My Heart Is Numb

"I love you"

That's how my life crumbled

Letters To The Almost Lovers

To the one with freckles,
Do you remember the airport? I stood there, losing salty tears to your cold bones, and your sleepy arms hugged me. But your honey lips didn't kiss me goodbye and your malicious blue eyes didn't watch me walk away. "Don't forget me." I whispered, "I won't." you replied. But you did. Three years, two months, twenty-two days and not a single word muttered between the 2,036 miles between us. Now you've given your heart to her and I'm sure she doesn't know my name. He doesn't know yours, he doesn't know how much I loved you and how much I bury you away. How much I can't stand thinking about your eyes. Eyes that left my lungs aching and heart flooding, kisses that knocked me to the floor, dizzy and sick, but I'd lean in for another. And I'm not asking if you love her (you do), I'm just asking if you ever think about us, and if you ever think it was worth it.




 To the one that knows,
Please, please, please cut these strings. They aren't connected to my fingers, I remember you all too well anyway. They're connected to my heart, they tug and heave and yank and pull leaving more cracks and bruises than I can bear. I jerk them back, but you never, ever let go. Because you know it belongs to you, you know I'd hand it over if you asked, and I know you would mend it if you wanted to. Instead, I just remain you're "maybe" girl. Not because I'm nice or pretty or laugh at all your jokes, but because you want to give your heart to me, too. Just not yet. So I wait and I let you pull me along, because you're scared too, you're scared that if you snip me free then you'll never get me to fall for you again. But I have loved you no matter what.
















And Finally,
To the wanderer,
I think you are confused. You are only a poison to me, injected into every cell and bloodstream in my body. And though you are destroying me, you are the most beautiful poison I've ever had. And sometimes I loosen all the ropes and hope the bridge will fall, but I always run across it before it does. Into your binding grip and persuasive words that drown my senses and revive my naivety. I'm fooled again, and I let your hand stay in mine again and again and again. I love you, but I can never be what you want me to be, and I can never stay content in this cage. You can't come and go as you please and expect me to remain woundless. Though I never get enough of the way you love me, so I always stay. I will always somehow be yours no matter how loud I scream for you to withdraw. I love you. I love you, forever.

Was I Too Lost To Rescue?

There is something about those damn blue eyes that I can't get over. "They're just blue." He tells me, but I see so much more. If I could count the times I've apologized, I'd hold the night sky in my hands, but even the stars boil down to nothing when it's too late to wish upon them. "I love you." I whisper, but it only hangs in the air, without ever reaching him.





My entire atmosphere stays that way, holding the words that won't ever reach more than ten feet. I won't deliver them because nothing has changed. I'm sitting here digging my grave and not sure why I keep pushing the shovel in the dirt.

I'm sorry, again.
I love you dearly.
Forget me.

She Could Have Burned A Hole In The Sky

I'm an open flame, sending sparks to the stars. I don't live at the campgrounds, but no one's calling the department because it's been raining for nearly a year. Pouring. Brilliant blues fade to warm yellows as cold bullets fall from the clouds. I was never meant to be this rebellious, without the boundaries of stones. Defining. The rain pours harder to confine, to control. Dampening the paths I begged so desperately to illuminate. The rain holds me back, reminding me to stay where it can reach so I don't burn anything too precious.

I think I'm beautiful, but honestly, I'm destructive. I only wish to breathe without turning something into dust. I'm tired of consuming things the way I have consumed myself, engulfed in flames. I'm self destructing and running out of fuel. Burning at both ends, but the rain is relentless.

I'll be ash and not even lightning will spark me. 

How To Wake Up

It's a day to day routine and although you forgot to eat breakfast this morning, you're just running through the motions.
Taking a new route to school is not the same as skipping it to go remember who you are.
And yes, education is important, but so is discovering your dreams.
You sigh at break of dawn because over the past year, you can't recall anything different.
The clock still ticks it's taunting seconds and there is still dust gathering on the mantle.
And all this time you don't feel the butterflies breaking free from the cocoons at your ribs.
Begging you to do something more.
So wake up.
Stop looking for the right brand of 2% milk so you can serve cereal at 6:47 (since you're always  running late.)
And listen to the whispers in the cracks of your heart, before it breaks.

