You are the most







And Loving

Person I know.




My Past 24 Hours

July 23, 2010

Take a swig

Pop a pill


Sleep for 3 hours





Sleep for 2 hours

Skate Park




People can make fun of me.

You can threaten me, mock me, tear me to pieces.

I can handle it, but someday, someone will take your bullshit to heart.

You could hurt someone.


July 5, 2010

My grandma takes a bath every night before bed.

Walking down the hallway tonight, I smelled scented candles.

She hasn’t burnt them since grandpa died.


June 23, 2010

Stopped my thinking,

Quit my dreaming.

This is realism

without the fear.

A New Kind of Sleep

June 14, 2010

Sleep comes in waves, breaking the night into modest pieces.

These pieces are filled with the drone of late night cartoons and the flash of your television.

Blankets entangle our legs making the bed a sea of soft warmth.

A rush of air, your yawn, brushes my neck accompanied with a whisper.

“Sweet dreams.” you murmur, sliding down onto my pillow.

“You too.” I sigh, gazing intently at the television.

Eventually sleep crashes into me, coaxing my head to lie next to yours.

In and out of consciousness we drift, tossing and turning.

I wake to  your touch, an arm reaching for me.

Unaware, you pull me close into a soft embrace.

Acceding to your form I relax in your amiable arms.

“I love you.” I mutter, allowing the night to pull me away with you.


June 7, 2010

The microwave door clicks open revealing a steaming cup of tea.

I carefully grasp the handle and carry it across the room.

My body relaxing into the couch, I taste the sugar left on my lips.

Accompanied with a sigh, I stretch my arm to the floor.

After searching, my fingers wrap around the smooth container.

The pills shake in their half empty bottle.

One, two, three fall out of the orange bottle into the palm of my hand.

Sitting on my dry tongue, the powder starts to dissolve, a bitter taste lingering.

A swig of tea rinses away the lump, slipping down my throat.

My eyes shut and my head rests back on the forgiving, cool leather.

The bottle falls to the ground, rattling, retreating back under the couch.

Eventually the sleep takes over, my eyelids becoming heavier.

Trudging to my bed, I chug the rest of my tea, dropping the cup in the middle of the room.

A yawn escapes my mouth, a final sound before I drift off to sleep.

The night goes by, as does the next day, starting this cycle over again.

The Exemplary Years

June 7, 2010

You don’t know

The world around you,

Small child

Lucky girl.

Soon enough

You’ll learn it all,

The heavy burdons

And weightless gifts.

Until then,

Your curious eyes

overlook the invisible,

Painful lies.

Small child,

Lucky girl,

Growing old hurts,

Please stay young.

One day you’ll see

The world you live on

Is complex,

Forgiving to none.

For now you sing,

Filling silence with laughter,

See love in life,

And live contently.

Oh small child,

Lucky girl,

As days pass

You will want them back.

Fall asleep worry-less,

Troubles out of mind.

Sleep will come easy,

But only for now.

Small child,

Lucky girl,

Hold your moments close

And save them for later.

One day you’ll see

The precious life you had

And reach for the memories

Of that small child,

That lucky girl.


May 19, 2010

So much is forged on the exterior,

I become something I’m not.

The fragile interior shatters,

My precious work is lost.

Abysmal Intent

May 12, 2010

Your idle chatter only touches the surface

Of a tension strung between us.

My repose aura begs to crack

The formal filter you tend to display.

My lack of facade reveals my insight

Of a great being captured in an endless cycle.

Our previously exchanged words

Rest on the surface of my thoughts.

You bury these words beneath you

Unwilling to resurrect them.

You elude my outspoken gaze

Until I turn and finally catch your eye.

For a moment to long you sit

The surface broken by the mutual awareness.