just last a year

2009.it brought:

laugher.change.love.

couchtime cries.and loss of friends.

deep connections and hippies.

brand new and thrice on halloween.

a new year and awkward beginning.

fake smiles and depressed days.

rocky relationships and steadfast ones.

you in spain, me in the states.

living and giving.

loss of time and death of lives.

a wedding and a funeral, or two.

a pregnant cousin.

art class, and bio classes.

late nights and cold mornings.

coffee and skipping class.

a house with better roommates.

homemade dinners and leftovers.

a fridge and a stove

a master bedroom and a wall of records.

a ten day roadtrip:DC,NYC,Penn,Nashville, Memphis.

the smithsonian and jefferson.

graceland and horse parks.

hottest of summers and the worst of partnerships.

its always sunny in philadelphia

late night drives and travel mugs

wimberley and younglife.

GOD and nature walks.

conversations constant.

beautiful days and beautiful conversations.

tattooed friends and grander thoughts.

ethics and anthropology.

a greater calling to costa.

and questions about love.

the ability to feel,

without you.

last year at pinecove.

high schoolers with big hearts,

willing to embrace mine.

cookies and burning them.

sigma chi's and the loss of them.

friends, better ones.

gatherings and bonfires.

camping and kerbey lane.

getting lost and getting a gps.

purple plaid and purple cardigans,

and hope for a new brighter, better, beautiful year.

2010.

beauty in the blurry

the glass sliding doors opened and people were waiting, with an old man singing the same five christmas carols on karaoke. i am wearing a beautiful scarf around my neck and my favorite purple cardigan. scanning the crowd for some sign of you. i don't seem to blend, in fact, they thought i was from the royal dutch airlines, as if i had the answers to the delayed flight and the lack of ability to get through customs, but instead i took my place among them with the same puzzled look.

soon enough you'd come for me, i knew it.

you make your way through the rows of people to find me in the center, as everyone turned to face me, i jumped into your arms, and found home right there. every face lit up and cheers and clapping erupted.with a cigarette in your hand to cope with your worldly travels, we drive off.

soon enough, we'd find ourselves somewhere else.

as the door of 1610 astor place opened, your family greeted us with huge and warmth. the kind of warmth that yeager brings to your throat as it goes down. it was a party that moved fast like the beat of your favorite classical song, quick and painless.blue dixie cups posed less of a problem when filled with the sangria your mom always makes, with the orange slices, the colors fit perfectly in the cup and in my mouth. cup after cup. rum and coke. sweet tea vodka with lemonade.it was one after the other as my thoughts took flight and my laughter kept me grounded.each drink was taken with class and with that followed the pictures.outside it was cold, so crisp you could breathe out smoke.as family members left, and the few in their twenties held onto the party till the sun started to rise.

soon enough, my laughing would be too much.

i reached the bed in the corner, just in time to burst into giggles, with the realization that i was indeed exhausted.i crawled in with plaid pjs and passed out.being held and tucked in by you, was something i had left far behind in the summer.but love, oh how i missed you.

as we woke up the next morning i tried to string each thought together, as if i were sewing a quilt of memories, only to realize, that my memories were a blur, a blur of colors, a blur of emotions, and thoughts.

last night was simply...

a beautiful blur.

and when i have my own place,

ill have pre-wrapped fortune cookies sitting in a clear jar on my bar,

and you must add "in bed" after everyone you read out loud.

to:grace

dear beautiful,

your smile radiates, even when you are let down,by everyone in your family.

you are quick to forgive and that is why i love you the most.

you are abused, and taken advantage of, yet you love more than before with open arms.

your name, it fits you perfectly,grace.

you give and give and give, even when you cant anymore.

you are 6 years younger than me, but you have taught me more about life in three months than I have learned in the past year.thank you.

if i were older, i'd take you away from them.

they wouldn't be able to physically or mentally hurt you,

or use you the way they do.

I'd protect you from the uncertain,

I'd adopt you as my own,

and love you just the same.

guard your heart little girl,

and hold on tight.

if i could tell you one thing...

its that you are created for something far greater than what the world has thrown at you so far.

love.

revelry

so take it, and dig it deeper, kid

more harsh than before like the bitter wind.

let me paint you this picture,

with the colors from my heart,

and every lost hope,

laying somewhere in the gravel road.

summer faded its way finally into fall.

and i got caught up in it all.

the leaves were the warmth,

like your favorite red shirt.

as you sat me down in my car,

and fed me lies.

coffee soothed me, more than you ever could.

i want to believe you,

i want to feel what was there,

on those summer days.

but its too late.

the package marked this side up, carried my heart,

the one you kicked out of your car,

the one that landed on the curb,

and waited in the rain.

you returned occasionally,

looking down at its familiar brown wrapping,

trying to find the memory,

of why it still laid in the street.

yet you didnt pick it up.

revelry caught the corners of your eyes,

as something new glittered

on the other side of the world, you boarded a plane,

and left the box, you once kept with you always.

right under the flap,was a note,sealed with a piece of twine,

and lightly scribbled it said,

"for you, i am fragile,

do your best to not break me"

water in lungs

toss and turn day and night,

these thoughts were not my own

haunted by something deeper than which can be explained.

on the outside, perfection resonated.

the sweat dripps from her brow as if she had worked so hard o get here

when in fact inside she was aching with nervousness.

you, the boy, have taken her on twists and turns around the world.

she followed you around every corner, to just get a taste of freedom.

and you left her, in the darkness,

and ran for the brilliant tiny light that shined in the distance,

only to find, it was a firefly that would leave you empty.

you turn around, and reach out your hand,

but all there is, is darkness.

