if i knew that time you said goodbye

was going to be the last time

i would’ve paid more attention

i would’ve noticed the way your hair

falls in front of your eyes and the

way you don’t like that it does that

i would’ve noticed the freckles

dotted across your cheeks and

the shade of pink your lips are

i would’ve memorized the look

in your eyes and the tone of your voice

i would’ve memorized the

ridges in your teeth and the way

you smile when you’re sad

i would’ve hugged you for too long

and soaked you in instead of

walking away without looking back

i would’ve said goodbye with sincerity

instead of casually like always

i would’ve told you how i was going

to miss you, and i would’ve told you

that i love you, because i don’t think

you ever figured it out

if i could back in time and do it

all over again, i would do it

all differently, so that the last time

we said goodbye would become a memory

and not something we both forgot

my parents yell at me for spilling acrylic paint on the new carpet in my room

i come home and my mom’s using a toothbrush to scrub it out and i feel sad

I say, it needed a little color.

my drains and sink pipes are clogged with art and washed down ideas

and my dad hates me for it because they need to be cleaned with bleach

but i say, they needed some life.

i close the dishwasher with my feet, open the drawers with my elbows,

and turn the lights off with my nose, and they say i’m just being an idiot

i say, i’m having some fun.

i tie my shoelaces up by putting my feet up on tables and they

raise their voices, because you’ll scratch it, you’ll ruin it

i say, i’ll show love to it.

i stain my new shirts with sweet sodas and watercolors and

they tell me now you’ve ruined it, now you need to wash it

and i say no, i’ve added some life to it.

when i’m older and i have my own house, i’m not going to

worry about fingerprints on the refrigerator or muddy paws

leading to the kitchen, fruit juice stains on the pillows

or pen and marker on the dining room table

this is what makes it a home instead of a house.

last night i had the most terrifying dream

of a beautiful party with warm lights

bright colors and laughter

champagne and soft chatter

and then the bullets flying through the air,

silent like birds spreading their wings

then me, falling in slow motion to the ground

only there was no loud thud of my corpse,

there was no pain and no blood,

i did not cry or scream, i stayed silent

my mouth twitching into that wretched smile

with those bullets lodged inside my brain

like thumbtacks on a wall

those wine glasses shattered,

those voices turned to screams,

but the party went on and on

maybe the ferocity was all in my head

i looked up to the ceiling with

those hanging chandeliers gleaming

they stepped over my cold body

as if there was nobody there

but no tears ever came, only smiles

laying in my weeping dress draped over me

i pictured my funeral and headstone

while soaking in the reality of

being in a room crowded with people

but nobody seemed to notice

i was gradually dying

I feel her affectionately ruffle my clothes,

Play with my hair.

I see her dancing in the leaves

Feel her prancing across my skin,

Leaping, bounding, rushing, surrounding, all-encompassing, flowing over me.

The sun kisses my cheeks in little glimmers,

Peaking through the leaves,

Beaming onto me,

When she permits it, of course.

The birds float miles above,

Soaring on her fingertips,

Gliding across her arms,

Prompted by her happiness,

At the mercy of her many whims.

And the leaves--

Las ojas--

Tear themselves from their wooden constraints,

Leaping from the safety of The Known,

Like baby birds from a nest,

Into her grasp.

She blows them gently,

Kissies them softly,

Hovering them mere inches from the ground

Or she arranges them in complex, instintaneous tapestries,

To be formed and dissolved in mere seconds.

I see a rabbit,

A bear,

Some sort of ball,

A bicycle.

I see her calling them,

And las hojas bound homeward,

Transfixed by her beauty,

Enthralled by newfound freedom,

Forever indebted to the Empress of the Sky.

They go to her now, as she travels South,

Her loyal subjects in tow.

Return to me soon,

My Empress

For I have tasted your joy,

Witnessed your light,

And now,

I fear,

I cannot live without you.

