You never had any sense of time.

That's why I'm left opposite your absence

in a booth in the back of this steakhouse

because booths in the back make you feel

like a badass

and steakhouses have always been

your favorite despite that you've never

been able to get any of that meat onto

your own body.

I've ordered you a rootbeer,

the kind that comes in a bottle

because, again, that whole badass thing.

You're only 11, brother,

you've always thought yourself to be a man.

Maybe that's why you feel the need to

"insert your independence"

every time you're asked to brush your teeth

or make your bed.

You like restaurants because the waiters

have to do what you say

you can pick apart the menu without

anyone seeming insulted. 

Brother, I've long since given up

making you try something new because you're afraid

of tasting something you don't agree with.

I settle instead for letting you choose

if I could have it my way,

I'd order you dishes that you can't pronounce the name of

from countries you've never heard of.

I want culture to dance on your tongue,

it tastes like acceptance.

I want to force gratitude down your throat,

swallow patience.

I will serve you judgement on a plate

so you can taste how ugly it feels

for yourself.

I wish you the curiosity 

that leads you to all the things you can't

order out of a catalogue because you're still

small enough

to fit into those crevices I no longer can,

cracks my body has since outgrown

but my spirit has not. 

I envy your youthful opportunities, brother,

and hate your fruitful disregard for them.

You are growing into the ground,

I hope you later learn to uproot yourself,

carry some of your own weight. 

Bite into bitterness a few times

so you can remember what sweetness is.

I will teach you build bridges instead

of burning them. Light fires for warmth

not destruction. 

Treat women the right way

so that it harmonizes with your future.

That is my role.

As your sister, 

this one's on me

for every slamming door

every fight you have with mom and dad downstairs

it's payment.

I hide the sighs of my frustration

behind bedroom doors

so you think I have a quiet nature

but I have an army of resistance 

behind my ribcage,

a platoon of tolerance waiting in my stomach

the sound of poems being born

humming in the dark

singing of your childhood militia.

You never notice

beyond your forks and knives

Brother, I would starve for you.

The Boy Downstairs

I'm in love with the boy downstairs
I knock on his ceiling, and he on my floor
The people here cannot read
our morse code
our skin like braille
but only for each other
We are fervently silent 
but only with each other
breathing in rhythm
warriors beating from inside our rib cages
harmonious battles
ephemeral eroticism


With his hand clasped around his wrist
factious ignobles
boors under the aegis of their own blind nature
besiege his opulent altruism
their perspicacity to enervate
what's left of him to cut out
but his pieces become carrion
inside their unfit holes


I ask him
not to rectify their disintegration
I tell him
this isn't his fault
these people left their amorphous hearts
on street corners somewhere between
growing up and giving up
an intersection of mistrust and misunderstanding


I tell him
that we could only continue
cutting out pieces of ourselves
and fitting them into the empty spaces
of each other




(a vocab piece for my creative writing class. Don't be overwhelmed by the atrocious number of big words)

Red

It is warmth on your cheek

like a kiss from the sun

seeping through the blinds of your window

late afternoon canvas sky

ribbon clouds painted

brushed with heat strokes

It is dirt kicked up

from your feet planted into the ground

then uprooting yourself to run

so it spins in the air behind you

trace the shapes with your fingers like candle smoke

spiraling upward

It is all dust and roses

It is when her hand graces your arm

the glow spreading beneath her touch

staining your skin when she leaves

it never really washed out, did it?