she is there searching for you,

her best friend.and you are nowhere to be seen.

she falls to her knees as her heart aches within her chest,

and tears come like rain.

you left her here, to burn.

to feel every pain she has ever had,

all alone.

you LEFT her.

she poured out to you,

and you left her.

she is alone.

suddenly she is choking,

on the water that is gathering,

in her lungs.

she is too weak to handle one more thing,

as she tries to be strong in the darkness.

the fireflies didn't come for her,

and you quit looking, a week ago.

she waits, impatiently for you to come back to her,

yet you never find her.

she starts to crawl on her hands and knees,

weary from the water in her lungs,

she has wounds opening

and scars forming.

she is confused as she tries to find a way out on her own.

you have no remorse,

no sad piece in your heart for the pain you just left on her.

you LEFT her, alone.

she finds the light by herself,

with bloody palms,

you welcome her in.

time has flown by,

yet she stands on your doorstep,

with more vulnerability than before.

she walks in and falls down,

just like before,

yet this time she is hoping to see your hand.

I am waiting to see your hand, reach out,

and engulf me, just tell me this will all be ok.

pour a little salt we were never here

dear attractive boy,

the way you welcomed me in

convinced me i was yours,

and only yours.

days come slower than they did before,

and every hour we have spent full of laughter.

late night drives, and coffee mugs.

loud music and beautiful concerts,

two hands made warm in the cold.

two hearts left abandoned by other lovers,

now find peace in each others pain.

friends we were before, and friends we will remain after.

walls were built around the city

a city of our love.

distance became defense,

and we created unfair thoughts.

the way it used to be is missed,

and what happens when my lover returns.

do we pretend to last a year?

or do we pour a little salt like we were never here?

yours,

the hippie

dear pretty girl,

your cries are beautiful

just like the porcelain face God has gifted you with.

your screams breaks my heart,

just like its cracking yours.

your tears have fallen on the hearts of many,

and yet your heart is cold

just like your fingers in the winter.

you have faded into the background of the muted gray wall.

your hands are all i see,

searching for a savior,

something to capture your heart and take it away.

as your palms grow sweaty,

and your stomach reaches your throat

you choke

on the bit of poetry beckoning to escape,

and its all behind your teeth,

steered by your tongue,

that cant seem to connect with your feelings.

girl you are made anew in something far greater than yourself

start reaching instead of clinching your fists,

let your heart explode with love in your chest.

you are shining on this wall of white,

no longer a shade of the coffin,

you dug for yourself.

Christ has found you,

rescued from the pit you doomed yourself to.

be aware that your thoughts are not your own,

and your identity isnt found in others,

stop searching and know that you are loved

and created for a purpose beyond what you can wrap your mind around.

love,

your friend.

the ocean lays out before me and i can feel it catching my toes

and grabbing at my ankles,

its greeeeeeen,

a deep shade that flows over me,

and chokes me,

as i try to swim back to the shore,

i am caught up in this lie,

this lie that you have handed me,

and demanded that it drag me into the deep,

where the bottom makes me feel like sinking,

and its unstable.

carpet beneath her, wall in front of her,

she looks out the window

trying to find the silver lining that ceases to exist,

except in her dreams.

bon iver sings to her on days like this,

as if he knew her perfectly.

the last seven days have been spent with someone new,

a couch made of leather is cold like her soul.

constant conversation over cup after cup,

these are the things she loves,

as if he got into the depths of her,

without her even knowing,

he afftects her and she fails to recognize it,

and doesnt even wnat to understand it.

the fog blankets her walk,
as she searches for the warmth beneath it.
this isnt how she pictured it,
like an uprooted tree after the storm
her heart churned inside of her.
he could feel his glare searching for her
as the tears blurred her eyes
words were stuck in her throat,
not a sound came out as she waited.

the lights in the gallery catch her left ring finger, as a token of his love lies there.

this was her biggest night, and with him by her side, she was perfect.

her face glowed.

the gallery cried out for spectators,

as wine and cheese was nibbled.

her art came screaming from the walls,

and asked questions,

like what is it to love?

the electric violinist played a whole set

that went beautifully with the large painting in the corner,

it told of the couples love,

with a tree and its ever changing seasons.

he stared at her with passion in his eyes.

he was the lover of her life,

they have spent every moment together since his flight landed from afar.

and they will continue to share,

and do life together,

forever.

embedded in dark purple

deep dark purple resides on her fingertips,

like the skins of eggplant, stretched explicitly-

this reminds her of the days

when the window beckoned her name,

and the garden danced beneath her toes.

her right brain argued with her left,

her imagination craved to be set free.

in her mind,

the great barrier reef,

proposes a problem of color,

as she gazes over the edge,

into the darkest of waters,

soft reflections of yellow,

play games with her eyes.

in her heart,

the walls are dripping

with lines of love,

each person leaving their mark behind,

in this big city,

they just crave to manufacture an imprint.

the shadows twirl and whirl their way around this big empty room,

as she lays in the middle of the beautiful and dust coated floors,

breathing in every moment of history

that this old attic has offered her...

her eyes have seen the things at the end of the earth,

and her feet have been dipped in the oldest of seas

every inch of the floor is covered by

the letters, that lay worn, tattered and stained,

from every adventure that became reality.

bare

somewhere in a city, a light is shattered and its glass lay glistening in the street.

its sharp beneath her feet, bare and tired from the days behind.

with every step she feels the pains of a lost child in a desolate land over the seas.

she hears her best friend, filling up his life with other girls in towns that want him.

he tells her its all a lie. and asks why she believes it.

she knows he is hurting, but not near as much as the cuts on the bottom of her feet.