My thoughts are positive yet

My subconscious is negative

I try so hard to be optimistic

But deep down

I know

There is nothing to be optimistic about

All the beauty in the world is slowly fading away right in front of me

I reach out my hand to try to grab onto some of it

But all my hand touches is a cold breeze

Everything I know

Everything that is beautiful

Is slowly fading away

I wave goodbye to my sanity as it leaves with the death of our planet

Nature,

is dying

Humanity,

is fighting

My subconscious,

is crying

Yet my face,

is smiling

It was all going so great

Everything was fine

Mother was a huge success for me

I made Mother such a beautiful sight to see

She had round hips with green and blue skin

Mother gave life and a home to her children

All the children respected their Mother

However,

The children didn’t give Me the respect I deserved

This is when I created my biggest failure

I created Man

I gave the children a Cousin that had the intelligence to respect me

I don’t know happened

But Man forgot to respect Mother

They even forgot how to respect each other and their Cousins

I watch from the clouds and see Mother coughing and crying

I see bloody bodies scattered across Mother’s belly

They cloud the planet in poison

And pray for it to go away

They see poverty and violence

And pray for it to go away

They expect Me to fix everything,

even though,

They are the ones destroying everything I’ve made

Why is this happening?

Is it my fault?

I don’t know

So please Man

Fix your behavior

Because as of right now

You’re my biggest failure

eyes

your eyes were what drew me

like a piece of art

painted with all the skill of the human race

in your iris there are colors that exist nowhere else

the world is dull in comparison

your eyes hold infinities behind the glass

and when you look at me i see them too

to be held captive by your gaze

is a feeling of pure freedom

how you can choose to look at me above all else

is a mystery

but your eyes are full of such enigmatic honesties

when they say silently, i love you,

i believe them.

lips

your lips drew me next, the words from them

sparking interest, then fanning that flame

i stole glances at them for weeks

wondering what they would feel like,

taste like

now i know

they feel like the softest, freshest breath of spring

the heat of summer,

the crisp delicious autumn breeze

and comfort in the chill of winter

each kiss is a whole year, a cycle of the seasons

they taste of sugar, honey, spices

i could never starve but by distance from you

you taste otherworldly, heavenly, if you believed in such a thing

i do now, i believe in you.

when your lips say, i love you,

i say it back.

hands

your hands held me to you

before you ever touched me

fingers soft and warm with scars, proof that you build things

the strong, delicate touch of an engineer

for weeks they lingered by your sides

and mine reached out

but shyness and care kept your hands to yourself

until you were certain i wanted it

i love that about you, your gentleness and hesitancy

you didn’t take my hand, you gave me yours

and told me you were mine

i could ask for nothing else but to be yours as well

i put myself in your hands

and you made me feel safe

when your hands say, i love you,

i know you will never let me go.

you

you are not the sum of your parts

there is more to you than i could ever put into words

i am not used to being speechless

but your eyes, lips, hands

take my breath away

and breathe new air into me

you are my lungs, your love is my breath

i survived before, but now i can thrive

you are the thing i was missing

i was whole before you, but now i am

overflowing

you have taught me what love feels like

and when i say, i love you,

believe me

and know

it is you who i learned that from.

a narrow tunnel of lights outlines the ceiling

there are thousands of color combinations, you tell me

and i see every one of them in your eyes

a cat pushes the door open, curiosity in the silent padding of his paws

his scratchy voice raises a question

which we repeat back to him, mimicking his tone

he purrs contentedly as you pet him with one hand,

the other one holding me tight

as if i would ever leave

the window blinds rattle gently

like hollow wind chimes

a tree waves amiably through the flickering gaps

the world is friendlier when i’m in your arms.