It is summer

falling into autumn

It is bodies in the snow

they tumble together in spite of themselves

the wind is their quiet laughter

you didn’t know winter could be so warm

It is girlish innocence

concealed beneath a flushed cape

curls swept under a hood

blood underneath skin

wolfish grins in the forest

It is pounding fists

into pounding hearts and heads

faces swollen with questions

chewing on bitter answers

It is bite marks on fruitful skin

sinful as knowledge

temptation is just as sweet 

It is all red

Thoughts From Places: Norway

This is a new place with an old friend

plus some new friends too

This is a place where homes hide

behind each other on the hillside

Where every street

seems to lead you in circles

so you can lose yourself in the city

I never knew

there were places like this

Places that keep statues of themselves

to remind them of who they were

and who they still are

Places that hold onto memories of people

like the hands of children we don't want to grow up

There are places that keep happiness

stored between every tree

in each breath of air

I'm inhaling the scent of this new home

it tastes like liberty

There are places where the sun

hardly empties the sky

and when it does our laughter

is still echoing off the cliffsides

our smiles do not fade like the horizon does

There are places where the rain

kisses the ground like sailors do

when they've come home

a year passed over the waves

Places that have pieces of yourself

the ones you were only starting to feel missing

There are places where water is your only road

we're still floating when we reach the shore

arms to the side as we fly

feet hardly touching the ground

our footsteps disappear behind us

we seek the pulpit

I'll preach to you my story

because you catch sun rays in your hands

and put them in my pockets

so I carry the courage

I need when we leap to the next stone

hoping our feet know where to land

There are places where you don't feel

the clock tick

so when the starts peek through the sky

you're left wondering where the time went

so we return home

wearing the dirt of the day

it stained our skin but

I want it that way

I want to remember

how innocence brightens your eyes

and how we lift our heads when music plays

I want to remember

standing at the precipice

looking out over the edge

eyes watering, body trembling

we are alive

we are infinite

I want to remember these people

who made me feel this

made me feel like the music around me

was only soaring because I was

because we were

we are

growing roots in each other

the wind can blow us away

it cannot blow us apart

there are places like this

they are waiting for you

you just have to find them

the video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_c9vnfvJPrk&feature=feedu

opened

Her body is rock

not like stone

but like

back and forth

whichever way the day takes her

but that makes her like

a wave so when

she tries to hug the shore

something pulls her back and when

she wants to run away

something forces her forward

Her mind is a book

but it’s in every language you can’t

speak

Her heart is like

her mother’s jewelry

box full

with gestures of

affection crowned with

chains linked golden

around her ventricles

flowing through her veins

pooling back into her heart

diamonds

embedded into its walls

Beautiful and heavy

But she will love you

for love has been through her

so often she calls it

God

and guides her as the moon

is a light for anyone who will follow

And she wants to be

swallowed by the sky

wants to feel like

she is apart of something

she can’t explain

and like there is enough

room to unbind

let loose the chains

and just shine

like a star

and even if she were to fall

someone will wish on her

and hope would be the last

gift she would give

the final piece to cut out

and because of it maybe

someone will live

Her eyes are opening

she wants to find

the world

though she is distant as the moon

when it is trying to pull the sea

but pull it

she does

sleeping prayer

Escape like the world

just got a little too small

for you to get lost in it

Pull at your frayed edges

let the strings come undone

Let there be stars that beckon

to be laid under

and gazed upon like

they’ve woven answers throughout

the constellations

and beg for you to question them

Let sleep cast you away

like a fishing hook on a rod

into a sea of dreams

let its current pulsate through your

veins and decide where to take you

Your legs will carry you faster

than you want them to but

let them

for you’ve trained them

to get you where you need to go

When you’re finished

crawl up to the shore

feel the sand beneath your deadened body

pick it up in your hands

watch as it falls through the cracks

and feel okay about it

because this is one thing

that you’re supposed to

let slip through your fingers

Thoughts From Places: East Coast Road Trip

Drive.

