She said she liked my confidence.
What she didn't know, was it was liquid courage.
That this strong façade was cracking.

Words fall unthinkingly from my lips,
a charm for wit and a fault for aggression.
Just smile.

From someone shy to someone bold.
From someone hurt to someone who could care less.
And that's what she liked about me.

The number of faces I've spoken to,
with reckless abandon.
In hopes of sparking an interest, only to stand and leave.

These shaky hands in surgery.
Should never poke at someone's heart.

But confident.
Sure.
And thank you.

All anyone in this life seems to really want is acceptance.
The comfort in knowing someone cares about you and will protect you.
People are fickle, complicated and ephemeral in our lives.
All anyone needs is a friend.
Someone who understands you without words being twisted about.
Because words can be poisonous.
Emotional
                   unstoppable
                                        attached
                                                     capricious and afraid.
Everyone is afraid.
Friends can be family, something more or something less.
But having someone who knows you is all anyone wants.

Love is patient, love is kind.
Love is to lose your mind.
Sometimes dwindling in its trust,
sometimes overcome with lust.
Love is clever, love is lost,
will the perfect love still pay a cost?
Love has given me warmth, has held my soul,
love has left me with a hole.
In my heart.

And love is indifferent,
because I would do it all over again and again,
for love.

I imagine a long string, looping through the brain.
Purple, green and blue;
shattering and breaking through.
All the tunnels dimly lit,
and the lobby grand in height.
All the swirls and bubbles; igniting my delight.
The brain is but a flicker,
a light bulb that never rests.
Until a loop and bubble clash!
That chaos is the best.

You knew me from the second I was born.
But you never really knew me.
And I never really knew you.
What was your favorite color?
What did you think of your life?
Now all I have is the toaster strudels in the morning,
and you throwing me into the swimming pool when I was 7.
All I see is your warm eyes and smile,
and your overflowing heart.
And now that is all I need.
You are loved.
You are greatly missed.

11/12/1941 - 01/19/2014

Have you ever wanted something so badly, that you forget the
repercussions?
When you gaze into someone's eyes and can see their past.
And can imagine their future.

That vulnerability so fragile.
Putting all you have into their hands, and praying for a miracle.
That connection that breaks your heart, brings you to tears,
and that makes you feel alive.
Is that what love is?

Wanting to be so close to someone,
that you read their every thought.
Gripping that overwhelming rush that bends and shapes your soul.
Accepting all that they are.
Every single freckle, word and flaw.

Is that what love is?
A speechless hold envelops your whole being.
And shakes you from the inside.
This strange and haunting need.
That will forever captivate you and turn you back and forth,
within the soft touch of Love's hands.

Delicate lines,
You drew yourself in the corner.
Painted bars around your dreams.
Said no to in between,
Trapped yourself in the extreme.
You smudged the lines on boundaries,
You highlighted your flaws.
Nothing in this picture,
Is what you would have drawn.

It’s an art.
Hiding behind the lines.

It called to her and echoed a thousand times within her head.
Like billowing sheets for sails,
And an oak living room table for the hull,
She moved with her imagination.

This vivid picture that roared like a thousand tides upon the shore.
Like crying tears of oil that stick and stain your face.
And bubbling thoughts and doubts that change you.
She moved whether she wanted to or not.

The voice you hear within is too soft spoken.
The fears you drown are much louder.
If only this small sailboat was a submarine.

Below the surface is where she sits.

Hands claw into the wooden floor,
gripping the end in full.
Breath lost in shaking anticipation,
as fingers slip one by one.
Stop the pain.
Don't let go.
Please don't run.
Tall grass passes my eyes as I walk in the field,
where the lost hide.
Don't forget the way,
don't forget to stay.
My hope is unraveling one thread at a time,
something is shattering deep in my mind.
I'll be found.
Because a bruised heart is better,
than no heart at all.

When it doesn't sit right,
and you can't help but fidget,
and the feeling only gnaws.

Cut yourself free.
Slice through the vines that hold you.
Use the fire within,
to burn what's outside of you.

When you have to choose,
between pain and hurt and you.
Always,
choose,
*you.

I don't like sharing.
Or letting you into my space.
I have a hard time with being kind.
Judgements come naturally.
Strangers can be punchlines.
Your feelings may bother me.
I want you to like me.
But I may not like you.
My first impression of you,
Sticks even when I'm wrong.
I don't like how I am.
I've said I would change.

I haven't.
But I wish I would.

The two sat together on the ripped pleather diner booth,
eating mashed corn meal and sipping luke warm tea.
Who were they?
Dencher paste and a floral dress.
What used to be, lingering in the past like a faded sepia photograph.
Two booths behind them sit another smitten pair,
eating hamburgers, fries and sharing a Butterfinger milkshake.
Who will they be?
Laced up boots and faded blue jeans.
What's ahead of them, a mystery wrapped in a paper box, laced with a bow.
A present.
Both pairs remain in the present,
frozen in time for only a short while.
The older couple waves to the younger couple as they leave.
"See you later Grandma," the young girl says with a knowing smile.

