Budding with excitement and seemingly pointless fear,
but I held a new life in my hands shown through a *** of all my savings.
My eyes dart wildly in awe of all the different cars,
big ones, small ones, new ones, and foreign ones.
Everyone smiled at us - the dealers and the other buyers who walked out with
shiny, new vessels as if it were nothing.
Nobody knew this was our fifth dealership, even we pretended to lose count
maybe this time we’ll leave with something.
I know they can see how badly I yearn for a car of my very own
that I can say is mine,
that I worked for it,
that I can watch age through the years.

Multiple eyes glisten under the scalding lights
with hooded lids like a blood-thirsty spider stalking its prey

Yelling in the spotlight where the words fail to come out
locked behind gates of enamel shaking in the cold, wet dark

Full-fledged failure alerts the signal which forms
salt soaking stains against the burning, red hot flesh

Empty and alone, unaccepted and frozen like the
scrawny polar bear that wasn’t good enough to be the mate

Annihilation takes its course through the inside
resembling a death-eating disease stealthily flowing through veins

Reduced to nothing more than a fast-fading memory
gone as fast as a rollercoaster disappearing into the loud, tight tunnel

Silence that used to be comforting now is as deafening
as a tree falling in the middle of the forest, but nobody is around

cheeks fill with the fiery heat of an embarrassing fire
eyes close so tightly a pounding ache sprouts from the skull
teeth lock together and lips bleed the more they fight to stay closed
hands press and are drenched in soaking salt as they hide the guilty pain
ears strain at the sound of stupid love songs mixed with ugly cries
lungs struggle to catch a breathe feeling like they’re running faster than they should be
heart alone in its shallow shaft knowing that it shouldn’t be sad when it feels so much love

But the head knows it was better to suffer now than to bleed all over a white dress.

Dying Sun

Warmth on my eyelids welcomes a new day
and you, create a reflection against my skin
pink carnations sit on the window sill
soaking up the sun, but desperately begging for water
I kiss you gently and grab the vase
my fingertips brush against you while the birds wish us good morning
I remember how much you loved the pink carnations when we got them
your soft, delicate hands so gently pouring water into the glass
the crinkles by your eyes because you were so happy
and because it was always too sunny by that window
you didn’t care though, sun made you smile
so even when the birds stop singing
or the carnations begin to die around you
I know that the sun will make you smile.

I know you’re scared,
What is it, the 4th school now?
Time to make new friends just to probably leave them again.

You’ll be mad about it soon,
I mean, why wouldn’t you be?
Soon you’ll be overcome with dread each time the alarm rings.

For the first time, you’re shy,
How can you be shy after all this time?
You’ve had to do this more times than most this isn’t hard.

So you’re the new kid,
It’s a nickname you know well, right?
Trust me, it’s better than nicknames you’ll be called later.

I’m not trying to scare you,
Isn’t it obvious I only want the best for me?
Don’t forget how strong you are and what you’ve already accomplished.

Keep your head up, kid,
Do you really think life won’t get better?
Well, I can tell you first hand that this isn’t even that bad.

But it will shape you,
Just remember that at least, okay?
This 14-year-old hell won’t be nearly as tragic 9 years later.

As midnight strikes, I wage wars
with invisible enemies
that will never breach
your side of the snow globe.
And you'll wake like my nightmares
are your dream catchers.
You'll wake and catch sunlight,
dew drops and morning air.
You are in the bubble of where
good things still happen.
You are where
I am not.

And sometimes I still wonder
how you get the better
end of the bargain,
while I only get nostalgia,
unhealthy coping mechanisms
and nuclear explosion
barren spaces in my heart.

I can't see past old horizons
and what's stuck ticking restlessly
on blank canvas walls
has always been a marker
dividing my present
from yours.

i am broken
like a carousel off its axis;
lost,
because I have to figure out how to fix this
shattered mind
with no blueprints for what a stable one looks like;
hopeless,
in a world that shoves happiness and recovery
down my throat anyway;
someone
who lives only for the sake of others
those who mistakenly believe i can be saved;
soulless,
because for all that i feel
none of those emotions touch me
deep enough to pull me out of this void
i'm living in.
i am.
dying
and already dead inside.

I know she’s home when her car is a mile away
It’s so loud and I can hear the music playing before she parks
I can tell it’s her by the way she slams her door
She steps lightly up the flights of stairs unlike the rest
Even careful when she unlocks the door and pushes it open
Sometimes she has a hat on, but most times not
She calls my name and I come into the room
I patiently wait for her to throw her bag on the couch
And to peel her coat off with huffs of irritation
She kicks her boots off to the side before
A breath of relief escapes her lips.

Finally, she takes notice of me!
She sits down on the floor.
I chirp with enthusiasm to show her my appreciation
She’s gentle at first and then she gets too excited
So she grabs me and I immediately remember every day before
She does this every day, but somehow I forget this part
I cry in protest, but she only laughs
Continuing to pepper me with kisses.

And now my brother emerges
I’m plopped back down on the floor
I try to get her attention again, but she’s moved on
In defeat, I walk away and sit and glare
She never picks him up like she picks me up
Oh wait, she picked him up
After more kisses he’s put down too
She stretches and smiles at us.

“Who wants food?”

When they ask me why I stayed so long
I explain that because of you
I never ran out of things to write about.

Looking back,
I wonder whether all along
I was looking for a lover
or a writing prompt.