the phone lay on the floor where it last fell.

his voice still shaking on the other end.

he cries out for her to listen, he is on his knees begging her for a chance.

but that wont happen, this moment, has been in the making for 5 years straight.

he knows she is running from thing to thing, and jumping from scene to scene.

she cant help it, its all she knows.

he lays his heart gently on her sleeve,

and she runs and lets the breeze take it away.

the wind will carry his heart to another girl in another town that needs him, because she no longer does.

the atlantic divide

your ring is still on my finger,

right where you left it,

a couple of months ago.

your scent is still between my sheets

from the last time you slept here.

cold rainy days

remind me of your face,

looking for something greater.

you are now seeking and finding 

to fulfill that longing,

across the atlantic.

you sing with your new guitar,

as the people nearby loan you an ear,

and toss a few crumbled pieces in the case beneath.

your old guitar sits 

in the corner of my room,

beckoning for me to do something with it.

paint it, play it, use it.

i love you.

across the atlantic,

7 hours ahead,

your head rests on a pillow,

and i long to run my fingers through your hair.

your voice lingers day and night in my head,

and i miss you.

each day is closer to the end,

and these days are long without you.

and Lord i hope things get better.

you are admiring the seas, 

and climbing stone steps,

breathing in the history from years before.

my cry is that you would just come back,

and sweep me off my feet,

or take me back with you.

you are miles for this moment,

as i cry out for your warmth.

across the atlantic,

i wait with a smile on face,

anxious for my love.

right here in my arms

She is smiling like heaven is down on earth
Sun is shining so bright on her
And all her wishes have finally come true
And her heart is weeping. 
This happiness is killing her.

She'll be right here in my arms
So in Love
She'll be right here in these arms
She can't let go

So hard she's trying
But her heart won't turn to stone... oh no
She keeps on crying
But I won't leave her alone
She'll never be alone

She'll be right here in my arms
So in Love
She'll be right here in these arms
She can't let go

And she'll be right here in my arms
So in Love
She'll be right here in these arms
She can't let go

doors.doors.doors.

I was just recently approached with this beautiful,

hippie, coffee shop job, yes perfect for me? i know.

craaaaaapppy hours though, 6pm to 2 am. for a girl who has to get up at 7 everyday, this will just not do.at all.3 shifts of a week would mean no sleep.

money cannot seem to buy me sleep.

everything inside of me wanted to take this job, 

but what could possibly be holding me back?

was God literally telling me NO?

the lady on the other end of the phone was not the nicest, in fact she was the pushiest most stubborn boss a girl could ask for.

yes i would meet great people.

and yes i could display my awesome art,

but at the cost of what? my grades, my sleep and my social life?

yes i wanted to prove everyone wrong.that i could do it, that i could manage life on 5 hours of sleep always.

but reality socked me in the face when i realized, NO erika this isnt the best plan, yes your body would hate you.your life would be consumed by coffee and school.

can you live with that?

the thoughts in my head were ones of: Erika why are you so lazy?

what are you doin with your time?

my mind battled itself.

i then came to the conclusion that if God really wanted me to have that job, then i would get in due time.

so i shut that door, slammed it actually,

maybe out of anger that i couldnt do something i desired from deep within.

but maybe it wasnt the best for me at this moment in time.

next thing i know.

RING RING RINNNNNNG

my phone, a random number.

what is this?!

i answer reluctantly.

and i am blessed beyond relief.

loooong storrrry short,

i have was given the beautiful opportunity to be a young life leader 

at a nearby high school

Lord, why me?

i then realized this was the answer to my question,

no more laziness in your faith, Erika.

get up, get out and invest,

disciple and love.

love on kids younger than you.

so needless to say, i wont be putting money in my pockets, 

i will be filling teenager's pockets with love.

how amazing is that?

look where leaning on God can take you.

 which brings me to this verse, sent to me by my mother:

TRUST GOD from the bottom of your HEART,

don't try to figure out everything on your own.

LISTEN for God's voice in everything you do,everywhere you go,

He will keep you on track:) Proverbs 3:5-6

from the top of my lungs i will sing,

A thousand times I've failed Still your mercy remains And should I stumble again Still I'm caught in your grace  Everlasting, Your light will shine when all else fades Never ending, Your glory goes beyond all fame my heart and my soul, Lord I give you control Consume me from the inside out Lord Let justice and praise become my embrace To love You from the inside out  Your will above all else, my purpose remains The art of losing myself in bringing you praise 

girl in purple

her black sandals have taken her through every motion, every season.

today, the puddles engulf her feet,

as the rain falls on her shoulders of her purple sweater 

and her blonde hair is pulled back in a loose bun with tousled braids.

she is warmed by the coffee in her hands, 

as she wanders slowly away from this moment.

my wants, not needs

i wanna swim laps till i can't breathe, climb till my limbs are raw, sleep for days, wake up to rain and blueberry pancakes, cuddle under blankets with a warm drink in my two tired hands.

i wanna ride a vespa on the streets of italy, sail in greece, run in the spanish hills, paint in the studios of france, chill in amsterdam,  and dip my feet in the waters of the bahamas.

i wanna make a difference, get a job-living the life i love, painting in galleries and breathing in the smell of spray paint on fresh bricks.

i want to create textiles that turn into shoes, shoes all over the world on different sets of feet. 

i want to work for all kinds of people and give freely. 

i want to work in a bakery were you create smiles through food and cakes of all colors.

i want to forget about the past and move forward.

i want to make beauty exist in its own way. i dont want beauty to be a face, a name but a state of feeling, a choice.

i want to play in the rain and then go inside and then warm up.

