Sometimes

it is hard to breathe.

My lungs

are compressed

by

b o u l d e r s

that sit

on my chest

weighing down

on my life.

Sometimes

it is hard to breathe.

Life whips

around me

like a

t o r n a d o

and

I can’t

get

a moment

to gasp

for

a i r.

Sometimes

it is hard to breathe.

But it’s only because

I find

myself

u n c o n s c i o u s l y

holding my

b r e a t h

for

30 seconds

60 seconds

120 seconds...

Sometimes,

it is hard to breathe—

so

I just don’t.

the water's cold here,

our wet bodies -- dipped in ink?

reborn, perhaps,

or something more myserious,

more nefarious.

who's to say?

smeared, baptised,

soaking and cold

draining our souls

as we squeeze out our hair.

letting it hang,

limp like fear.

we won't be able to swim

when we're chilled to the bone,

so just keep me here

where i won't breathe

and please just tell me

if you don't need me -

this water can't be colder

than the truth that i've already

swallowed.

to learn from my mistakes

I must endure

the pain

the torment

the scars

I must take

the pain

the torment

the scars

and build armor from it

I must use the armor

make it

my protection

my reminder

my fortress

so that I may be able

to grow

to learn

to thrive

as I go forward

to learn from my mistakes

I must use my struggles

to make me

smarter

stronger

better

after Anne Boyer

I am not skipping stones across rivers. I am not skipping pebbles, even. I am not skipping across a hopscotch chalked on cement, one-legged on the one, two on two and three. I am not skipping down a grocery-store aisle chasing reflections of fluorescent lights. I am not skipping like a child, too. I am not skipping like someone without something to lose. I am not skipping down mountains because that might hurt my ankles. I am not skipping on even ground, either. I am not skipping on the unskippable, like clouds or stars or anything fuzzy and impossible. I am not skipping over black holes or past leaf-obscured pits. I am not skipping class. I am not skipping my medicine, not again, I am over that and I swallow them now. I am not skipping anything but I am especially not skipping garbage in creeks—the little pieces of plastic would just float in the deer piss anyway.

There’s galaxies somewhere

That hold universes of gold

And people run free like a time

Beyond what we were told

There people somewhere

Living with magic in their touch

Going on wondrous adventures

That our hands could never cultch

There is a world somewhere

So full of life ours would be jealous

For we were once that way

So over joyed and Zealous

But some got tired of the happiness all around

I guess that’s why they decided to always

Tear it down.

~ Our dreams are not for sale, we do not wish them to be unveiled.

Table scattered with

Books and papers and bread crumbs

And my near future

Days spent sitting here

Eyes glued to a computer screen

Headphones cover my ears

Days start earlier

With the sun still rising

And sleep in my eyes

Candy and cookies

Are my afternoon snacks

And morning and night

The Great Gatsby sits

On my bedside table and

I slowly read through it

The days blend and mix,

The sun has no purpose but

To hide behind clouds

Days decided by lists

And due dates with no extensions

And internet speed

Bodies trapped in

Wooden cages and glass windows

The mind wanders

Tomorrow is no surprise.

how do i express

the pain of your absence

the waves of aching loneliness

there is not simply a word

that could sum up

the heartbreaking,

everlasting need

for you

i don’t know

if you will ever be mine

but i am yours

forevermore

-elled