I’ve been told I make an impact

But I don’t think that’s true

Because whatever change I’ve created

Was first thought of by you

A knock on the door sounded

But I didn’t bother getting up to see

Because I know deep inside that

They are not here looking for me

I’ve gotten used to losing people

Tally marks on my arm can tell

And this year alone I’ve lost

The boy who made me check my email.

I pulled myself out of that rip tide

And up to your sheltering beach

I told you my secrets and stories

But all this time you’ve been drifting out of reach

I had thought you were solid

A warm tropical paradise

But I find that you are mobile

A moving mass of ice.

Some may call you an iceberg

But you will never be that to me

And I only wish we could go back

To how things used to be

I was told how to live my life,

By people who didn’t know me,

And I am not a fledgling anymore,

So I think it’s time to be free

The stars never looked like,

constellations to you,

but you liked how constant they were,

throughout everything you’d do

I don’t look at picture of the past,

Because they always make me remember,

The girl I used to be,

And how much I miss her.

My name used to be the only constant thing,

That ever belonged to me,

Until you turned it into a weapon,

Telling me how to be

Pack your sadness in a suitcase,

And walk out the door,

Because your mind won’t stop telling you,

That they don’t need you anymore

You must understand my sweet,

That people both break and build you,

And only you can decide to crumble,

Or become something new.

My happiness left me last night,

And I felt it slip away,

But I’ve been a foolish little girl,

So that is why I didn’t beg it to stay

Take my wings and rip them out,

Because they are both a blessing and curse,

And dearest people who are jealous of me:

Don’t you see I have it worse?

The freedom is there right in front of me,

And I have wings which could make me fly,

But doubt is such a deadly thing,

That it chains me in sight of the sky.

Certain things have clung to my soul,

Like I cling onto the memories of you,

And I wonder how many people don’t let go,

Of things they ought to.

Plant me in a garden darling,

And I can’t say that I will sprout,

But plant me in a meadow my sweet,

And I will let my flower out.


Oh hunny your bones are full of courage,

Your mouth armed with words once held in,

And think it is time you finally stop,

Caring about if you are fat or thin.


You see me as something imperfect,

And you try to tear me down,

But oh silly girl don’t you know,

I never stay on the ground?


Your words hit like bullets,

Each one meant to wound me,

But I won’t let you take down the girl,

I sacrificed so much to be.


You mock my words with a smile,

Anyone else would call sweet,

But my stomach clenches into a ball,

Whenever we meet.


You place the label friends,

And I can’t help being nice again,

Even though I can never tell,

If it is real or pretend.


No matter what you say,

Or the bad things you do,

It’s like you are a magnet,

And I always come back to you.


You are no longer the same girl anymore hunny,

And maybe that is the cause of your fear,

Because you had that girl mapped out perfectly,

And now she is no longer here.


You can eat meals at the table with guests,

And speak passionately about the things you got scars from,

And oh hunny don’t you see that you can be,

Proud of this girl you’ve become?



I am living in the time of my life,

Where everything is broken thanks to you,

And I just keep wishing myself into the time,

When I’ve finally found my glue.

Don’t be like the rest of them darling,

Because that life will never do for you,

And there is a world just waiting to be changed,

By all that you do.


I know a girl with a paper heart

And I see her every day

I hold her as she cries for a boy

Who never looked her way


She flirts in a voice that is golden

Her tone sweet and simple

And no matter what she does

They fall in love with other people


I only wish that she could know

How easy it is to love her

And she always gives the wrong people

The cutters to her flower.





She had always been a flower,

One of millions by the road side,

And as they held their beauty contests,

Her petals drooped and she cried.


She was not the prettiest or smartest,

The most cunning or bold,

And as brilliant as her mind was,

She believed the lies the other flowers told.


So one day by the road side,

She let her glossy yellow petals fall,

Because for pain and beauty,

She had no need at all.


So when the children came to pluck,

They did not want her,

So they left her bare by the roadside,

The last remaining summer flower.