i want to sit in a cafe midday and drink wine and eat chocolate, dark chocolate.

i want to go on adventures without thinking, be spontaneous.

i want to wear cutoffs and get tattoos and piercings. 

i want college to pay off.

i have too many wants.

i want to do too many things.

his heart, her sleeve

hot tears fall down her cheeks

as the car ride comes to an end,

she was hiding this the whole time.

the pain inside was more than she wanted bear.

in that moment, his embrace was as alive as it was the day they met.

his red shirt resembled their love and passion,

and now her pain.

her hands were raw from the days before

and the soles of her feet were worn away.

as he hugs her,

each tear thats falls carries a memory,

of laughter and joy

that is now muted in shades of gray

as they fade into the background.

its a misunderstanding,

a door that could close,

but neither of them want it to.

it's a re-do,

a new beginning,

but why is she crying.

she cries, because he failed her once,

and she thinks he will do so again,

her expectations will get in the way,

and it will all end.

her fears are her failures.

the beginning feels like an end.

even though he assures her it isnt.

a day, 24 hours, is such a long time,

after watching him drive away.

the smell of coffee even 

brings forth a tearful morning.

my dream is to intern or work for TOMS.

yes please.Lord make it happen.

.

the unexamined life is not worth living

Imagine a cubicle, an office space of boredom, but this is the life you continue to live.

365 days a year, for the past 5 years, same space, smae copy machine. your life has been left unexamined. You have lived day in and day out, in a constant rotation and scheudle.

is this all you ever imagined for yourself, is this really your dream?

Leading an unexamined life is not worth living. you make the same constant mistakes.

do you ever look back and think about your actions, your experiences?

do you sit and learn nothing?

this life you lead is lame, and boring.

it says something when you can look back and take a mistake or an experience, and have emotions over it and for it. to live life without thinking about what you are doing can and may be freeing, but ultimately will leave you entangled in a lie or a mess, its chaos.

examining life is necessary to living the life you want.

to take instance and perfect them, to mold them.

as an artist, i am constantly examining my life.

and sometimes even overanalyzing.

and at the same time i overanalyze my art, thats the only to make it better

if ic onstantly created the same piiece i would stay dissatisfied.

unsatisfied. because i would be in a rut.

the only way to make somtheing better or to better understand is to ask questions and question what you have been told and what you have done.

how can you make something better if you never look at it and ask questions.

treading water.

as i walked up the hill in the hot sun,

i convinced myself i was capable.

as i rounded the corner,

i peered at the tan colored, rusted building..

I walked in a room lined with lockers and showers,

i followed the hall as it winded around and spit me out.

i walked my chacos through the puddles of this large room,

and stared into the deep end.

could i really do this?

the last time i tried, i puked up strawberry poptarts.

this thing was huge, olympic size even.

lined with floating rows of gold and maroon disks.

8 lanes of hell,

from 4 feet to 20 in a matter of seconds.

i took my seat on the bleachers,

and signed form after form.

I still questioned my abilities,

and prayed hard for the strength.

the bleachers filled up

with different body types.

i hear a whistle and see a face.

and get the orders.

we all take our places,

in each of the lanes.

and as my head goes under the water,

i feel the pressure.

and i swim the laps, back and forth

and back and forth, i swim.

i tread until i cant hold my head up,

and my legs give out.

the water pours in over my head

and the fear rush in.

i get out and lose my legs, 

collapsed.

the test is over,

and i survived.

the purple tank top

so i am going to Costa Rica in January. 

and i am sitting here, questioning every second of it.

ok maybe i am just excited.

and i am running in a 5K in a month.

why do i feel older.

i am sitting here in my purple tank top.

worrying.

and drinking black coffee on ice.

i NEVER drank in black coffee.

i also never ate onions or mushrooms before this year.

i want a job 

an artsy one.

where i can take photos of people.

or paint while they watch me.

i want to not worry,

i want to just paint.

and not paint for a grade,

but paint with emotion.

frayed edges and colored skies

the icy drink,

blended to perfection 

is smooth as it hits her lips,

and awakens her feelings.

her thoughts are all over the place

as she soaks in the sun 

and writes to a guy,

far away.

this guy, her lover,

is somewhere in the trees,

smiling at the thought 

of her.

she dangles her feet 

over the edge of some wood,

beaten by the weather,

the breeze catches her.

her feet swirl around 

in the water beneath her.

as she thinks of him,

and the laughter he brings.

cut-offs and a deep orange V

have become her comfort today.

her blonde hair is down, 

in a mess of waves.

she carries herself well,

as she walks away from the dock,

her adventure coming to an end,

as she awaits the arrival,

of her lover.

rusty and shaking

the rusty bridge awaits its purpose,

as trains come and go 

and rattle its insides.

the sun shines down on a family beneath,

on this gorgeous afternoon.

its the day in which we honor mothers,

and children run carefree in the grass under their feet.

wandering through the streets 

of old, small towns,

looking at antiques.

the oldest, a girl with short blonde hair,

laughs constantly, not quick to get angry,

she takes each stride gracefully.

the youngest, a girl with long soft brown locks,

quiet,with a pretty smile,

hesitant when it comes to the world before her.

and in the middle, a boy, a dirty dishwater blonde,

lanky, and not quick to think,

he doesn't process much in his head.

pictures of moments

as the three take to the tracks,

and walk across, like on a balance beam

the two youngest run ahead to the middle of the rusty bridge,

and lean over, gazing at the water rushing.

and then the parents come up from the hill,

right as the train blows its horn.

chaos erupts in this moment,

when train meets track,

barreling to the bridge.