Broken Ribs

 I wonder if the sky loves the rain so much, it hurts it let it fall.

Stability Is Not Sanity

"I'd rather have you miserable with me than happy with another guy."
"But why?"
"Because I'm a selfish bastard and I'm happy with it."

The insanity of excuses, and I could make a million for the days I didn't call. Except the one printed on to my fingertips, it's been dialed so many times. Everyone sees but no one speaks because all the flutters out of my mouth is excuses.

And it was never the thorns that cut me, it was the petals that reminded me.

I've never been here, but hold on to how it felt when I entered. Is there anything better than the illusion of perfection? Or do I fall in love with it because that's what they were?

Let me tell you the truth, I'm not pleading for any escapes. Pounding at the walls and screaming until my voice goes out was never my forte. I bite my tongue at my words because they are knives I am not prepared to use. I've seen them cut before and I still try to tend the wounds, wincing at the sight of them.

But there is a war within me, I know I've been fooled, I've been wasting away, wandering down this path too long. I love those eyes though, and the way I laugh at the words that flow from his lips. I love his hands, and the way they feel against mine. The honest question to ask, is do I know better than to stay?

"If you hate me so much why do you stay?"
"Maybe because I love you and hate it admit it."

The River Can Wash Me Away

Loosen the knots, and take your time, I know you're not a sailor. But you're sure and that's a start, these ties were never meant to stay. Each strand threaded with the days we've spent together, but the matches are waiting in their perfectly fitting box. Get to the other side, love. Here's the gasoline, pour it behind you.

You look at me one more time before the crossing and I see in those storming eyes that this is no mistake, but you take me in and kiss me anyway. A kiss that tastes like summer nights and desperation. But the moment is gone before I even open my eyes, and you're staring at me from across the gap.

Match is lit and set against the rope, it burns and cracks and sizzles. It sends sparks to the sky that disappear before me and as I look for you, you're gone. The smoke fills my lungs, but I'm used to the smell. The bridge falls, and I jump with it.

The Glasses Are Piling Up

His laughter reeks of sunlight and honeydew, eyes the color of adventure, and voice like redwood after the rain. His love is like tequila, and she craves every drop.

We Don't Have The Imagination To Play Outside Anymore

Cloudy Days Are The Good Days

Summer happened twice before he dared to voice feelings he hoped I'd dig up on my own. How could I? All my shovels are rusting in the garage. I don't go digging anymore because I'm always expecting poudretteite and end up with diamonds. He's worried he'll vanish, but how could I forget those eyes?And though his fingers were never meant to fit in mine, I hold his hand.

He's perfect for all the wrong reasons.Strength was never known to be so solid inside a tattered soul.

He's determined to shine, but little does he know the world around him is growing dim and collecting dust. The doors are closing and the keys hang on necklaces found in trinket shops. And though he won't say, he knows his heart is becoming an abandoned house with rickety stairs and boarded windows. Even the sun is reluctant to shine where hope is losing it's army.

But the stars remind him he can tear down the walls and walk away from the desolate town the freeway no longer has an exit for.

Three autumns passed before I told him I'd trade his world for mine if it could make him smile a little longer. I haven't heard him laugh for months but I've heard his words cry. And I'd like to be the sunlight that brings that back, but thirty minutes in the car is starting to feel worlds away.

Laughing At All The Right Lines

Our smiles faded in the rain

Looking back doesn't tell the future

Loving is not a simple task

Your laughter tastes like the universe

I get carried away from you

We swept the floor while daydreaming

Beneath the sky of endless dreams

Dewy trees and a mossy hammock

Little bit humble, little bit cautious

Light up the streets with sparks

Shy eyes meet an outgoing smile

I never really got over you

Words Spill Like Gasoline

Shattered, delicate fragments of memories were tossed in the pit and lit, they became ash in less than a minute, and every dragging second begged me to throw my heart in too.