i see you in the iron skies

clouds roiling with uncertainty

sunlight behind them, always hidden

but faith tells me it’s there

your eyes were the same shade of gray

exactly

and i remember the silent storms and rain they contained

your clothes were gray

your mood was gray

steely on the surface

but you hid so much from the faces turned upward down below

i see you in the baby rabbits in unkempt front yards

skinny

twitching

you were nervous, i always thought

but i never dared to ask

your shoulder blades stuck out like theirs do

sharp and unforgiven

a pat on the back would draw blood

but no one ever reached out to comfort you

you sat alone, skinny

twitching

always on the lookout for danger

the world was an unsafe place for you

i see you in skateboards on sidewalks

how could i not, you loved yours

wheels turning as quick as nerves

loud, disruptive, incompatible with

school or society

but free

boys trying to be older than they are

but looking so young

just kids

kids who want to be free

i remember your board leaning trapped in the back of the classroom

silent and ignored during tedious lessons

but never forgotten

freedom just out of reach

begging to be beneath the soles of your feet

i see you in the cracks in the pavement

imperfections showing

preyed on by harsh weather

chiseled away by those who didn’t, wouldn’t understand you

i wonder if you were ever unbroken

were you ever pure gray and perfect like everyone around you

solid in youth but

cracking under undue pressure and stress

or were you poured with a predisposition for brokenness

cracks running beneath your surface the whole time?

you live on in the weeds that sprout where they shouldn’t

thriving where man-made efforts have failed

despite everything, you remained tough

fighting to be alive

when everything around you was hard and cold

i smell you in the thick scent of weed

i see kids smoking in the bathrooms

and i fight the urge to yell a warning

be careful

it could be laced with who knows what

angel dust, a horse tranquilizer

just like yours was

it could make you believe your skin was turning orange

or that the thin gray carpet

was crawling with tiny bugs

you could need me to write your own name

because you’ve forgotten it

or at least how to grip a pencil

i wonder what you were on that night

i wonder if your dealer feels any regret

i see you in my advil bottle

you were in pain

and i did what i could to help you

the day after i heard the news

i pulled the bottle out of my bag

i held it in my palm

knowing that it had been in your palm

the last day i knew you

i untwisted the caps, mimicking the memory of your fingers

i swallowed two pills

to take away the headache from missing you

i wished i had given you more than advil

but how was i to know

your headache went much deeper than that

i see you in the steps on the west side of campus

where people who knew you better than me

spray-painted a memorial for you

“rest in paradise gianni”

the administration painted over it long before the next school year started

as if you could be erased

a stain on their perfect pain-free world

words that were a reminder

that some people are left behind

some people are grieved collectively for a few weeks

and then painted over

but i promise

you will not be forgotten

no amount of paint can erase the words tagged on the walls of our minds

rest in paradise, #gianniforever

never forget

and worst of all, i see you in train tracks

the culmination of your misery and loneliness

i hate that my most visceral memory of you

is a shaky poorly lit video

of your body being carried off the tracks

dressed in a yellow bag

the same color as the ribbons we wore that week to say, never again

a color you hated

and would never wear by choice

i hear a train’s horn and

it freezes me in my tracks, knowing

that it was the last sound you ever heard

i hate that what i remember most about you

is your end

but

i also see you in the faces of those younger than me

who felt the pain of your loss so sharply

who see the harshness and cruelty of the world

with sad eyes

and hold each other up when it gets to be too much

they remind me that suffering need not be a solitary experience

they bring me hope

hope for the present

hope for the future

hope that the world might someday be a gentler place because of them

hope that what happened to you

might never happen again

My great grandpa cut off both his thumbs using a bandsaw in a woodworking accident,

When he got his teeth pulled he refused the anesthesia,

I never met Elof, I’ll never know the sound of his voice, what kind of man he was,

But some days all I wonder is how he would cope with heartbreak,

From what I’ve heard in my Mom’s tales of his life, I don’t think his heart could break-maybe tear or bruise, but never snap or shatter, and if it did, I doubt he would feel it,

There would be no burning deep in the pit of his chest, no sound, no tears,

I think he would hear a faint sort-of bursting noise, like a popcorn kernel between his lungs or a distant whisper of cracking knuckles,

Then he would look down, shrug, and walk it off like that part of himself had never mattered,

Or maybe that’s just what he wanted the rest of my family to think,

I will never be a woodworker or someone who won’t cry at the faintest sight of a syringe,

Most days I could never refuse something to numb it all,

I’ll always have my thumbs, my teeth, my heart,

But someday I might not have you and that is just the same to me,

My family lives into their nineties-for people like you it’s rare they make it to their sixties,

You say I can ask you whatever questions I want,

So I say, “How does a compression vest work? What’s a ‘sweat test?’ How badly does the flu poison your lungs?”

When really all I wanted to ask was, “What’s your life expectancy?”

How many more decades do you have?

