oh take me away 
from this cold empty world 
on a ship that's made of hope 
sails of alabaster, guide me past 
 this land of plastic air
​for I wish to be 
a mystic being 
not  packaged 
and put on a shelf. 

No longer shall I be pretty and pink
but with a black crown on my head 
steering my ship with confident ease 
 a smirk on my beautiful face. 

and my curves that you taped so neatly 
shall guide me along 
the dark sea below  ...

    I have always been good at seeing both sides of the story. Always had my own opinion, but always listened to the opinion of others. Most people can’t do that.
    But then there was this time I was on a road trip, at a gas station filling up the car. These people were five steps at most from the trash can but instead they rolled down their window and threw their plastic out of it.
    That is the one thing...

i am not perfection
i am not intelligent
i am not beautiful
i am not you

why must i fit into a painful jail
that punishes me whether 
i succeed or fail
why must i abide to boundaries 
where i am judged by the
unknown not memories
why must i let you mold me
to be loved, for when it is 
you who cannot see

if this is supposed to be life
then i dont want to live
how can...

Her temple is what she calls it
and it is perhaps so.
For by its side, she worships her faith and
cries out her pain. By its side,
she begs for salvation she could never attain.
 
Delicate yarn swirls the reddest Indian red.
Reminiscent of a sunset she unmistakably recalls
fragrant like the spring,
she now has lost; trapped in
an endless winter, she can never escape.
 
River sewn with precious sapphires,
flowers crafted with the milkiest pearls. ...

sometimes, i believe that i am unlike any other.
listening to that swelling violin is all it takes to stir it all up. all the heaviest moons and big, windy places and deepest colors: a whole world of possibility lives in my chest (right between my ribs). 
the crescendo is my spark every time. the anticipation, the rising power. i feel the strings’ static tremble off my hands, in my appetite. 
so i learned to play the violin. 
to be...

The world seems to improve each day
But that is just illusion;
You need to understand
A different conclusion

People suffer right and left
Lies are told, vows are broken
People rarely take the time; 
And live their lives unspoken

Kind actions go un-acted
And hello's go unsaid
I wish I could say otherwise
But too many tears have been shed.

All these seem so depressing,
But there's something you can do
You can wave and say "Hello,
I'm having...

i look in the mirror
glass deceives me,
the girl looking back
mocks me and laughs
reassures me that i'm hideous
the repetition in reactions
over and over
starting to believe the words 
telling me i'll never be beautiful
i know it annoys you
that i can't simply say thank you
when you compliment me
no matter how many times you reassure me i'm
as you would say "brilliant"
i know i'm not
it simply can't change
what i believe to...

the eyes may be the window to the soul
but if that is really true (and i don't know that it is)
one thing that i do know is this:
his eyes were shuttered, blinds squeezed tight
he no daylight in.

all the hard times, the fun times, the strange times,
i thought i knew, i really did,
but inside his soul is no walk in the park,
no, behind those curtains is turmoil,
apocalyptic and dark.

i broke the reflective surface ...

Who are we as Homosapiens and why are we here?
Why were we created for the earth if all do is pillage and rape her?
What are we doing here and where are we heading in the near future?
When are we going to realize our actions are costly to the point of no return?
How are we "intelligent" if all we bring is decimation and tears?

Who is human but enjoys the animal massacre known as “hunting trips?”
Why...

i mean maybe, only maybe, it would be possible to not consider at all the things i loved:
    the white winds of Northern America (may they always stay in the minds of those blessed) but also
    the green fields of California.
let the sun bear down upon the hot barren lands of Texas, (no desserts are sweeter than the desert itself after all) but i was sufficiently calmed, after arriving. the elegant oaks of my forest home made it so after...

I bit into celery
peanut butter memories stuck in my throat
ants on a log at mosquito camp
dried up raisins, in the sun too long.
 
78% water
forgotten, boring, so bendable, breakable
tastes like split nails on a soiled chalkboard
filled with one syllable vocabulary words.
 
Yet The desperate put us in hot beef flesh
Their soups, Their stirring pot of plans
or on cold plates, beheaded, disgusting
 
Stringy, we struggle down Their dry throats 
Useful,...

The Darkness in the Light

The day began as May 25th, nothing out of the ordinary
The sun woke up, its beams bursting brightly, permeating across the sky
Birds Chirping, Trees Singing their last goodbye
Every young boy and girl waking up with a sigh
Unaware of the unity of the nation, getting ready to die
Every nook and corner of the country, filled with light and brightness
Groups of children laughing, for some it being the last day of...

Behind.
Lost.
Apathetic.
Dejected.