While the meadow flowers mocked,

She smiled happily,

Because this sad little flower,

Was finally happy.





You didn’t like your differences,

So you packed them all away,

Put them inside an iron cage,

And turned normal that day.


You didn’t like your smile anymore,

Now that you knew it was not straight,

And you sucked in your breath at the pool.

Now that you were ashamed of your weight.


You started to crumble because,

Normal would never do,

And I clenched my fists as I watched,

The different go out of you.


You confidence shattered,

And fell from you to the ground,

While I was stuck watching you with the people,

You had to be normal around.


You practiced writing your name neatly,

Like all the other people seemed to do,

And I saw tears slid down your freckled cheeks,

As your spidery signature was still you.


Your croaky morning voice changed,

To silence in the air,

And you fussed over,

Your “ugly” curled hair.


The mirror image of you,

Was sucked of all the different,

And your stormy blue eyes,

Didn’t glint.


You took all your differences,

And locked them in a cage tightly,

And when you did this,

You took the different out of me.


My smile withered away,

Because it wasn’t coaxed out by you,

And my laugh disappeared,

Because it wasn’t a prize for what you would do.


When you locked away your differences,

You took mine along too,

Because I can’t be me,

Unless you are you.



Biology Boy


She’s drawing abstract on her notes,

Not worried a bit about Chemistry,

Because all she can think about is the boy,

She passed by in Biology.


If she had more courage and less fear,

Her name would come with a smile and wink,

Because the girl she wants to be,

Doesn’t care what people think.


But she sees his blue eyes and falters,

Her mouth stumbling on familiar ground,

That she can make witty jokes on,

Without him around.


So she just smiles and doodles,

Because she has learned enough about Chemistry,

From the boy that she sees every day,

As she passes Biology.

You say the stars are too far away,

And for me to look lower,

But let me tell you the story of a girl,

Who never believed what people told her.

She was born bathed in sunlight,

With sparks  in her eyes and dots on her skin,

She was fearless and brave,

With a world within.

She made a rocket out of paper,

With words dribbled in black ink,

Shooting the stars a message,

“I’m starting to care what people think.”

She was growing up and learning,

And hearing the whispers in the hall,

The stars peered down in pity,

“I don’t belong in this world at all.”

So one day she decided,

She would disappear from it,

And so she sunk into the stars,

To hopefully forget.

We always remember our first love,

No matter the date,

Because the moment we met them,

We knew it was fate.



You said you loved me today,

And I felt myself sadden,

Because I knew I would probably,

Not hear it from you again.


Saying that is a commitment,

One I don’t think you know,

Because most of the people who say that to me,

In the end always go.


You said it bravely and casual,

As if you were born with the phrase,

But I am afraid to say it back,

Because you might leave one of these days.


You might figure out I’m hard,

Quirky, weird, and complicated,

But “I love you,”

You still said.




Honey you cannot control his heart,

And change what is in the past,

But you can learn from all of it,

Make things now last.



Can we talk one last time?

I promise I won’t say what I want to,

Or cry because you are leaving,

And I love you.


I just want to look into your green eyes,

And see what I find there,

Because selfishly my heart wants,

To see that you still care.


For me to convince you,

That you should stay with me,

Instead of going off,

And becomming free.

School Kids

I’ve been pushed down so many times,

You’d think I would know to keep my tears underneath my eyelids,

Ignoring, turning up the music,

Running from the school kids.

He’s just a lost little boy,

Who still has bruises in places you can’t see,

From his brothers and friends,

And words like knives sounding like honey.



Air Plane

You were a paper airplane,

Folding yourself in,

But haven’t you learned darling,

You’ll never be just right again?


You can change your shape,

Fold up the flat piece of paper you are,

And let yourself fly but in the end,

You’ll have a scar.


You never were happy,

With your the way you were,

Always trying to change yourself,

Until you looked like her.


The wind might feel good,

And the view might look pretty,

But by folding yourself in,

You’re hating yourself and body.