When I first met you, I wanted to be a writer,

I spent my days and nights sewing sentences, embroidering alliterations and synthesizing similes until my hands fell asleep and dreamed of the world I had just made,

And I still type and want to wake up the whole world as it rests under me with the sound of my keyboard clicks, but I think I want to be a doctor,

Suddenly my nights became half poetry scribbles and swarms of buzzing ideas and half researching Cystic Fibrosis, Claire Wineland, nursing internships-anything I could get my hands on,

The whole world still has its eyes shut-I have to wake it up,

I have to find a way to open you up too,

I blink and in that moment the sun rises, the moon dives back into the horizon and clouds float up and drift over us,

You’re next to me, your hands and feet making homes for themselves in the warm sand,

The old familiar sound of waves dancing at the shoreline and seagulls soaring like elegant kites fills my mind, but you take up more space in my thoughts regardless,

“This stuff saves his life, you know?” Your Mom says in her clear-cut Long Island accent,

She twirls the pill bottle in her hand and reminds you to take your enzymes while you tell her to be quiet,

On this same day I remember a knot bubbling up from the pit of my stomach when your father was telling you to, “be a man” as if you’re never expected to be anything less than perfect,

It seems like most days your Dad’s this big-teddy-bear,

So I know some days you don’t have to be older-I just never know what goes on behind closed doors,

I just hope most days you are his only son and not expected to be anything else,

And then we’re back to now, with you asking me to ask you questions after my mind found a way to replay everything that’s happened in the past year into a few short seconds,

You still have that big white-toothed smile you inherited from your parents,

No wisdom teeth, nothing missing, perfect bite-and you never had braces,

In this moment, we are the only people in this universe, so I ask about your hometown,

What did the grass smell like in Bayville? What kind of birds could you hear chirping in the early hours of daylight?

Tell me about your childhood friends, favorite elementary schools teachers, all the memories you thought were too average to ever speak of,

And I promise when you feel big, which is most days now, I’ll grow with you,

But when you feel small, so damn small,

I will shrink the Earth in the palms of my hands,

The oceans will turn to puddles-we will put on our rainboots and dance in them like children,

Every boulder will be a pebble and the tallest trees will be no larger than toothpicks,

And your illness will be a tiny thing I can keep in my back pocket,

We will make stepping stones out of Jupiter and Mars and all the stars will shake when we walk by,

Won’t that be beautiful?

To look down at that world that confined us to gravity and medication and be free cosmos-dwelling birds way out there in that perfect nothingness,

And I know we’ll never fly that high and I’m silly for thinking so,

But can we try anyway?

Let’s take a road trip, pile our money together and buy an RV,

Maybe all the time spent traveling, taking pictures and holding your hand for as long as possible will be enough,

And maybe someday it will all add up to a few decades more.

It’s scary to think the day has come

That we’re starting to get old

And leave behind these days.

We’re Rue and Jules, gazing at each other

In the purple light while the camera

Circles over our heads, under the bed

We’ve got stars plastered under our eyes

When we lie next to each other in

The middle of the night and somehow,

The air is pearlescent even after

All the light has drained from the sky.

Some nights we lie back to back

With inches of space between us

That we want to close, scrub with

An eraser until we forget it was ever there.

The essence of our youth lies in

The simple feeling of your skin on mine

When it’s cold even in the summertime

And we have nowhere to go but

Into each other’s grasp;

The ocean’s bathwater on bare skin,

The gleaming of your eyes under the moon,

Waxing and waning as we drain

The long, amber days of their honey

Until the air is as cold as your palms.

The sound of waves crashing into the shore

At sunrise swells into a crescendo.

The divine melodies play as I

Race the sun to sleep that evening.

I’ve since forgotten those sounds.

I’d drink your perfume to remember

The last summer before we grew up;

The memory of your silhouette tangled

In the sheets beside me, your soft breaths

Into my ear, the slanted beams of sunlight

Turning your skin to shimmering gold.

There’s nothing left of you in these

Brick buildings, these ghastly monuments,

Wrought iron gates and stone walkways.

New England’s full of ghosts, but

Yours is nowhere to be found.