At the bottom of the ocean,
Only darkness surrounds me.
Its weight burdens my shoulders, suffocating my life-giving breath.
I see no end to this ruthless cycle of pain.

Things I used to care about,
I love no longer.
Things I used to succeed at,
I now fail.

Life passes me by while I stand in sorrow.
The direction I had in the past contrasts my now-haywire compass.
The ever growing weight crushes my soul.
Is...

The many things we know
How many do we not?
From oceans to the core;
The furthest star out far;
There's always something new.

Each and ev'ry work of art
Hidden from our eyes,
Will go unnoticed still
For many years to come,
Out of reach, hard to find.

These works of brilliance,
These many hidden gems,
Inconspicuous, undiscovered,
Wondrous masterpieces
Thriving, hiding still.

anywhere and everywhere,
inside, outside, upside, downside.
instilling wonder, sealed away.
knowledge unknown,
hidden every day.

...

The many things we know
How many do we not?
From oceans to the core;
The furthest star out far;
There's always something new.

Each and ev'ry work of art
Hidden from our eyes,
Will go unnoticed still
For many years to come,
Out of reach, hard to find.

These works of brilliance,
These many hidden gems,
Inconspicuous, undiscovered,
Wondrous masterpieces
Thriving, hiding still.

anywhere and everywhere,
inside, outside, upside, downside.
instilling wonder, sealed away.
knowledge unknown,
hidden every day.

...

    We demand an apology from those who came before, shaking our misery at them with war-torn eyes. The pieces of history they gave us are whirlwinds of responsibility, and condemnation is second nature as we reflect dread off of our trembling shoulders. But what if we stopped pointing our fingers? What if we respected the battles they fought? What if we opened our arms and said, "Thank you. Thank you for being here first. My heart may be...

People don’t sing and dance like they used to
My generation is a warning of what it could do to you
We must stop or we will make a mistake
A mistake that will be too late to unmake 
At parties, we can’t even talk to one another
Because we’re too busy thinking what we should post or in what color
On public transport, we sit alone 
I guarantee you will see everyone with a phone or a wire attached...

I sat down and read. 
Read all the almost seamless concinnity of the jumbled words written on the white parchment, 
the letters constellating in my mind while I’m piecing the composed puzzle together.
I bury myself in anticipation as the plot unfolds and unveils the mystery 
I've been waiting for all this time.
 The suspense rushing through my veins like rapid waters,
 I can almost feel the sensations of the character in front of me,
 the adrenaline coursing through their...

Behind.
Lost.
Apathetic.
Dejected.

At the bottom of the ocean,
Only darkness surrounds me.
Its weight burdens my shoulders, suffocating my life-giving breath.
I see no end to this ruthless cycle of pain.

Things I used to care about,
I love no longer.
Things I used to succeed at,
I now fail.

Life passes me by while I stand in sorrow.
The direction I had in the past contrasts my now-haywire compass.
The ever growing weight crushes my soul.
Is...

Behind.
Lost.
Apathetic.
Dejected.

At the bottom of the ocean,
Only darkness surrounds me.
Its weight burdens my shoulders, suffocating my life-giving breath.
I see no end to this ruthless cycle of pain.

Things I used to care about,
I love no longer.
Things I used to succeed at,
I now fail.

Life passes me by while I stand in sorrow.
The direction I had in the past contrasts my now-haywire compass.
The ever growing weight crushes my soul.
Is...

a girl with 
eyes  
as big as  
the laughing midnight  
moon,  
whose vision  
expands  
from rolling ocean shore  
to  
rolling 
ocean  
shore,  
looks around 
at the big, 
big world  
and sees the things  
we simply cannot.  
 
she looks at 
a patch of dirt  
after a  
storm, covered in  
dots and dimples,  
and sees a  
thousand birds,  
feathers so full and 
black,  
eyes beady with 
hunger, 
beaks as  
bright as the  
midday sun.  
they peck holes in 
the ground  
to find worms  
galore.   ...

You need not worry.
She places her hand in my palm and
squeezes tight. 
Then she lets go. 
Her hands were warm, 
but not all warmth alleviates. 
Her words seep through me like I’m 
a piece of paper trying to resist a 
hurricane. 
Or a fire.

It’s August, and we can’t go outside
because the air is
unsafe. 
This is supposed to come in October.
But it’s August, and
we’re burning. 

They may shut our water off,
she says.
Why? ...

When the world has lost its colour and my stomach could not be fuller.
Blind me.

Blind me so I would be able to feel 
With heightened senses and foreign fingertips
Let me run them in the hairs of my lover yet see him as a stranger
Let my open palm rest on the dip of my chest 
Let it rise and fall with my heart, seeing in its desperation life unveiled

Blind me so that I would not only...