Writing In Flat Tones

My inspiration has taken a scoop and hollowed me out

I haven't slept in days for missing it

I haven't had a dream

My inspiration was fooling me

And now I'm stuck in reality

A ditch of disappointing regret, scratching at my hope with every attempt to get out

My inspiration is miles away

Whispering loose fragments of lies into the wind for someone to catch with a butterfly net

But my pleads to be rescued are heard only by the walls

My inspiration is taunting me

Sending me love notes while I remain trapped

I won't sob at his words

Because inspiration left me

His Name Is Guarded, Her's Is Naive

He has the grand total of 53 sunny days in a year

She has rainstorms only after he's gone

He never told her he loves her

She has twelve freckles surrounding her collar bones, and you can see his heart in all of them

He has a temper that starts wildfires

She breathes in the flames to allow the destruction within her

Her name is written all over the walls

His is engraved into her heart

He shuts her out so he'll never know what it's like to lose her

She's too stubborn to ever give up on him

He kisses her while she sleeps so she doesn't know he's caving

She'll never leave, though all the rainy days are killing her

Wasting Away On Hollow Words

Tangled and fighting to stay awake because the fingertips along my spine are telling me it's okay to drift.

I must have.

Their spark is gone and all I have is the dim poison they left in my blood, undeniably toxic but not lethal. 

Don't torment yourself dearest, I'll survive your warm eyes and chapped lips grazing at my jaw line and ready to strike. My resistant limbs are hanging by strings and you're just putting on a show. Stuffed and bursting at the seams because I can't even choke out that I'm the one in control, but you're holding the scissors to cut me down. I don't care how high you have me off the stage, let me fall like the pennies I threw in the wells, all with the wish to forget you.

Magic failed me as much as your words, hollow and flat, used as often on me as the others perfecting their lipstick they hope to waste on your cheek. All so they can have a sip of the elixir my lungs are drowning in. So intoxicating it's suffocating and no matter how many apples I take a bite out of, I still don't find the one that slowly numbs and all at once takes away.

Trapped and begging for sleep because the shackles on my wrists are telling me I have to escape before I wither.
I must have.

Divided and Undecided

Who are you today? Heads or Tails?
Tails again, of course. The fickle side of a heavily biased coin,
And regardless of how many times I can toss it in a day, it endlessly lands on Tails.

Again.




And again.





And again.



I almost become tired of the echoing clink it makes as it clashes with the table,
But I just keep tossing, hoping for even the slightest glance at the other side.
Do I remember what it looks like? Toss.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Tails, should have known. Enough. You scream at me, the edges wearing thin. You think you're the one mistreated? Think again. All I ever get is the dark, faded, relentless Tails. Slamming against my heart the same way it does to the mahogany.

Is it courage or cowardice that tempts me to slide the coin away into my pocket and endure the burning reminder of Tails instead of leaving it to sit there and never pick it up again? Sometimes I hope you'll fall out and roll away so blame doesn't come looking for me. Then I could search for my escape, while you believe it was all your idea.

Just one more toss before you go.

You're Still Here Somehow

I thought I heard you the other day.

I didn't, because you're not here.

But if I close my eyes, I can still remember the details,

A creaky wooden chair with a country blue cushion facing the sliding glass door,

the glass is open, but the screen remains.

You're black shoes rest beneath the kitchen table,

I'm surprised they never left an imprint in the carpet there.

Thick, round glasses cover your milky eyes, 

matched with a smile that only deepens your wrinkles.

You used to sit down and pull out a cigarette,

Ashtray patiently waiting at your right, 

You would blow the smoke through the screen,

To the porch in the back,

The paint was peeling, but the garden was more important anyway.

Next was the crisp crack of a new beer can,

You're day wasn't complete without one,

And it leaves a hole to not see you with one

And it leaves a hole to not see you.