I’ve begun to wash my home away in

Plastic cups of white wine,

Downed in two sips under the streetlights,

But nothing from a bottle gives me

The euphoria of being next to you.

They drink red wine from goblets

Sculpted from translucent glass

Wrapped in delicate chains of gold.

Her teeth are sticky, blood-red

As she licks her lips,

Tastes the bitter dew at the

Very tip of her tongue.

They stand at the edge of the balcony,

The moon spilling pale gold

Into their arms. She blinks as

It floods her eyes, studying the

Silhouettes in the dark beside her.

The misty air shocks her every pore,

Awakens her lungs. They ask,

“Where do we go after death?”

And she tilts back her head and

Waits for the last drop to trickle

Down her throat, opens her eyes

And says “right here.” She can see

Little more than the gleaming

Of their eyes, though she smiles

Through her shivers, waits for the

Cold in her limbs to permeate

The glowing warmth in her chest.

she sends me meditations

self help books

stop focusing on the bad

you’re doing it to yourself

nothing will ever get better if you don’t

think positively

take a bath

read a book

drink some tea

wash your face

chug some water

eat a vegetable

focus

on yourself

and I hear you

i do

but when I shower I cry

i scrub my skin but I am still insecure

i fill my stomach with greens but I am still hungry

i drench my intestines with water but I am still thirsty

tell me how to fill the hole that follows me around

because no amount of hot liquids and “namaste’s”

seems to do so.

a familiar blue glow illuminates my room

stomach drops

heart dances

mind races

palms perspire

a soft voice scratches as the needle reaches the end

silence floods my room

and I question what is next

what is it about a tiny gray text bubble that is so important

joy or sadness

make or break

life or death?

warm purple light glows

our skin iridescent

hot air blows from above

our hair dances around

static on our coats makes electric fuzz

the same feeling i have inside

my tongue aches from the burn

a sweet tea you dared me to try

living my life with you

however

makes a small sting seem

well,

small

concrete kisses my soles

a cool breeze sneaks in between my skin and coat

like the city was hugging me

telling me to stay

call me a local

because I don’t want to go home

your feet walk the same ground as mine

yet you are something of another

universe.

you glow and

you radiate warmth.

mimic the sun.

everyone

wants to be under your light.

you are

who i wish i was.

the immaculate

amazing

figment of my imagination.

your existence in reality

is quite unlikely.

yet i like to dream

about us meeting

as if i could look in a mirror

and see you staring back.

A door swings

She drops her bags

Go to your room

Pretend you didn’t see it

Two A.M.

I walk down the stairs

Broken glass near the bookshelf

She’s passed out again

She sits at the dinner table with me

We are both quiet

Her eyes tell a different story

They’re screaming at me

In the morning she's hunched over the countertop

I pull my sleeves down

Her glass a deep red

She crooks her neck as I pass

My tears cross my cheeks and to my chin

“I don’t love you,”

Her fist hits the table

I shiver at her words

My knees fell to the floor

My palms to my face like a bandage to a cut

She doesn’t love me

An admonishment thrown at my face

December, Christmas

Her body frail as she hold the glass

Breaking at the seams

Tension fills the air as she glances at me from afar

Those same words again

A plate flies across the room

My body hits the floor

Reality wasn’t real to me

I found shelter

Someone close knew about my situation

They provided comfort

I was safe

A week passes

I hadn’t been home since

She found me

My mouth shut in fear

She stood at the door

In that lifeless position once again

Words escaped her mouth

Something shifted

Tears rushed down her face

I proceeded with caution

“I love you,”

I fell into her embrace

The car ride back home

She gripped tightly to my hand

“I’m changing,”

That glass never touched her hand again

i guess i’ll never find out why your spotify username isn’t your real name,

or why your mom always tiptoes around the house when your dad is home.

i’ll never get to sit on your balcony with you and a lighter, watching the tiny flame spark up with purpose, as the sun sets the sky alight.

i’ll still hear your adorable rants about this strange band you found on a vinyl, but instead of at two am after i called you, anxious, about this or that, i’ll be sitting across from you, cross legged on your couch, surrounded by our friends, your gold flecked eyes watching my hands pull my sleeves down.

