judgment

my entire life
is the struggle
of deciding
if you're
good for me

don't ask me
which side
is winning

and... him iii.

that day
when your mom
let me in
and I caught you
dancing around your room
with your headphones in
singing at the top
of your lungs
I stood there for
ten minutes before
you saw me
hoping you would
never stop

angels wear pink dresses

there's a boy at her school who wears pink every day
once she stood outside alone with him, staring at his busted lip
she asked him why

Because her car was pink. Her bedroom walls too. Because her mom wouldn't let her dye her hair pink and when she pouted about it I didn't tell her I liked her natural color better. Because she bought me a pink shirt she never got to see me wear. Because she loved standing outside at that moment in the middle of the sun setting when the whole earth is tinged pink and she couldn't be buried at that time of day. Because there's still an old tube of her brightest pink lipstick in my glove box. Because when she blushed her own shade of pink it was the prettiest thing in the world. Because if there is such a thing as God, I know he gave her a pink dress to go with her wings and I want to match her every day to make up for the promise I won't get to keep on prom night. I have a million reasons, but it's mainly because my most important one isn't here.

making up

I stared
at your back
across the bed,
unsure whether to
roll over or
reach out and
touch you.

trash

I took all the things
I couldn't throw away
and put them in a box
with a random address on it.

Maybe they'll do it for me.

taking a breather

                       I needed
to air my self out today.
So I took off my skin
and hung it on a clothesline.
Put on my spare one
and wore it for the day.

What I need at 3 a.m.

I didn't want a
love poem and you
didn't give me one.
Instead you offered
Cokes over late
night video games
played half-delirious
and Cheeto wars.
The cheese licked
off my fingers satisfied
me more than a kiss
ever could.

and... him ii.

that day
when you first
held my hand
I had to keep myself
from squeezing
too hard
in fear you would
let go

and... him i.

that night
on the phone
when you fell asleep
I finally hung up
simply because
my phone died

and... her iv.

every night
when you
say good night
and I say
it back
I lie
because then it
isn't anymore

and... her iii.

that night
on our road trip
when you told me
to count
each bright light
as a moment
you would love me
I counted
flashing lights
more than once

still here (maybe)

occasionally
we all feel like
the empty soda can
that has sat
for weeks
on your desk

needs

one
word

from
you

that's
it

of me

why do I let days
fall, sand
into glass,
never hard enough
to shatter?

flip over my hourglass.
we'll watch it longer
than we did before.

some days

we sitso close and our
smiles reflecteach other
and we breathe
in thesame air andyou
smell good.


other days
there is only the aftermath
and the faintest hint
of where you
brushed up against me.

touchology

they call it chemistry
because when your
skin leaves mine
I can hear
bygones of bonds
snapping and
eons of electrons
weeping for
lost soul mates

and... her ii.

that day
when it rained
I said
I stood that close
to you
for the umbrella
but I didn't mind
getting wet

-wink-

did you know
1+1=3

no?

funny,
I swear we had
that class together

and... her i.

that night
with the shooting star
when you asked
I didn't tell you
I wished
that you wished
for me

footprints

mud squished.
under my shoe
and a curse slipped.
out of my muth

with. disgust
I jerked back
and stared at. the
solitary footprint.

she leaned forward.
and lined up
her foot with the
imprint. of mine

when she. drew away
her footprint rested
inside of mine.
and she laughed

I grinned.
knowing. the image
was inverted

Fishing for a Living

Cast a fishing line down
your throat,
hook all the words that are
hiding there,
and yank them up between
your teeth.