She’s had another bad day,

And feels herself crumbling down,

She’s stuck in sadness so deep,

She is sure she is going to drown.


She doesn’t know what to do,

Listening to music to try and block it all out,

Locking the bathroom door to cry,

Left in the silence to wonder about.


She in a hole so deep and dark,

There is no light of day,

And she’s deeper than rock bottom,

Trying to find a way.


Her voice is just a creak is the silence,

A sound hardly ever heard,

And in her silence suffering,

She hardly says a word.


She whispers secrets into the blackness,

That is trying to drag her under,

“Is it really worth it?”,

She starts to wonder.


She holds herself in her arms,

Wrapped up in her favorite sweater,

As she tries to block it all out,

About how nobody loved her.


When times got hard she smiled,

Stuffing all the sadness behind it,

Waiting for people to turn away,

And forget.










I met a boy without a smile once,

Emptiness where one used to be,

So I let him borrow mine,

And said, “Smile for me.”

But he was not a nice boy,

And he liked my smile alot,

So when I asked him to return it,

He said he would not.

And I think I finally know why,

So many people can’t smile true:

They get their smiles stolen by sad people,

Just like I had mine stolen by you.

She was asked one day at school,

“Why do you flinch at everything?”

Well maybe when someone swung at her,

They were not kidding.




Oh dearling I know,

You are hating your body,

But please just eat a little,

For you and for me.


I don’t want to know the lie,

“I ate before I came,”

Because a little while ago,

I used to say the same.


I hated my body,

Every single inch of it,

And in every pair of out-grown jeans,

I wanted to fit.


I lied until I believed it:

That I had eaten or wasn’t hungry,

Because I was so busy hating,

Wanting to be skinny.


I never stopped to realize,

I was hurting myself and my body,

And I did the hardest thing:

I started trying to love me.


It is hard dearling to love something,

That you told yourself you hated,

But I wish you would start eating,

And so the same thing I did.


I can’t tell you that it is easy,

Because good things hardly ever are,

But all the hurt and sadness,

Will soon fade to a scar.


You need to eat dearling,

For you and for me,

Because I know the price,

Of hating your body.





For Caroline

I know a girl who loves sunrises,

Who wakes up early to see them,

And while staring at the tangerine,

She remembers him.


She never misses the color,

That brightens up the east every day,

Thinking that if she misses one,

She will loose him in a way.


So she wakes up 6:13 am,

And sips from a pastel blue cup,

As she waits quietly for,

The view from her window to light up.


Every color brings a memory of him,

Cerulean, saffron, and apricot,

And in these quiet mornings,

He is in her every thought.


Some days she can’t sit still at all,

And so she rubs oil pastels on paper,

Trying to capture what it is,

And what it means to her.


She is watches every new day,

Light up with the colors of dawn,

And every day she faces the reality:

He is gone.


I know a girl who watches the sunrise,

And makes beautiful pastel art,

Thinking of the boy,

Who has her heart.

The Boy I Used to Know

For Nath.


I saw a boy I grew up with,

Walk right by me yesterday,

And my mouth swallowed the words,

That I wanted to say.


I wanted to ask him about his family,

And how his last soccer game went,

To hear him laugh loudly,

And lecture me in a british accent.


I wanted to ask if he missed me,

The person he use to quote Disney to,

And laugh at his silly answers,

But he is not the boy I once knew.


The boy I once knew used to,

Give me coins every time he saw me,

And I put them in a tall jar,

But that was from the boy he used to be.


When he walked by me without a look,

I tried to remember that I had changed too,

But not all the change in the world,

Could change me from being the girl he knew.


Maybe that is the difference,

Between him and me that I know:

He lets go of things without a fight,

And I cling to them when I grow.


But when he walked past me,

I let it loose and let it go,

Because he is no longer the boy,

I used to know.







It’s okay to be scared darling,

But it is not ok to be told,

What to be afriad of and to believe it,

Just because you are not feeling bold.