our skin won’t touch again, unless it’s you running your finger over the crude ink-black tattoo with a special meaning you gave me on my wrist, just to make sure it’s healed properly. honestly, i asked you for it because i wanted an excuse to sit with you at lunch.

when i cried with you on the cold, unforgiving concrete ground, you in the black suit you wore to your grandma’s funeral, me in the black dress i’ll be wearing to my cousin’s wedding, our hands intertwined for the last time, i knew that i’m going to take you to the end of time with me. that was the first and only time you ever saw me cry, even though i constantly stayed up late screaming your name into a pillow, with sobs rattling my lungs.

if i could, i would pour your soul into mine with a yellow teapot.

i never saw a lot of the real, dare i say, you, but i know that you actually like the beach and you like to draw girls and you don’t show people your real singing voice (even though it’s beautiful) and you stay up all night staring at your popcorn ceiling, plagued by unspeakable things, hoping someone will notice what’s wrong.

i noticed what’s wrong. i’m sorry.

-

i always hated roses.

i always hated the way your hands would fold to mine, begging me to stay.

i always hated the way you would drag out your signature “i don’t care but i have to pretend i do” statement: “i know you’re sad baby, i’m sorrrryyyyyyyyy.”

i always hated how we both knew you weren’t sorry.

i always hated the way you would brush me off for your convenience with the promises of adventures and kisses.

i always hated how tired i would be after staying up because you managed to get me talking, because my soul was more important than your’s & his & her’s put together.

i’ll always hate that i’ll never forget that your favorite flowers are yellow roses.

i guess i’ll always hate roses.

-

you told me once that every day we spend on this earth is another day closer to the world ending. i always think about that, which is why i try to make every day we spend together a good one, so we can both go out happy.

morbid, i know, but your laugh plays on repeat like a cassette tape in my brain.

lying on sun baked grass in the middle of a green belt, on a sunday afternoon, with not a care in the world.

you kissed my forehead and my hand slid into yours, a strong artist hand, stained with pen ink.

when you told me you haven’t been this happy in a long time, my heart expanded.

when you smiled your heart-stopping smile, i decided that if the world ended right now, i would be fine with it.

-

warm yellow light drips out of my pores like syrup.

i would get the sun for you, and hold it in my palm like a tiny ball.

i would scoop the stars out of the sky with one big sweeping motion, if you asked, of course. i know they’re your favorites.

i have a million hands, reaching out to fix shirt collars, smooth hair, flick dirt from the side of faces.

anything to make you smile, from peeling oranges to comparing palms, mine are always smaller, to letting you wear my jackets.

staying up for hours, even though i can’t function without eight hours+ of sleep, staring at a tiny box of light, trying to stop a friend from entering death’s clutches.

but when i sit in the shower at night, watching my tears mix with the water going down the drain, i wonder if they would do that for me?

i wonder if anyone would buy me flowers or bake me cookies on my birthday, even though i have spent so many dollars and sleepless nights doing the same for them.

i wonder if anyone hears the way i talk when i feel like my stomach has twisted into a gordian knot, and the only thing that comes out of my mouth is a black sludge of my own pent up fear, rage, and pain.

if they do hear anything, i wipe away their concerned frowns with a sunshine smile, and offer them a piece of the food from the bag i’m holding in my hands, so tight my knuckles are white.

i don’t have time to feel sorry for myself, i have people to protect.

I should not be running so late to class

I should be ready to write pages on peace

I should fill journals and lace em with leaves

I should send fairies to work with the top nasa space team

I just want to dance without running out of time

I will not let you take without asking

I will cut my bangs after work next week

I will get over my insecurities and reach out to those I love

I’m going to find my creative flow

I’m going to explore each crevice of life to find my true light

I’m going to be positive and passionate

I’m going to publish inspiring podcasts

I’m going to live in new places and follow life’s beauty so I can make a potion of own

