stole a glance at his face and flushed as their eyes met. She shook slightly as electrical impulses surged through her body and her mind raced, suddenly overwhelmed. Memories and fears came in powerful waves, crashing into her fragile body knocking her down upon the cold earth. The darkness held a quiet safety, yet she drowned in vulnerability. But she thought about the consistent planet spinning through the universe then, and a calm washed over her as she pictured the gargantuan moon above. Soon their even breathing synchronized, and once again the world around her slowly disintegrated. All was silenced except the gentle pounding of his heart.