Keep Me Grounded

I remember I met you once.. Do you recall the little girl with long knotted hair and fierce innocence? I screamed in your face and you merely looked away, perhaps you're used to this.

After silence finally fell, you knelt down and told me I would be too fragile when it came the time I wanted to meet again and far too unfinished now. That we could see each other after I was whole and happy, after I would decide that I'd rather stay and never see you again.

You kissed my hand and pushed me away and I woke up with burning tears.

Let me tell you, this is not about living eternally after living devastatingly.

I am broken and hollow, but I am not weightless. So keep me grounded, I fear I might be fading away. The time has passed when I wanted to meet again so I don't know why I feel like you'll be visiting. Maybe to remind me that I don't want you anymore, but that I'm still not the picture you painted me to be to fall into your ever so welcoming arms. I still cry myself to sleep and I'm still missing the pieces that are slowly dimming, even in my memories.

The last I saw you, you wouldn't even look me in the eyes, were you ashamed? Were you feeling sorry? I don't believe you. You thought time was failing him, but did I even cross your mind as you snatched him up and carried him away. Did I even say goodbye? I'm still too bitter to know. I feel like screaming in your scornful face again, but I know you hear it all too often to recognize my anger above the others'.

Go ahead, pick me up and hold me close while I cry and kick and struggle my way out of your grip. I don't want you, don't you see that? Don't you see what you've done to me? I'm broken and hollow and becoming so weightless that it wouldn't matter if I faded away. I'm losing my grip on the ground and your heart is breaking while you watch it happen. "Hush darling," you tell me, "You'll be okay. You're not ready. I remember what I told you, but you can't keep waiting." I have no answer for you.

But I can tell you this, I can pick myself up without you. I don't need you to remind me how to live. Or how to stop living, really. I still cry myself to sleep and I still feel your kiss on my hand. I think of it and become heavy again, I feel almost whole. I don't want you. I never did, even when you told me how beautiful I am and brushed out the knots in my hair. Or when you whispered you were sorry. And definitely not when you wiped the tears from my face. So leave, and never come back. I don't want this.

Heights Never Scared Me Like Insecurities Do

It's time to break me open and strip me down,
I'm not so sure about this.


I'll have you know I'm scared to death.
No, not of death, of living.
Of being locked in the delicate cage I'm singing in,
the kind of intricate home that brings the sunlight in but doesn't let you taste it.
I'm scared of leaving though, too.
Leaving means change, and I'm no chameleon.

I'm scared of words because they cut, they define.

It is because I believe them that makes it so real?

I don't want them to take away the things that glow, the things that shine.
I lock those away and keep them safe, but the words keep waiting for the perfect time to strike.

I'm scared of judgement, of not being enough, of trying so hard and still falling short.
I'm the bird that hesitates before jumping, not because of the height, because I know I won't fly like them.
I don't bloom as a rose, but as bleeding heart.

Are you still there?
Because I'm scared to tell you more.

Hang On Tight

She sat at the window sill, poised and ready.
Waiting for him,
Poured her hope into the night, and it fell ten stories
Too tattered and beaten to fly
Too weak and fragile to try
So she slammed the window before the impact
Colliding with the floor the same time hope collided with the cement
And cried herself to sleep on the wooden panels that caught her when she landed

It's More Than Just A Thought

I seem to think about you as constantly as the clock is ticking.
Tick.
You.
Tock.
You.
Tick.
It's raining.
Tock.
Sorry, I meant you.

Sometimes I think about the past, but that's also you. The past is your cologne and hazel eyes and holding me tight when I needed you. It could be crazy that you're the one I want to be with every day, but I see that smile and I see that scowl and all I really want is to be the reason behind them. You're the reason behind mine anyway.

I've been thinking a lot actually, and it all has to do with you. Well maybe I spend a little time thinking about rose petals and cotton candy ice cream with raspberry mix-ins, sticky sweetness with a bitter aroma and it's all you. Yes, you are the addition of too much sugar to my cup of coffee, but in the way that I can't stop. I just keep pouring even after I know there is enough because I am addicted to the taste.