the oldest shouts,

as tears fall from her eyes,

she imagines life without the others.

not quick to think and move their feet,

the others turn to walk,

and notice the train.

and take off in a stumbling run 

towards the end of the bridge.

slow motion takes on a whole new meaning,

as the train doesn't stop,

but time tries to.

the mother falls to her knees,

crying out for a miracle to save her children,

as the father stands astonished.

the boy and girl, face the train,

as if staring into the barrel of a 45.

the oldest thinks, take me,

they are young,

let them live, Lord, please.

they barely miss the side of the train, 

as they reach the end of the bridge.

the oldest slaps the boy,

and cries out, asking him why he did this.

the youngest is scared,

for she only followed her older brother.

the mother, on her day,

hugs her children,

just grateful for another moment.

fear is read on the faces of the kids,

as they walk with their family

back to the car.

the oldest, thanks the Lord,

that they are ok, but can't begin to understand

the thoughts in their heads.

the boy acts out in anger, 

claiming to not care, as the youngest looks up at him,

with sad eyes.

many tears were shed,

some of joy, some of sadness.

but sheer gratefulness rests in the minds and hearts of this family,

as the day comes to an end,

they recognize the miracle they were given on this day.

when the wind meets the mist

the mist of the night falls on her hand 

that dangles out her car window,

her blonde hair plays games with the wind.

soft beats play faintly,as she bobs her head and begins to feel it.

the green light changes to red,

and she sits in the stillness,

taking a few puffs from a cigar,

so recently lit.

she gets tired of waiting 

and takes the right turn.

arriving at what appears to be 

her destination, his house.

the night before, 

she was on a highway,

far from home, 

arriving at a place unknown.

he greeted her, with smiles,

and took her in,

to a room full of friends,

that instantly connected.

last night, was filled with laughter,

and perfect chemistry,

beautiful music,

and fun pictures to relive the memories.

tonight takes on a more chill persona,

as she sits in her car, 

taking the last puffs of her cigar,

she smiles with windblown hair.

he walks out to greet her, 

with nothing less than smiles and warmth,

she tries to hide the excitement in her eyes,

as his embrace takes her over.

hand in hand,

he leads her through the door,

and the couch beckons them

to come and be lazy.

she seeks her place,

fitting perfectly

 in his arms,

like a mold to his body.

she has always loved being held,

to feel him so close,

the movie begins,

as she looks up at him.

this is her last night in town,

and then she must once again,

fly, with outstretched wings,

to a town far from this moment.

trying to not be saddened

 by the thoughts of her head,

she takes it all in,

his smell, the noise, the feeling.

his hands, always made her feel,

secure, where she belonged.

his lips touch her forehead,

and sheer happiness fills her.

it has always felt 

like they were 

the only two in the room,

no matter where they are.

the movie comes to an end

and they lay entangled 

on the couch,

nose to nose.

they laugh in the silence,

and find it adorable,

that somehow

time has brought them here.

after hours of crazy conversations,

filled with laughter,

and silly jokes,

its time for her to go.

as the dawn breaks,

he walks her out,

arm around her waist,

goodbyes are always the worst.

the mist is still falling,

and this time it hits

her lips, and then his,

as they meet.

its like bliss 

in the street,

as their eyes,

do the talking.

she climbs in her car,

with her windblown blonde hair,

and his scent on her shirt,

one last kiss, as the window rolls up.

she drives away,

in the dawn, 

with the beats softly playing,

as she bobs her head.

no cigar in her hand,

just the wind and the mist

to remind her of the night,

she will miss.

girl with a bird, she found in the snow

the rain beats 

on her window pane.

she sits staring

and hearing the words.

the sound of the rain,

take her back to last night.

in that moment,

her tears were warm.

the happiness began to give

off its warmth inside.

his words

she now could believe.

after all that has come 

and all that has gone.

they leaned to hard,

and the bridge broke.

time played its role

they were far apart.

he used to be a monster,

and she was the healer.

she had no idea

the affects she could behold.

after the shut out,

and late night cries.

he was like a crow,

that would pluck at her face.

the winters snow,

took her place.

it covered him

in perfect wonder.

a blanket, a warmth,

that she used to provide.

she still sits by the window,

wonder when he will wake.

lies strangled her

from her breath.

she pushed away 

everything she had felt.

time ran against itself

in the race.

the one day,

the crow arose.

the pressure of the snow,

no longer weighed him down.

he spread his weary wings,

and flew to her.

and they sat,

for hours of their life.

conversations of past,present, and future,

roll off their lips.

her tears, are joyous,

the disgusting is beautiful.

the crow is free 

from the monster within.

she takes him in,

warms him like before.

not quick to get close,

not quick to turn away.

if there is anyone

that is meant for him,

its her.

first 2 lefts

where could this have come from?

why all of a sudden?

when the front door opens,

i am greeted by a smile so grand,

and words so sweet 

i can even begin to compare.

in your polo and tight jeans,

and beautiful hair.

is there more to this 

than you actually share.

cadences play out

and pictures are shown.

you admire my ways

just as much as i do yours.

curl up on the couch,

with the dog in between

hold my hand

till i fall asleep.

we werent friends before

we never shared words,

a glance and half smile

is all i have to go on.

so where did this come from?

and where is it going?

im waiting on an answer

i will never receive,

im avoiding this feeling

that goes so deep.

as you sit,

making faces in my direction,

all i have to do is laugh,

and its perfection.

with drinks in hand

lets toast to this,

this moment,

when we became friends.

wait, 

where did this come from?

are we friends?

why all of a sudden?

stupid girl,

calm you loud thoughts,

go with what you feel,

and the rest is out of your control.