If they should be lured
to bite,
dig through the mud in
my eyes
to find my words squirming to
get free.

fully formed

let me count your knuckles
     [one, two, three]
each a time we've come this close
     [four, five, six]
bumps under my fingers I know well
     [seven, eight, nine]
the space between longer and more prominent
     [ten, eleven, twelve]
held together by threads thin as self
     [thirteen, fourteen, fifteen]
easy to slide over, as if never there
     [sixteen, seventeen, eighteen]
but if I bent them back to feed you
     [nineteen, twenty, twenty-one]
they would fall heavy on your tongue
     [twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four]
and roll in your stomach like bad memories
     [twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven]
on the last knot, I wait for skin to grow
     [twenty-eight]

freeze

he called her name
     heard it in sounds
     not her shape

he stepped into the front yard
                  into the cold
     saw her sitting
                  growing a skin of snow

he crunched toward her
     laid his hand on her shoulder
                           with the curves of concern

she moved away
      left dimensions unspoken
      in the miniscule space created

-come inside.
--I'm enjoying the cold.
-
-
-
--it gives me the shivers you used to.

growing up

do you ever
think of the time
they said they'd
tell you when you
grew up
so you went
and tied bricks
to your feet
and trudged back
then they laughed
so hard they
couldn't tell you?

jalopy

the paint is peeling
the seats are ripped
the tires leak air
the radio doesn't get FM
the back doors stick
the brake pedal squeaks
the AC doesn't work
and there is no muffler
but it always gets me
to you

recharged

you are so full of energy
so full of life
and I am a dead battery
that needs recharging

Lines We Live In

                       Once
we were who we were
before     our lives could be
expressed in numbers able
to be counted     the lines drawn
around how we felt and who
we felt it for were bold and
unblurred

                       Do you ever miss that?

holding hands

her grip
felt more like
preventing me
from leaving
than wanting me
to stay

Degree of Exposure

when the tide lapped our feet
hungry for the salt off our skin
we woke

we pulled away from each other
despite the resistance from our bodies
sticking with sweat

outlined in sudden white against your chest
my hand, fingers splayed too short, grasping
you looked, laughed

then traced a stinging line across my neck
the dips and ridges of your face branded
must mean more

for keeps

a day without a
date-you left
your jacket here

today I found
it; slumped, dying;
in back of the closet

it held you,
your shape, closer
even to a ghost

and your smell
explored creases and
cracks of leather

I put it on
a wire hanger,
closed the door

you have other
jackets

you're welcome

Don't thank me
for the tears I cried
over you.

(you may have noticed
how puffy my eyes are)

Don't thank me
for cleaning up your mess
when you broke my heart.

(by the way,
I need that piece back)

Don't thank me
for smiling
when I see you.

(it's only because
I can't help it)

Don't thank me
for moving on
to him.

(he has your eyes
except

They are all mine.)

Thank you.

National Poetry Writing Month + A Hiatus Update

April 1st marks a special day in my writing life. It is the first day of National Poetry Writing Month, or
NaPoWriMo for short. NaPoWriMo is a month-long challenge where the goal is to write a poem every day. This will be my third year participating.

Many participants post their poems online and I am one of them. A poem will be put up later today and then every day after until May 1st. To see my past poems, you can go to my Samples page or scroll through the posts under my NaPoWriMo label. If you are interested in seeing others poems, there is a list of participants' sites on the NaPoWriMo site.

I've been looking forward to NaPoWriMo. Last year, it helped me get through an emotional time. I'm hoping that this year it will help me work out my thoughts and feelings about various things going on in my life right now. W. H. Auden said, "Poetry might be defined as the clear expression of mixed feelings." I believe he's right.

In preparation for NaPoWriMo, I bought a new notebook. It's bitty and fits in my hand. This makes it easy for me to carry it around. You never know when inspiration will strike. Also, I have a few ideas stored in my head that should get me through the first few days. I'm ready!

If you would like to take part in NaPoWriMo as well, check out their website. Don't forget to add your blog to the participants' list if you are going to be posting your poems.

However, though I will be posting very regularly in April, I am not officially coming out of my semi-hiatus. While I am nearly ready for it, my life is not. If that makes sense. But soon. I think it will be soon. Until then, my only posts should be my poems. Just as a warning. ;P