stains-on-myheart

dear sky scrapers, neon street lamps, and Coca-Cola billboards: could you please shut up? what happened to simple like the country when electricity meant indoor sinks and tiny light bulbs illuminating dusty pantries in the dark when the air smelled like Evergreen trees all year round, not just in December when humans decided it was creative to chop them down and put them in our living rooms for a week or two. simple like the mornings after snowfall with fresh blankets of white to keep the city quiet please, stop trying to melt it all away. simple like family dinners and happy thanksgivings when I didn't have to count up the nu

If you crawl underneath my covers on a brightly lit city night, shut your eyes and it feels like you're running away. if you look outside the window: there should be stars in the sky but there are none. why has the moon thrown them all away? maybe the moon has run out of glue and can't afford to paste the little stars up anymore or maybe he's done pretending that his sky is beautiful when really it's just black. maybe I should let him borrow my tape because when everything is so sad down here it would be nice to see something sparkle once and a while. but if I give him my tape my glue I'll surely fall apart again and the

hush hush now as we go under dropping below the waves together in a purple submarine, we'll sink and I'll cover your ears until the ocean water silences the fighting up on shore. hush hush now and we'll sing songs to drown out all the shouting. you can sing melody and I'll be the harmony that keeps you from floating away. hush hush now listen to my lullaby, who needs mommy and daddy when we have each other? hush hush now I'll tuck you in and kiss you goodnight but you'll turn away and I'll ask why. "because every time i kiss goodnight I am left alone." don't worry little baby, I will stay here forever in this ocean

Christmas means frostbitten faces and windblown hair it means plane rides, airports, stuffy smoky taxi cabs. Ella and Louis were right when they said: Baby, It's Cold Outside but no one is here to call me baby and it's getting colder. Christmas means uncomfortable ice-skates, awkward family reunions, guilt-ridden hot chocolate and swollen winter jackets. Christmas means trying to smile. Daddies holding blank video-cameras wondering why his little angel won't turn to look. Christmas means laughing, giggling, hugging, kissing – secretly crying, starving, missing. Dear God: let me melt into a puddle on the floor so that

if water could dance: they were leaping twirling and jumping re-running their routines over and over. but they shouldn't have been dancing- I wanted them to fall because it looked like they were falling. and they should have been ugly, ugly like the tangled mess of insides they escaped from. but I could feel them dancing, teasing me. they were beautiful. I was not.

Self confidence, find me. Could you hold me for a while? Maybe shed a tear or two Let me absorb you. Let me fall between your arms and Stay There. Be my home; my shelter. Protect me. Because without you I'm naked. Without you I'm scared. And for now I'll stay Ashamed waiting for You to come Pick Me Up.

Dear Mom, I don't really know how it started. When it started. Why it started. But oh Mom, have you really shut your eyes so tight that you can't even tell? I guess I tried too hard to live up to everyone's expectations. Dad's expectations. Your expectations. My expectations. Perfection. Dear Mom, I like to think I'm writing this because I know you'll never read it. Because even though you've received a degree in psychology, I think you've failed to notice the obvious. Didn't you realize? Every time you mentioned to your friends: my grades, my voice, my jobs, my accomplishments. Didn't you see the bruises you left? You made me out to be s

rain washing us closer together, pushing us further apart. wading in the syrup we've created, leaves drenched and sticky attempt to tape us back together again falling softly across our flesh and the sky continues to ooze drops of red blue and all of the above, rolling over the ragged bumps dropping into the valleys we created between the curves of our bodies. and they keep falling through a mixture of all that was and will forever be even when I'm sorry- forever is lost, and everything falls in the end.

inside her there’s a gaping hole that’s longing to be filled inside her there’s a broken heart that’s screaming to be killed she remembers the touch the feel of his hands she remembers how he collected the strands the roaring pounding pumps through her veins don’t want to remember the pain the stains never thought that at this age she could feel such a ripping desperate rage but now we return, for he is gone, to this new road that she has turned on back to the hole that’s growing inside she’s found one way for the pain to subside she’s tried the tears the smoke the blade but

a hidden message, a coiled scroll, stuffed into a tinted flask. floating out in the powder blue sea, I wish you would take off the mask. usually, when I look in their eyes: an open book, no disguise. but when I fall into your cocoa hands, I’m blocked by this wall I don’t understand. like burnt chocolate, I return singed, my bones and my mind left unhinged. I’m trying to read you, give me the key. I think that I need you, why can’t you need me? avoiding my stare, why don’t you see the fragmented pieces of my heart’s debris. but it’s not your fault you’re causing this pain. I wa