Little white lights and little white pills,
Hoping they both do something for the memories sloshing around in my head,
**** them like bacteria?
Little bit of alcohol,
Shrivel them up with that bitter bitter,
***** ‘em out with my head under water,
Voice out far,
I’ll put on a show,
Strutting around on that hardwood floor,
Emerge stage right, through a prop door,
Blow a kiss to the crowd
At the end of the show,
If I pretend hard enough,
They’ll never know.
But won’t they,
If they find the empty, orange vials,
While I’m caking on stage makeup,
All the colors of denial,
And they know those aren’t tic tacs in my bathroom sink,
And it’s not apple juice
In my iced down drink,

But I can stand up, dress up, and play with the rest of them,
Run with the best of them,
Binding my panic in,
Tangled up in mic wires
And hair pins
As long as I medicate
Don’t communicate
And wrap it all up
Wind it all in
Nice and tight,
Not a hair out of place,
Big smile on my face,
That’s it,
Maybe that’ll do it,
Maybe I’ll get better this time.

My whole life I've always been the side character
And in most of my friendships have been terrible
Mostly because the out of the few a few have been just horrible to me
But even along with that I've always just been the side kick
I've always been so and so's best friend
That's all I've always been
Every time someone greeted me and I said my name
I got "Oh, name's friend."
I felt very small, but I was comfortable
Because it was all I had ever known
I always knew to keep my opinions quiet so I wouldn't lose them
I always knew to just listen in on conversations
And I always knew to smile whenever I was called the side kick
So when my best friend of 7 years moved away
And I had no friends whatsover
It was weird just being called Hannah
It was terrifying not having friends but it was liberating to be me
It was liberating to be recognized as a human and not as an accessory
And it was then that I realized I was always a side character
In my own life i was playing the **** side character
And I also realized I loved being the lead
I now make it a point to be equals in all relationships
With friends, partners, and all people
Because I know how horrible it is to be belittled
And I want all people to realize how amazing the main stage is

(Let's pretend we are off the stage, the shadows have reached our bellies, the rest of us will be eaten soon enough).

These are my memories, like a noir film,
of you pressing my unwant down further
into my throat. You spoke too soon of a
happy ending where there could be none; there
are too few songs between us and I never even
enjoyed your ****** music. When I think back
to those sullen years, do my fingers tremble?
You can be assured they do. Two roads diverged;
the one less traveled (I thought I took it) and yet,
to find, in reality they had been worn down just
the same. I no different

from my mother who tried so very hard to
escape--to burst colorsong out of her breast.

It may sound cheesy
but I swear the whole world fell away
in the moment
that I was a princess
and he was a boy
as a prince
reaching out
without withholdings

I think it's beautiful
The way your hands are sturdy and calloused
Not the gentle softness illustrators are known for
These hands have felt real art
Built from the ground up
Days of mixing, moulding and texturing
Breathing life into deathly white parchments

I think it's beautiful
The way your arms are slender yet firm
Dusky brown skin holding rippling strong muscles
Strengthened slowly
through years of bullying and soul searching
Their unsymmetrical realness known not
For their harshness
But for the gentle notes they strum
Weaving elegantly with the quiet moving pictures on screens

I think it's beautiful
The way your shoulders always stand strong
A declaration demanding the eyes of every being in sight
Their angled rigidity know to be surprisingly nimble
An immovable pillar for the melting of your body
A constant transformation into unknown characters

The hidden bumps of tired hands
The rough ridges of calloused skin
The angled sharpness of chiseled bones
Hidden works of art
Flitting secretively under the armor you wear
The priviledge of their appearance
But a few can bear

Watch what the pedant swine does- whose gargling
fills the Scabbards. Those near men who nestle in
with peers and well heeled cogs, Laced and misshapen
by all the verdant narcotics of the Time. For all to see
they'll Stand and declaim clotted regurgitations of
promises already Framed.

Their attire in constant lave, and limbs Strung up by
the unnatural- Their throats lined thickly to the teeth,
of figments and cruor, and the fiction they spiel forever
a plush Decor.

For, you see, all but few buy what they Sell- counterfeit
talk stocked pretentiously upon shelves. And all speedily
Corked fit in viewing eyes, plugged into those who've not
the time to Reason why? Bought in bulk- a Politician plying
his delicately chosen words.

A place of laughter
A place for smiles
A place where you can be yourself
By being other people
A place to grow up in
A place to be

We sat
on the edge
of the kitchen bench,
like most evenings
and shared stories
from our days.

My love,
his eyes
a mirror
for his weary mind.

It's only Monday
he says
watching
Kenny dance
inside a glass.

**** Kenny.
He's no good.

Why are you so sad?
he asks.
I smile and say
because I'm me!
and throw my arms to the sky
like my own personal curtain call.

He sips from his glass,
no longer dancing
and replies
that's a much simpler answer.

I leap from the bench
and embrace him,
cradle his head
to my cold
and bony
shoulder.

My strength lies with them

the people who make me feel at home

we are not a club

we are a family.

We stand strong

hold each other up

protect our own .

We thrive on the happiness

we give each other.

We are one

like the song from The Lion King 2

we sang together today

right before double run through.

I love you guys

and I'll never stop.

Thank you so much

for being my family.