She is my little china doll,
sitting on her shelf.
Her fragile figure delicately composed.
Her porcelain face is always smiling.

She is my little china doll.
Carefully, daintily, beautifully.

Its crazy to me.
How the ending of something can prolong itself.
How one can completely forget their reasons for a decision.
I want to be alone.
And yet I have this gnawing feeling in my stomach when I am.
I suppose it isn't the human way.
I have never been what one would call normal.
But I still have never felt like this much of an outsider.
I watch the world in front of me, and can only sometimes see my place in it.
One ending.
And just a face, a similar shirt, a  blurry photograph can bring everything back in full force.
I want to be alone.
I am independent.
But I am still waiting, to find what I've been looking for.
Consider this a hiatus in the grand scheme of things.
And cheers, to the bittersweet feelings that cloud my already fogged train of thought.
Because what would a boring normal mind be anyway.

These walls are my only protection.
Protection from people like you.
Who are gentle and kind,
who lift the corner of my lips in a smile.
The ones who slowly make their way into my heart,
who take over my thoughts with just one glance at that crooked grin.
Who hold me when I'm scared,
and play with my hands when we watch movies together.
You are one of these people.
Just look into my eyes and my breath begins to shake.
Just brush my hair behind my ear and I begin to fall.
Begin to fall in love.
These walls keep me from the heart ache.
The heart ache that people like you cause.
These walls will keep you out,
you will never get the chance to see,
me smile in the morning,
or my eyelids closing at night.
You will never see me cry,
or when I'm at my most vulnerable point.
One day these walls will tumble down.
But not for you.
Never for people like you.

An unbearable haze hangs above my face,
wraps around my neck and hugs my knees.
This heat that pulses like thick blood,
suffocating and swarming around its victim.
No raw emotion brings upon this torture, no.
Only the bubbling star that awakens the world each morning.
The fiery glow that turns the eyes to darkness,
and leaves nothing but parched dehydration to loiter in your mouth.
Welcome to the desert.

The scruff on his face tickles against my lips.
The only sound I hear is our unsteady breath,
In and out.
His fingertips send small rushes of heat throughout my entire body.
It was a crush.
Small giggles and holding hands.
His arms wrapped around me as I lean into him.
It was a crush.
And now it's much more.

I've been wrestling a beast.
Invisible at least,
or his fangs and eyes might
frighten me.

I've been dancing in the dark.
Dodging every blow,
and I fear if there'd been light,
my heart would never
slow.

And so I light a match.
And kindle what little light,
I have.
That this could finally be the spark,
that sets my life aglow.

memories can repeat,
like a catchy song on the radio.
stuck in your head,
missing some verses,
but the chorus is strong.

whiskey can help,
just for a bit.
Hoping it passes,
and biting my lip.

I guess I'll wait.

Watching his face flicker as he forms a new plan.
He is crafty, this one.
Gentle would be a good word to describe us.
A careful couple, daring adventurers.
Carefully forming something new,
something exciting.

In a blink he was there.
An unexpected blessing.
And the seas are calmed.
My heart's waters are still.

And I appear crazy now.
Speaking to butterflies.
Asking them how they managed to find a way inside.

There are too many questions that exist in this world.
There is little trust and much pain.
We are so accustomed to doing what we always do.
The same mornings, afternoons and evenings.
Where is the adventure in that?

One day you're a kid running around in the backyard,
and then, all of a sudden you are grown.
You move out of your mother's house and fend for yourself.

Do you believe something just because it's all you know?
Do you strive for deeper meaning?
Or maybe knowing more is a dangerous thing.

Who will you live with one day, and where?
What will you believe?
How will you see the world?

Everything is just one big adventure.
We can't sit back in what makes us comfortable forever.
The day will come where we try something new, hear something new, see something new.
And will you allow yourself to branch away from what has always been home?

Don't step back.
Jump.

A picture is worth a thousand words.
But a picture of you, is worth one.
*******.

No one wants to be alone.
And yet everyone needs to be,
before they can truly be together.

Taking a break from the ties and the bonds,
breathing in your own air,
learning what you want,
and what you need.

Is oh so hard,
But necessary.

Life is a very tempermental thing,
fragile in its being and lovely in its small moments of joy.
A game of give and take,
that stretches but never breaks.
No one is perfect, no one endures,
that does not tire once in a long while.
Forgiveness is a true friend,
sometimes difficult to find among the ***** combat fires.
But She is there. She is always there, waiting.
Every person that touches life, has theirs touched as well.
And how sad an untouched life would be.
An empty canvas, dreary and bitter in the sunshine of others.
Life is no stroll in the park, through gentle breezes and warm summer flowers.
Life travels in four seasons, not one has been skipped.
And so peace is found in the beginning and the end.
All must be endured.
Those who grab life by the hand with a smile,
are the ones who may truly experience all there is to offer.