anxiously waiting

as i sit on this bus
the dead grass 
and vacant hills
roll by my window.
the sun sets on the other side
two people in front
and none behind,
i sit here.
waiting, waiting
has always been the worst,
counting down never seemed to help.
the airport is full,
people are pacing,
as i sit and wonder 
when the time will come 
to board the plane,
as i hear the speakers 
go off, i jump to my feet
and find the nearest seat,
fumbling around
i buckle myself in
and anxiously wait,
maybe twirl my thumbs 
but only for a few seconds
as the plane fills up
i wait for the attendant 
to walk up and down the rows,
checking everything
and offfering anything
to pass the time.
it never felt this long before,
why now?
maybe b/c i know
who is waiting for me 
on the other side.

my family is 
on the other side,
states away,
waiting for the arrival.
to see them will be 
great, i have missed each one
for different reasons,
some big and some small.
i can't wait to be back 
in warmer weather
with smiles all around.
their excitement is contagious,
as i walk down the long hallway,
the balloons will be seen,
my brother is the first 
to run towards me,
followed by my sister
as my parents anxiously wait 
feet away.
and then my mom isnt able 
to wait any longer
and she shrieks 
at the sight of my face,
as my dad patiently waits 
with a goofy smile
as i walk over and hug him,
we walk out to the car
and begin the drive home.

he is waiting,
i know it.
waiting for me,
to come home,
waiting to see my smile
and gorgeous green eyes
staring him down,
he meets me 
at the end of his driveway
and scoops me up 
in a beautiful embrace.
i shed a tear
of sheer happiness.
then i wont let go,
and we stand there,
just taking it all in.
it seems so surreal,
lik i am stuck in this dream 
or maybe i have been pulled 
back, back to time
when we were so immature,
running the halls of high school.
after two years and only seconds 
of randomly seeing each other,
at last we laugh
till our stomachs hurt,
and till we cant anymore.
that is one of the greatest things.
and then i get invited inside
we sit for hours 
curled up in blankets
till the sunrises 
and we are greeted 
by his sisters laguhter
at the sight of us asleep 
entangled
on the couch.

that's when i realize,
it wasn't a dream,
i have made it home.

corner of cherry and ninth

here i sit,

states away,

and this is where i find what i have been looking for,

independence.

i have walked more 

alleys,

than i can began to count.

i wandered across

a campus bigger than

rhode island,

and it is here,

that i found it.

in fact, 

its not where i am,

its who i am.

i just had to get away

and run from what was behind.

i can walk every street

and not care,

that i am alone.

after nights laying awake,

wondering where "he" may be,

i realized,

what does it matter,

does it change anything 

for me...

no, because i am not relying 

on a single human being,

a being that will make me laugh

or cry or hurt.

whats done is done.

now i can walk,

uninhibited by anything.

today i walked by so many people,

smiled,

as if i were in love,

and the fact is,

i am.

in love with who i have become.

and what i have learned.

4 hours, downtown.

pictures fill my mind,

every step,

a new snapshot,

a different scenario.

i like this,

this seeking,

and finding

kind of adventure.

stories found around

every corner.

stories to make down 

every alley.

the brick walls

beckon for attention

as you wander past

the colors strewn 

across each

rectangle.

outlined with simplest

of lines,

varying in thickness.

it appears to be done 

with the greatest

of ease.

in fact,

a story is revealed.

emotion plays through your mind

and tricks your eyes

into believing

something that is a lie.

the colors are just a release

of pressure 

that is building 

within your body 

or heart.

its like youre defying something

the law,

but thats the thrill,

regardless of whether you are caught,

you placed a masterpiece 

on a wall of concrete,

for anyone to walk by

and feel your vulnerability,

rebellion, tears,humor

and joy.

thanks for sharing 

that with the world,

with the possibility 

that you could get caught.

remains of the day

I walk through those doors,
Those large glass sometimes wooden gallery doors,
I breathe in,
The feelings I get when I sit down on the concrete are unlike any other,
Everything is left on the other side of those doors,
Every negative emotion is hidden away,
Somewhere in the dark sky outside,
Subtle mumbled sounds can be heard from the open space next door,
A slight sound of piano plays faintly,
Faintly enough to trigger tranquility.
As I sit here,
Indian style,
This is the only place I can feel alive,
My imagination soars,
As Neal’s paintings hang on the wall,
I sit in the corner and view the open space 
From all the angles.
Destruction and raw emotion 
Reside in his paintings,
They beckon for your attention.
Brightly colored,
And highly saturated,
With textures falling off the canvas,
I wait and take it all in,
The lights from above,
Rest on my skin,
As if I am a piece of this place.
Tangled webs of pen on paper
Hang in black frames,
Those are my favorite,
Every color possible resting 
In scribbles on scraps.
I feel like I blend in,
As if I am supposed to be here,
As if I am invited to sit on display as well,
The canvases are large and slightly overwhelming,
It is here that I find 
Peace.

Peace of mind,
A time to clear my thoughts,
A moment to stare,
As if the seconds aren’t flying by.
All the panic of the past few days,
Are gone.
My heart is still, 
No longer racing to keep up
With the outside world.
I can breathe 
And not feel constricted,
I can be inspired by the smallest of things.

I drag out my easel,
And some newsprint,
And channel every bit of the negativity surrounding me,
Ebony in hand, I draw loosely,
The lines before me take on contours.
Contours of a figure,
Believed to be a woman.
This is the best 
And most free I have been in the past weeks.
I am noticed by those wandering,
In and out of those doors,
Back out into the night sky, 
Where all the emotions hide.
Go ahead and leave,
Instead of sit,
And deal with everything
You suppress.

