The performance is over

the curtain has been open for years
isolation from myself
an audience, waiting for me to dance
"Dance, baby, dance!"
they love to watch me
squirm
programs scattered on the sidewalk
"Dance, you fool, dance!"
heavy footprints on my heart
saliva of my lovers
coated with dirt and loathing
"Beautiful girl, why have you stopped dancing?"
I see myself exit stage left
and I clap
I'm the only one still clapping for her
Go home, everybody
Go home

A formal thank you

The security is almost… unnerving. Something so wonderful, so unexplainably foreign, that I’m reaching out to touch it - but it doesn’t go anywhere. It’s just as soft as it looks. No, no, no; softer. It’s touching my face, it’s following me, it’s hidden in my innermost thoughts. I’m satisfied, I’m uplifted, I’m radiating everything I’ve ever begged to feel. 

"Every cell in our entire body is replaced every seven years. One day, I will have a body that you have never touched." 

A newborn, a blank sheet of paper, a young woman. A beautiful, talented young woman, looking for recognition. That’s all she ever wanted: to be recognized, and appreciated. 

Colors are vivid, sunshine is bright, and kisses are sweet. You’ll never know how much you hurt me - but in the end, I want to thank you. You may have a slight idea of how much damage you did; but you’ll never have any clue about how much you really helped me. 

You made me realize my own worth. You made me realize everything I’ve ever hated in a person - everything I never want to see in another human being. And most importantly, you helped me learn what exactly love is - and certainly what it is not. 

The mornings

My left eye explores,

my right eye


She slumbers


A big, burly bear 


The mornings


Tick, tick, tick


I tip-toe


Around your feelings 


The mornings 


Trash from last night


My yellow roses,

staring back at me


Rolling over


The mornings


Wishing every minute


Of every day


Could be


The mornings

Valentine's Day 2014

The wine crept through my veins. I sat at the kitchen table, glass-in-hand, watching him. Bruno Mars serenaded us. I wiggled my toes, wondering about our future.

"Like this?" He asked, smiling at me. He pointed to my egg.

"Yes," I said, admiring him. His smile radiated an essence that I had only experienced a handful of times. A consciousness easily comparable to the few most important sensations in my life; the light in my niece’s eyes when she recognizes my voice, or the smell of Katie’s Velvet Sugar perfume.  

He finished cooking the bacon, cursed a bit, and turned the oven off. I squirmed in my seat, writhing with contentment. A perfect man, cooking the perfect meal. I felt like a princess. With him, I always felt like a princess. 

As he drowned his eggs in hot sauce, interestingly enough, I imagined spending the rest of my life with him. The scenarios that ran through my mind didn’t scare me - they were comforting. 

I saw a princess, becoming a queen. Thick, brown hair, turning grey. Hospital bills, late nights, dancing in the kitchen, an Aussie, two kids, and a different bouquet of flowers each year. 

I saw everything I’ve ever wanted. 

How does it feel

to be nothing but a poem 


a few measly words

strewn across this page

Running

My entire life, I’ve been running. 

Running away from everything that terrifies me. I’ve avoided so many internal conflicts, it’s torn me to pieces. 

I imagine myself in the same situation, every time:

I’m running. It’s hot. So fucking hot. 
I can feel the beads of sweat crawling down my temples, under my arms, between my blistering toes. I’m running, still running, as fast as I possibly can. My chest feels tight, I can barely breathe, but I don’t stop - I can’t stop. 

The landscape around me is completely barren. The only thing I can see is the golden-brown haze, miles and miles of it. Cliffs all around me, jagged rocks, mirages so tempting, I’m thirsty. I want to stop, I want to breathe, but I can’t end up like the others. I won’t step off of the beaten path before me. I refuse. 

I am all alone. 

The wind blows against my skin, but it does not relieve me as wind should - the warm breeze throws hot sand into my eyes, and my face stings with regret. I should’ve stopped, I think, I should’ve stopped. 

I look behind me, still moving forward, and suddenly, it stops. My feet are no longer treading dirt and sand. I’m falling, I realize. Oh shit, I’m falling. 

My vision is filled with blue, all blue. Nothing but this big, beautiful, sublimity of the most genuine blue I’ve ever encountered. I lose my stomach. My arms feel weightless against the open air. I can’t breathe at all, but I don’t notice, nor do I need to. The resisting breeze hits my sweat like ice, and I’m freezing. I’m so cold, and it feels so nice. 

I’m out of the desert. I can’t make out anything below me. I don’t see the ground. I don’t see trees, I don’t see birds, I don’t see any signs of life. 

I’m okay with it. 

I close my eyes and let the wind whirl my hair around my motionless body, thinking, I don’t know. I don’t know anything, anymore. 

When I finally hit the water, it doesn’t sting. It submerges me. 

I never knew, I realize. I never knew.

You make me feel

the way I’ve been aching to feel for years


my idea of her was a distant theory

and only that; a theory

carefree, with a dash of sass

an ounce of innocence 

in a pool of wisdom

the smile in her father

dancing across a sea of enemies

hope, faith in others

more importantly, myself

I’m finally lifting my chin

opening my eyes

looking forward

I can see the skylight

the snow stings the tops of my feet

you’re finally next to me

grabbing my hand

and I can feel everything


I can finally feel again