Jump

Girls start to dance

and you can't help but wonder,

will this just fizzle out?

but it doesn't matter.

because,

TONIGHT. . .

He leads you down a dead-end corridor.

as you continue onward

with that same intense voice your mother said

was from God himself.

although you are feeling low,

This "one way" "dead-end" corridor is,

poisoned.

Too much carbon monoxide.  

from the heavy breathes of the walls

lined with ready to fire prison guards.

Yet,

despite the lack of windows

and absence of light,

You know you can jump,

to a bubble of quiet fresh air,

that is just 

on the other side of this cinder block wall.

Jump 

and drift to a place where your work speaks for itself.

TONIGHT.

Take that leap.

and because he is "kind" enough to lead you nowhere. . .

leave his grimy palms for the dust to consume.

Lets think about that.

and then,

I will meet you in our soapy bubble,

that need no words to keep it afloat.

Please.

I have my face pressed to the cement.

But

I need our silence to carry you and I,

away.

TONIGHT!

With you. . .

My dearest friend

who has not only carried my books,

but the heavy bricks I find along this path

that is. . .

going. . .

NOWHERE.

SIDE EFFECTS MAY INCLUDE LOSS OF YOU.

Begging: August 30th, 2011

TAKE ONE CAPSULE EVERY MORNING BY MOUTH.
DO NOT CHEW OR CRUSH.

They weren't even the right prescription.
But they "helped."

Every morning with a cold gulp of water, sliding like a snake down my throat.

It took about 30 minutes of freedom for the chains to enclose around my wandering mind.
and I always could tell when they started "working"

My hands would begin to tremble.
My heart would beat a little bit louder
and as it thudded like periodic bombs,
the voices would return along with their hate and disgust looming and clouding my impressionable mind.

and I believed them all.
As far as I knew,
There was no one who noticed.
and if there was, they didn't care.

I was completely alone.

SIDE EFFECTS MAY INCLUDE LOSS OF APPETITE.

Every mirror was proof that if I was. . .
skinnier. . .
and if my boobs where a size B. . .
He would love me.

It was so EASY!
I knew I wasn't good enough.
And The pills made it too easy to starve.
I was close to what I wanted.
Just a little bit smaller
and he will love me.

and for a while it worked.
with every skipped meal.

my waist was smaller. . .
and with a thinner mid-section,
the contrast between my torso and my breasts seemed more prominent.

What does it matter if every night I wept
because,
I wanted God to pluck me from this earth and take me
HOME.

I was so tiny and still getting smaller.

Middle: October 15th, 2011

Dance with me so I can forget.
Dance with me.
Dance in purple dance in black.
Dance with me.
Dance eye to eye in a room of chest to chest.
Dance with me.
Dance in blue vans with dirty laces.
Dance with me.
Dance to learn our finger prints and foot steps.
Dance with me.

Twirl me into you to hear my laugh.
Dance with me.
Keep my hands tight in yours.
Dance with me.
Dip me and feel my weight,
Dance with me.
Smile to my unheard words
and then just..
Dance with me.

You felt my weight,
and saw my height.

I know you knew.
and you just kept. . .
Dancing with me.
To a song I still listen to.

Thank you for your time.
Thank you for making me want mine back.


My grades began to take the tole,
of the liberty You
planted in my heart that night.
But the blind fold was lifted from my eyes when you looked into them.

I  Stopped 
The daily routine of learning with a medicated mind.
I was so far gone,
it took me 2 years
for The Pain of the past to leave.

and. . .
Not the end, but Now:

I wake up every morning and know that I am enough.
Now I see that the pills were taking away what I now hold close. . .
ME.

And I Want It.

I don't know what love is.

I don't know how to let someone "love" me.

I know what it is like to "love" someone.

But "to be loved" is a phrase that I can never manage to hear in time.

maybe I am supposed to feel it instead..

but how can I feel it when my hands have been tied for years?

love is this emotion that is meant to open your eyes and knock you off you feet,

send you hurdling into a dreamy whirlwind of rose petals and Ooey gooey lips.

I want that stupid whirlwind everyone talks about.

 it swirls up with patterns of sparkling gold flakes hinted with this pinky sunset color that lures every fiber of my heart.

It looks to delicious and free.

But I am standing on a peak of isolation... and regret.

Watching that tornado spin all over the baby blue valley of happy smiles and perfect dance moves.

its come my way once




And.
I.
Wanted.
It.
But.
I.
Was.
To.
Afraid.
So.
I.
Ran.