On the other hand,
I will do whatever it takes
To get it out.
To stop the worry,
The pain, and anxiety.
I will deal with it,
For all to see.
I have now become,
A part of this gallery.
And as I take a few steps back,
I look at the lines,
That I have blindly drawn,
And I am proud.
Before me lies,
Everything inside,
On a piece of paper.
Nothing prohibiting me,
Nothing holding me back from feeling,
Alive.

Walking through those doors,
Have done great things for me.
Everyday when I walk in,
I am alive.
I am new.
I can breathe,
And channel everything around me,
Into something,
Worth feeling,
And appreciating.

better than the same

The two of you are vital,

You walk, he drives,

The same path every morning,

Every evening.

 

He stole the role

You used to play,

He touches with the greatest

Of ease.

You are tainted with a love

That is lost,

Because of the actions

You took

After you got there.

 

He doesn’t know you,

Your name never comes off her lips.

Your ring sits in a box,

Tucked far beneath

Every shirt

In the back of her drawer.

 

You know nothing about him,

The answers would be to hard

For you to swallow.

The fact that she has someone

Far greater,

Your replacement.

 

The hurt can be seen

In your eyes

From miles away.

Everyone knows your motives

For her pain.

You want her to feel

The way she made you feel,

A long time ago.

A time which you claimed

She was forgiven,

Only to hold it

Over her head

For the next year.

 

She turns around,

Smiling,

Knowing that there is nothing

She can do

As her back becomes

Your only view.

Say goodbye,

To every happy moment

You had.

Every ray of sunshine

She brought you every morning.

 

She now pulls the curtains back

For someone new,

For him.

He smiles at her,

Every chance he gets.

He is shocked by the way

She stands

And demands

The presence of every room.

 

Her passion

Is even clearer

Than before.

Her art is dripping

With the pain

You have provided for her.

But underneath it all,

She will never be

That vulnerable,

Ever again.

 

At least she can tell

A true story.

At least she can warn,

Every other one.

 

He watches her,

Closely,

Yearning for her to be close,

Closer than she was to you.

You ultimately controlled her,

She became a puppet,

With your hand

Playing the strings

Oh so perfectly,

As if you had done it before.

 

With every part of her being,

She wanted it to be different,

But you wouldn’t let her breathe

On her own.

 

He lets her run,

For days.

And chases her,

Laughing.

Together,

They meet in the middle,

And everyone can see

The smile on her face

Is real,

As it resonates.

 

He makes her feel,

Something she hasnt before,

She feels comfortable,

In her own skin.

The skin you tried to change.

You were close,

But then she burnt the bridge

That aided you.

 

Watch the flames burn,

In your heart,

And before your eyes,

All you are is smoke

In the sky.

He has taken her pain away,

So she can be free,

And fly.

 

She flys

And finds adventure

Around every corner,

Every corner

That you were to lazy

To look behind.

 

She looks in the mirror

And feels worthy

Of every glance she receives.

He is quirky

And can match every move

Of hers with one even better.

They dance

As goofy as possible,

And laugh even louder,

Their songs are different.

 

He carries a song

with a profound beat

As hers plays out,

With an acoustic sound,

They collide

And beautiful music is created,

With a harsh constant thump

And the melody flowing from her lips.

 

She is soaring,

No longer on this path

called life,

No longer trudging.

Look up,

You will find her

In your dreams,

Doing what she has always craved.

to:then from:now

From this moment forward,

You stay here. Here.

You were then,

And I am now.

 

I have become something,

I used to hide.

I do need people,

But not always.

 

I am the standard,

To some.

To those that appreciate,

Everything I am.

 

I am a lie,

To you,

The one that fails,

To remember.

 

My laughter

Is now,

Contagious,

And real.

 

Each day  

Presents something

Great

Before these eyes.

 

I have said,

All I can,

I have done

All I want.

 

Time is

Everything,

As I watch

This countdown.

 

Its ticking,

To my end.

To your end,

To our end.

 

The end

Has come,

Neither of  us

Care.

 

Cold hearted

You sit,

Warm spirited

I run.

 

The past

Is not

A lie

For me.

 

I believe

Everything

It used

To be.

 

You cringe

At the thought

Of me

Replacing you.

 

I walk

Away.

With a better

Understanding.

 

You stand,

Confused,

Yet craving,

What I have.

 

The bottle

In your hand.

Papers

On the floor.

 

You write

Stories of me

For others

To find.

 

Warnings

Of love,

Sit

At your feet.

 

You

Walked out

In your head

Long ago.

 

I played

The field,

Always

In the game.

 

Art

Reflects my soul.

Everything

That is inside.

 

Selfish

I used to be.

Now,

I share.

 

Raw,

I stand,

For all

To see.

 

3 pages,

4 days,

Nothing

Will remain.

 

These words

Are for you.

For you

To know.

 

To know

I still think,

About the one

You are.

 

I know,

That you sit,

Silent, with tears

In your eyes.

 

Your plan

Has failed,

Because

I forgive.

 

All I wanted

Was for you

To see a piece

Of who I am.

 

Who I am

Is not

Who I was

That one time.

 

My eyes burn

From the lack

Of sleep

This week.

 

Projects,

Life,

Have all hit

At once.

 

I guess

You’re somewhat

Right, when you say,

I have moved.

 

Moved on,

And out,

Of that phase,

You claim.

 

Words disappear,

So have we.

We have changed,

Apart from each other.

 

Individuals,

With history,

Stand side by side,

No words to say.

 

Next to me,

With no

Expression,

You stare.

 

Blank and cold,

Its all I recall,

From those

Late nights.