That’s the only thought that comes to mind

when your destination

is anywhere but here

and your car

is fueled with the mere longing

for something more

because life has something in store

but you have to look for it

if it doesn’t come to you

and that’s what I came here to do

Now

the price of freedom

is the same price of gas

in your car

or of a hotel bed for one night

but at either rate

it’ll take you pretty far

even when the roads aren’t clear

you’ll just have to steer a little carefully

Each city along the way

has something to offer you

like you are only going to last

if you put the past behind

and move on to find

whatever you have left about yourself to define

Like New York

you feel important

just  by breathing it’s air

because artistry rolls off

the people working diligently

and that city never sleeps

because you keep thinking that if you blink

you’ll miss something worth living through

And Baltimore

in it’s harbor

you’ll find

that things become more beautiful

if you shed a different light on them

In it’s aquarium

you realize how strange it is

to see

how lonely we can be

even when surrounded by others

You will also realize

that bubbles

are one of the world’s greatest amusements

to mankind

In Fredricksburg

every street

is a machine

to take you

back to a time that’s seen

the hardships

of our history

And you feel

like every corner you turn

has a new story

and you wanna learn them all

because each crack

came one by one

and where one tale ends

a new one has begun

And as it gets darker

the horizon is still something we chase

so we race down a highway where

every bridge

gets you from old to new

and a few of them

are bound to be longer that others

but stop worrying

that you’re not strong enough

or patient enough

to withstand it

or that you don’t have

enough breath

to last that tunnel

because you can handle it

cross it when you get there

enjoy the view

you’ll look back and realize

how much you grew

how you could always see

that it’s not the destination that matters

it’s the journey

The video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9puG7HNKa_Y&lc=R24VB9jPoIKU46Swcrvc9dKovolwclexsl-aUFaO1Qk&feature=inbox

Hey Batman

Hey Batman

Haven't seen you in a while.

I've been acting like a child

trying to hold on to you.

Onto the things I have left.

but maybe it's only best

if I let loose.

Let go.

Because it hasn't started to snow

and we're halfway through December.

And I'm begging you to remember

how you used to save the city

and me right along with it.

You should know I always pity

anyone who doesn't take the chance to know you.

But then you advance

in this epic romance

and I have to decide how to

position my heartstrings around you

because in this equation we divide two

until they are fractions too complicated for anyone to deal with.

You have this thought in your head

that pain is not something to regret

but something we only gain from.

And you would light yourself on fire

just to feel how it burns

and every time you turn,

bridges fall down all around you.

The climax of our story is your realization

of your self-deprecation 

through a creation of bad news

and lone walks in the dead of night

without a soul to save, you choose to lose

your sight in the bat cave

that seems so empty lately,

like the spot just below your heart

that starts in between your lungs

and connects directly to your tongue

and curves around every word you've ever made.

And I would have paid

just to see you walk away

from something that you started.

And I would have parted

as soon as I heard you say

that we were too loosely bound 

in this uptight world.

But you would never say that.

Even if we are just

bits of sand falling through the hourglass

and it's only a matter of time before we run out. 
But for now, we just have to be.

You see,
I used to let the sun kiss my skin 

but now I miss the rain 

because we used to hurricane

as if we had a reason to.

But now it's "tis the season" to

making aching hearts

that tell a story in parts

that will never fit together.

But worlds grow and fade

and yet, I wouldn't trade

any late, lonely night

for any sort of fight

that one of us might end up in.
Even when every one of those nights has been
a new hole in my middle.
And that's hurts, just a little.

Just like bullets that run in between eyes

and moments that I catch during your sighs

because I can tie

every memory to a string

that weighs me down like a chain of guilt

and built from one time when your eyes lingered

on mine and every breath that followed

was drawn with caution

as to not disrupt the moments

that we set up around each other

in a fragile manner.

Yet, there was no plan for

falling into this pattern

of touch and go

and living so low
that we want to slow
time, for it threatens to rip us apart.

But I've never felt like that before
Never have I wanted to pull out my hair
or stare so long at something that it combusts
or trust someone so instantaneously
that I'm dangerously close to breaking.
You try to gut out your insides until you feel nothing
in hopes that maybe something
will start to re-build itself inside of you
so that we won't have to starve
the one thing that carves us most.

We are sitting at a traffic light

stuck on go when stop is our main priority.

Even when there isn't a haven in sight

as you and I make up a minority

of stalled out cars and broken dishes,

fallen stars and making wishes

on the smallest of them.

Because they are us

and we are them.