For a moment it chased after me.

and I guess... thats how I got up here.

on this grayish green mountain

wrists bound by cords of morning glory and piano music.


It's partially ironic and somewhat idiotic...

but I'm OBSESSED with...

LOVE.

The idea of it fills my veins with it's cancerous idea that one day I could experience the joy
of loving someone who loves me completely.

When I find my way down this rocky ledge,

I imagine the sappy whirlwind we call love will contain..

honey sweet lips.

Sweaty palms on a saturday night.

Smokey campfire kisses.

Slow dancing to French music whose words we don't know but emotion we mirror.

Leisurely hiking to magical places just so you can kiss me with no ones eyes
 lingering on our misjudged figures.

CD exchanging

Gas wasting up the canyon so I can hold your hand while we drive under a night of ancient stars


Lazy library days where we sit back to back and read other peoples imaginations.

Bike rides to the land where no one knows our names and no one cares because
 they are also incased in the same whirlwind as us.

Keeping the windows rolled down when it rains so we can touch droplets that fell from the same cloud that loomed over me while I stood bound by my own hands... and drowning in my blood on that crumbling peak of despair.

I wouldn't mind being sucked into that vortex.

So..

 I Love, love.

Even though I ran

and even though I don't understand a single thread of it.

and it scares me more than death...

I love it.

Maybe some day



I

will
come
down
from
this
peak
but
If
I
jumped
it
would
be....
                                                                                               

       

Suicide.

let me take my time.

                                         

                                                                                                                  

kisses are gross..but..

I want your lips to press against mine.

Whisper words only silence hears...
you're safe.

To calm their trembles with the truth.

Pull my skeleton from it's grave...
and into you.

And I will weep.

You have saved me.
I never want you to stop saving me.

I always want your glorious words to bleed and stain my very being

Exhale your fears..
Breathe me in..

Oh, how I crave
how I wait.

For our kiss that gives us more than a shallow buzz of lust.

For the kiss that means we, you, me, us, ours...
safe.

What a world it would be, if people kissed with all they are.
If every kiss cried; I love you.

00110101

Reasons I am not a robot:

You cannot replace my hard drive if it breaks.

I believe in God.

I cannot tell you how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop .

I have the ability to make tiny humans.

I cannot breath without oxygen.

I have no autocorrect.

I feel emotion.

I can't divide 5567 by 17482026.

I loose card games.

I don't need an update to progress.

I can't use windows 7.

You cannot scan me once to know everything I've done and where I've been.

Reasons why I am a robot:

I can divide 2 by 4.

My brain absorbs new things daily.

I can go to sleep and shut down.

I don't always know who I am.



So, in the end I have reasons why I am and why I'm not a robot. I honestly don't know the answer. But I do know this: when I was a kid, every white van I saw was animal control and I had to hide my dog. Because  if they saw my  dog running around with out a leash they would haul her away. Now, every white van I see is potentially a rapist waiting to pounce. So I hide, while my dog barks in my front yard, chain around her neck.

People change according to the  data they are introduced to. And although I feel fear creeping into my veins when I see a white van , have I not been taught that fear?  If a robot was programmed to hide when he saw a white van, wouldn't  it do the same thing I did?

Puppet to These keys

Trying to get that one piano piece perfect.

                                              

                                            slipping and sliding across the ivory keys so 

                                           gently weaving harmonies from thin air when...

your finger skids across a F instead of an E.

Mortified you stop. 

and begin again. 

and just like before,

your fingers dance from left to right

white to black

and like you did before...

you miss the E and tap the F.

There isn't a single F note played in the entire song.

so you...

yank out the useless F.

and toss it to the ground.

then you get to thinking...

why would i need any of these other F keys?

and you never once touch the major scale...

So you rip those out as well.

Nineteen keys lie detached from the frayed piano strings on the cold floor.

Finally

you get it right.

you play the melody over and over

until..

you can play it with your eyes closed. 

So life goes on and everyday you practice that same song. 

And you know what?

thats great.

you will never make a mistake again.

but you know what else?

you will also never progress.

you are now bound to this elementary tune.

you are a puppet to these keys. 

Realizing the piano has nothing left to offer...

you put it away in the basement

where it will slowly age away.

you will never make it as a pianist if you cannot use all the keys. 

and you will never make it as a writer if you are to afraid of what potential creativity you have.