We aim to prove ourselves strong and without need.
Our target is someone who we want to desire us.
Our blow is that we never desired them at all.

And the arrow may be removed from their flesh.
But the words will be branded across their mind.

And the hurt will never fade from memory.

Dry crusted rings form in the bottom of my mug.
Caffeine and cynicism rush through my blood.
The crowded streets of the Big Apple echo through my ears.
But my eyes only see one thing.

You.

No matter where I escape to from the quiet of my bed.
I'm sure I'll see you soon.

Maybe the back of an airplane headed to London,
maybe a small car driving along a cobblestone path in the rain.
Maybe free-falling towards San Diego with a parachute above me.
You always show up.

It doesn't matter how long it's been.
We always meet in the "where's Waldo" of it all.

Tonight's episode takes place in Mumbai.
See you there, P.B.

The girl I once was,
Is gone.
The body I once had,
No more.
The understanding I once had,
Has grown.
The heart I once had,
Beats louder.
The skin I once had,
Is softer.

I am brand new,
In this old body.
When a baby is born,
So is a mother.

And she was glowing.
A freshly lit candle, building in its fiery strength.

And she was fearless.
Hanging from the bridge she had not yet crossed.

And she was joyful.
Happy.
Open.

Light as a cloud.
Her happiness had never been so loud.

I've always been the woman of many jobs,
Who floats from one thing to the next.
My interests are too expansive and too small,
At once.

I always change my hair,
I frequently change my diet,
And I always change my mind.

I wish I had a passion,
Something to call my own.

And though I have my loved ones,
I'm always left alone.

Some may say I'm in a valley,
And all that's left is to climb.

But all I see is myself,
Slowly wasting time.

Congratulations on your new life.
You try so hard to be more than you.

Count the lines in your skin,
The ones drawn by the sun,
That hold you together,
That are a part of who you are.

You can escape them no more
Than you can escape your heart.

The one beating life into you.

You are you and nothing more.
And that's enough.
That's everything.

You hovered next to me,
As I glided on two wheels,
And slowly you took your hands away.

You whispered soft,
That sugar plum fairies would dance,
Through my sleeping mind.

You gave me love,
You gave me life,

You took it away.

Cold coffee sits in her cup as she watches the door eagerly.
The waitress behind the counter turns her back, and spits into a cappuccino.
Cold coffee remains on the table.
*****
She looks down at her white ceramic mug.
Deep breath. Take a sip.
*Life's a *****

Arms outstretched.
From fingertips to fingertips.
Separated by evergreens and sand.
Connected by the glimmering orb seen around the Earth.

His smile.
The way he holds you close.
His eyes watching you from so far away.
Distance is nothing but numbers on a meter stick.

I hate long distance relationships.
But I love you.

Wake up, work, repeat.
Welcome to the world.
Wake up, work, repeat.
Enjoy your stay.

Eat breakfast, eat lunch, eat dinner.
Traffic will be the death of me.
Eat breakfast, eat lunch, eat dinner.
Paperwork causes paper cuts.

Sleep, exhaustion, repeat.
Tomorrow is just another day.
Sleep, exhaustion, repeat.
I'm calling in sick...

The elegant sound of the willow as it rustles in the wind,
the gentle sound of the sea as it dives onto shore.
The silence of a darkened night lit a glow with shimmering stars.
And you darling.
All of my favorites things.

He put me into words.
All my features, all my quirks,
my taste in music, my love for sugar, my secret obsessions:
All into words.

I stare at myself.
Word after word,
each connected thought.
Thoughts about me.

He put me into words.
And now I see myself as he sees me.

I sit on a moon and smile all day long,
for my husband.
I wear tentacles on my head and dance around,
for my husband.
I have no speaking role and yet I am the star.
Georges grins from behind the lens.

Words have no meaning to me.
Their weight, their beauty, their worth,
have no value in the grand scheme of it all.
It's your actions.

We have all been lied to.
We have all said far too much, or far too little.
And it's what you do that matters.
Or in this case-

What you never did.

The smallest of day dreams can become haunting.
Anyone can call you beautiful,
but only someone can reach out the hand that saves you.
Those who look lost,
who wander without purpose.
They need someone to hand them a map,
to breathe out the light that shines their ship to shore.
Anyone can give a secret smile,
that will be wondered about for the remainder of the day.
Only someone can stop,
and say hello.

It is difficult to live in the present,
when my heart belongs in the past.
I miss my old life.
Isn't it odd how music attaches to memory?
I hear a beautiful melody,
and suddenly I am a junior in high school again.
Or dancing at winter formal with an old boyfriend.
Although I desperately want to go back,
I know that I must make new memories,
so that one day I have more songs,
to remind me of how beautiful my life has been.