 I think about forever and I think about always and how the two coincide because when I'm thinking about you they seem real. As real as the rain that was falling down while we walked around the block with a small black umbrella you had kept in the car, just in case. As real as the wax that stained the blanket we laid on, listening to songs I didn't know yet.

I could try to distract myself from thinking about you, I could think about the dance I went to with him, the way he treated me and how dinner was full of conversation. I could think about the fight I got in with her, leaving the house only to walk ten minutes away. I could think about being tricked by a text leaving class so I could break down. I could think about myself. But it all leads back to you.

You're the biggest part of me.
This is for you, because all I think about is you.
Tick.
You.

Dandelions and Stardust

I still make wishes because it's my stolen moment of a dream come true,

My opportunity at a 'what if...'

My most desperate hopes live inside the wind that carries the dandelion seeds away

They sway so gracefully, as if I haven't just cast my desires upon them.

And the moment seems to linger, but eventually it is over.

I smile, falling into the grass to make shapes out of clouds while I wonder if it will come true.

It doesn't, but I keep wishing, just in case.

Is It Too Soon To Say Perfect?

I'll say it in the simplest way I can

With you I meet a rush of the most incomprehensible feeling.
It stops the beating of an off beat drum and turns it into uproar of exciting rhythm,
Twists the corners of chapped lips into a smile I don't recall having before.
It gives the kind of chills only found laying in a dewy field in the dead heat of July,
The kind of hope you salvage only for shooting stars after all the wells have come up dry.

And it all floods the walls I constructed after my mistakes,
Crumbling them so quickly, it's breath taking, in the dauntingly beautiful kind of way.
It reveals the things I can only tell in whispers,
The insecurities I swore to conquer and bury away.
I'm becoming the me I thought I'd never discover.

But I'm not scared, simply because you're the one that makes me feel this,
The butterflies that dissolve just in time to crave them again,
The knots that come just before I have my hand in yours.
It's the same simple happiness I capture in blowing bubbles,
Yet the same unpredictability as where lightning might strike the ground.



Perhaps it's called love

You're Still My Hero

Go ahead, have another drink, see if I notice.

Pour just half a glass more and throw the bottle away.

And focus your wary stare anywhere but me,

Because you know I'm angry, angry that you would open up these scars again.

You think I'm so invincible that I don't feel them,

Or maybe it's that I'm pathetic enough to prove I can't get over them.

But time didn't heal my memory like whiskey did yours.

So excuse me if I hate that you defend the choice that collapsed me.

Buried parts of me so deep, I'm scared I'll never see them again,

The parts of me that screamed and fought and cried and didn't care.

As you said, you made me who I am.

Now I'm as broken as you are, and just as good at hiding it.

Only I don't need to burn my heart with a bitter taste to keep on living.

Do you hate that I'm still stronger than you?

Maybe I Was Programmed This Way

I am broken.

Broken by words repeating themselves over and over in my head. 

As if they are my personal life source, yet they seem to be the only thing killing me.

I am uncertain.

Perhaps that's why I repeat the things I said I'd learn from,

And then question why I didn't listen.

I am rebellious.

In the small ways, at least,

Like slurping down a milkshake in the dead of a winter afternoon storm.
Or slipping in an extra line to break the structure.

I am a dreamer.

Wishing on stars and dandelions for the things that seem impossible,

But that I still have hope for.

I am contradictory.

A stubborn pushover in my arguments.

And simply complicated in my thoughts.

I am excitable.
Finding happiness in the small things about life,
Like watching sparklers throw a shower of light to the asphalt.

I am thoughtful.
Wanting to change things out of my control,
To fix things that are far too lost.

I am defensive.
Defensive over nearly everything, even the things that shouldn't matter.
Just to try and prove myself to people who shouldn't affect me.

I am human.
Plagued with flaws and insecurities,
but no robot could dream to be my kind of perfection, in fact, robots can't dream at all.

Intro

I am effortlessly me, nothing else.