 

Curious and sly,

Is all I

Tried

To hide.

 

These words,

Will fade,

Just like

Those days.

 

Those days,

Hang

On your walls,

And mine.

 

And you

Yes YOU,

Will remain,

Only in that moment.

 

That moment,

Of then.

 

This moment,

Is now.

 

From this point forward,

You are not erased, not forgotten,but

You, you will no longer appear,

In this life ahead.

porcelain and denim

it sits,

and waits for her to sip it away.

the taste,

dark, blackening with every intake,

as she puffs it out,

her lungs are set free.

hints of cigar, wine and coffee,

lay on her breath,

as his lips reach her forehead

before her eyes close to the world before it.

bare porcelain and in jeans,

she lays.

silently.

his hands create a warmth

that she has yet to feel 

until now.

the sun rises

peers in the window,

as she rolls over,

blocking out all light.

the mug still on the side,

and she takes a sip,

its dark, blackening with every intake

as it awakes 

something inside.

another day has passed,

and night falls again,

as bare porcelain

sits in her jeans,

a mug at her lips,

she takes in every flavor

that the elixir has given her,

dark, blackening with every intake.

it has warmed her ,

on the coldest of days,

awaken her,

on the worst ones,

kept her alive,

on the dreary ones,

and the darkest of tastes,

has brought

a smile...

to her porcelain face.

{at the coffee pot, study break}

wednesday

the sound of car horns

and lights in the air,

the night is crisp,

with a brisk chill,

the intersection frozen,

red turns green,

your hand grasps mine,

and we run,

like we are free,

across the street,

my arm locks

around your waist,

and yours 

rests on my shoulders,

our steps are in unison,

and our laughter is heard

from miles away,

smiles are constant,

your hand in mine,

i feel it.

walking the yellow line,

right down the middle,

these moments, 

are memorable.

as you walk me up the  steps,

i can feel it,

its growing inside of me.

this used to be nothing, 

i avoided this

for awhile,

i failed to give you a chance,

and now...

i can't imagine 

forgetting this night.

on this night,

age is a number,

we act like..

kids on the playground,

when in reality,

we are adults,

running freely,

not a care in the world....

i'm glad i took your hand

and gave you a chance,

you took this cold spirit

and warmed my soul.

now we stand here,

silently embraced

at the top of the steps,

i feel your hands 

warm my neck,

as i look up 

and our eyes meet,

our lips graze

and then lock,

and i feel it,

you,

give me chills,

that warm my spine,

and as i turn to go inside

a slight glimpse 

of you is all i have 

as i disappear,

into the night.

the night will go as follows

In a romantic fashion 
I will experiment with my fear right before her eyes 
And every smile that's unveiled will be soaked 
In my nervous charm 

Then I'll say 
"Is everything alright? 
There's been a few things I've been meaning 
To let go of tonight" 
And she will say 
"Everything's just fine 
So you can put an end to your worrying mind" 
And then our lips will collide 

The August sky will then bare witness 
To a brand new chapter with torn up pages 
When the planets align, I can feel the gates opening 
To my courage 
As I proceed to run my fingers through her hair 
And forget everyone who's jaded, 'cause they don't matter 
And I don't care 

In a confident fashion 
I will admit my deepest and darkest to her 
And every gaze across the table 
Will send my unsuspecting body into shock 

Then I'll say 
"Would you like to go inside? 
And forget the world and the rules 
By which we are to abide" 
And she will say 
"There's nothing I want more" 
As we step into the room, turn off the lights and close the door 

The August sky will then bare witness 
To a brand new chapter with torn up pages 
When the planets align, I can feel the gates opening 
To my courage 
As I proceed to run my fingers through her hair 
And forget everyone who's jaded, 'cause they don't matter 
And I don't care 
No, 'cause they don't matter 
And I don't care 

Brash and hopeful 
That my luck will not perish tonight 
When the overcast tries to kill me 
It's your slow motion rain 
That falls warm on my neck that keep me alive 

Brash and hopeful 
That my luck won't perish tonight 
And when the overcast tries to kill me 
It's your slow motion rain 
That falls warm on my neck that keep me alive 

Brash and hopeful 
That my luck will not perish tonight 
And when the overcast tries to kill me 
It's your slow motion rain 
That falls warm on my neck that keep me alive 

Consider this song a testament 
Of my devotion to your sacharrine scent 
And to be completely honest 
You're not like all the rest 
You're not like all the rest 

Consider this song a testament 
Of my devotion to your sacharrine scent 
And to be completely honest 
You're not like all the rest 
You're not like all the rest 
Oh no, you're not like all the rest 
You're not like all the rest 
You're not like all the rest

in the corner

pieces of me still hang on your walls,

as i curl up with chills 

on the corner of this couch.

this couch, that holds memories of before,

of when you showered me in kisses

and we fell asleep to late night movies,

my bobby pins are still by the sink,

right where i left them,

and your laundry piles up

without anyone willing to do it.

your loft is as cold as ice,

you sit afar,

on the other side of this empty room

playing a melody on your guitar

a melody that just comes to mind

with the drop of your hat

your talent astounds me,

and your love even more,

you love now frozen,

with the other tv dinners.

you are alone,

with a face that fakes it.

and i am silently sobbing

as you turn your back,

when you glance over at me

i give you the same face that i have been given

upon each time of our meeting,

for what its worth,

i miss you.

hunger.

i have this hunger,

to do more, to see more.

to accomplish more.

everyone around me 

is out.

seeing, feeling, 

and doing.

thirst.

i have this thirst,

for everything 

new.

adventure,

i crave.

YOU,

i want even,

more.