I don’t make promises I can’t keep

Which is why I won’t make promises ever

And when I chase my path through those sunset clouds

I’ll drop an addy in your voicemails

I wish we flew farther out when we hijacked those planes

I wish we could live in hammocks amongst fairies

I wish you weren’t left with trauma

I wish we didn’t get swept up in the snapchat drama

I wish these dreads wouldn’t weigh down our vision

I think I should practice what I love

I don’t know much about self-respect

But this world has a way of teaching with hate

I heard there’s going to be a dope ass drum circle

Where music breathes creativity and starts leg painting rituals

There, a soul can be hypnotized back into reality

Just don't forget to drag me along

Come and try a little

Nothing is forever

Stressing just murders the precious bloom

Join a mushroom circle, kick it with the frogs

Wearing crowns, stand up high, were royalty for tonight

Shhhhh i can't hear the wispies

We were skating and yelling in russian

You flew out the driveway so I followed a little

We chased dogs past canyons and flashed west coast signs

I've never been happier these days when a concussion felt like destiny

And all of a sudden, road closed and halting screeches prevents a near crash

Now i'm learning to let go of regret over what did or did not happen

You know, sometimes i’m fake

Sometimes i forget to let in help

Sometimes I feel like my words just fall beneath the world

Sometimes I forget to say I love you

In the future I’ll have fallouts with each relationship

I will carry around sage for juju’s sake

I will have low confidence at soccer practice

I will forget to empower women right beside me

I will cave into addiction

In the future bipolarity will grow on me

In the future I’ll raise rebellious strong kids

In the future I’ll let my dreams run away for the easy route

And I’ll regret every bit of my past by age 40 when I starve beside my art showcased in a van

I will throw up in the cars of uber drivers

And forget to bring positivity around each block

I will be forgotten amongst angles and the tyrannical

I wish i could dive into calm oceans

But all i can i've been stirring is unsettling emotions

Come and try a little

Nothing is forever

Stressing out murders all the growing roots

Join a mushroom circle, kick it with the frogs

Wearing crowns, stand up high, were royalty for tonight

True history lies where the forest becomes dense

And whispers welcome us home within sweet sweet nature

The weight overbearing the ground thunder shaking.

Yet, a bubble survives

And floats up through the wall

Where the mountain sky can’t reach.

Dangerous roads ahead, don’t bother.

City lights never looked so bright,

dark nights and long flights

Can’t hide my face within the tunnel.

A tsunami fills the town to the top of the light posts

And let’s those untouched in the sky pass by.

Waves start crashing through my ears

Ringing voices

Scary choices

Stingray shuffle, don’t bother

Her words fall off the mountain,

Floating on whimsical winds

And don’t bounce in the river

As frogs and ducklings do.

They rise above rose-shaded clouds

And sound like a fairy’s castle entrance,

Where they dance around mushroom tables

And sculpt ears for the deaf

In a garden amongst Peter

Where tall grass is their sharpest weapon.

You’d think every word was a gift for this world to hold

And peace would be planted in the ever expanding soil,

Then thrown into the sea where coral reefs spawn kingdoms

And welcome travelers of every sort.

Cotton candy clouds hide within foggy skies,

While the waves beneath us sprout colors from every pocket.

After a long day of swimming along the reef

Have we become one with the dolphins yet.

I gaze just above the coast.

Bubbles enlightening us

The water rebirthing us

And this experience shining light on our future.

Responding is too complicated

Can you just jump onto my shoulders

I swear I’ll walk to the bottom of the ocean

Where swimming to the surface is barely possible

The stingrays will come out to greet us

As we share champagne with the whale sharks

Next to the burial ground of treasure chests.

We’ll see sea turtles flying over coral reefs

While seahorses shred on trombones

within a marching band that

welcomes us travelers into their kingdom.

El mar’s surface looks choppy but deep below we take shelter amongst the crabs.

We’ll leave the fish to sleep peacefully within crevices of the rock.

Amongst all this commotion my eyes don’t leave yours

And I’ll figure out why you’re just like your mom.

Nothing can hide in this light

Not the good, not the bad, and not your emotions.

Because colors never looked so vivid in the dark

And within this warmth secrets float to the surface

Because we are safe.

The water is calm-

Stagnant, to be accurate.

Our minds sing in synch without a single lip quivering

And life tricks us into thinking we can live off of the bubbles flying out from our laughs

Love doesn’t have words, I can prove it.