Fit In

Oh dearest just because you fit in,

Doesn’t mean it is where you belong truly,

Because sometimes fitting in,

Does not set you free.


Her life is a stage,

Wearing all faces but her own,

Afraid that once she plays her real part,

She’ll find herself alone.


She stands in the spotlight,

Acting the part,

And she lets a facade fall,

To hide her broken heart.


The theater is about humor,

And love and tragedy,

“I can escape from my problems,”

She once told me.


But how is it escaping,

Hiding it all beneath a mask or act,

Pretending that her heart is whole,

And not cracked?


The theater is her home,

Where she acts the part,

Pretending to be someone else,

Without a broken heart.


One day I hope she will tell me,

Who broke her heart in pieces,

But kept the biggest part,

To call his.







She will not worry of things,

Out of her control and reach,

But isn’t that what the swimmer said,

Before she lost sight of the beach?


There is one thing about bullies,

That I know to be true,

And that is how they feel about themselves,

Is how they treat you.


A girl I once met was insercure,

But said she was not,

And so by bringing me down,

She tried to influence how she thought.


Boys who laughed at my brother,

While pulling out his chair,

Were only pretending,

That they didn’t care.


Sharp words nestle in,

All the places you were secure,

Leaving you wondering why other word’s,

Have the power to make you feel bitter.



You never outgrow bullies,

You are never too old to feel like less,

But the truth about bullies is:

They treat you with the feelings they  never confess.




A girl who had a broken heart,

Met a boy with a broken wrist,

But a heart cannot heal like a bone,

And he was not the boy she missed.


You sat down next to me,

And I think I forgot how to breathe,

But then I told myself,

“Like the others he is going to leave.”

She was the adventurer,

And I was the person who hated leaving:

She was ok with falling in love and having to go,

And I hated to leave behind anything.



There is poetry inside of me,

That no paper can ever handle,

So it clings to ever spare part of me,

Enchanting, mysterious and beautiful.



It has such power that simple paper,

Would burn from the force of it,

All about a quiet girl with curly hair,

Who was thought to be a misfit.


It is not the type of poetry for paper,

Because paper is not the thing to hold,

Such powerful war-starting words,

That this misfit girl told.

Some poetry is not for paper,

And some only is because it lacks the passion,

That is outlining every single letter,

In this one.

Beautiful Poetry

Beautiful is just a word darling,

Not a standard you must live up to,

Because you have always been that,

And more to those who really love you.


Your skin is not flawed by freckles,

But given a distinctive and exquisite glow,

And you are not too short at all,

Because you still can grow.


Your teeth are enduringly crooked,

And your nose wrinkles up when you frown,

And you have the alluring power,

To make people feel happy when they are down.


Your hair smells like coconut and sandalwood,

And it curls whenever it is wet,

Because darling you are enchanting poetry,

In a world still learning the alphabet.


You might not always be the person,

People want to meet and talk to,

But that is only because they,

Have yet to get to know you.

Once they meet you darling,

They won’t ever forget you,

Because you are brilliant and bright,

Captivating beauty in everything you do.

I only wish you could see what I do,

And not try to live up to the standard,

You have already surpassed,

Because beautiful is just a word.


It could never capture you just right,

Or describe you to people that you have just  met,

Because darling you are lovely poetry,

In a world learning the alphabet.





You are so afriad to be forgotten,

To forget who you are,

That you don’t care that your mark on this world,

Is a great and terrible scar.




He said he was scared and I asked,

“Of what?” and he told me,

“I’m scared because I have started,

To forget who I want to be.”


Birds are not jealous of others,

Flying and soaring in the sky,

They know their wings are there,

But waiting for the right moment to fly.


There’s an old abandoned swing set,

In a cleared off place,

And that is the last spot,

I ever saw your face.


It used to be a school,

Where a boy and girl met,

He wanted to remember everything,

And she wanted to forget.


He didn’t want to let memories,

Slip through his fingers and away,

To have inside his head,

Until he forgot one day.


She didn’t want to remember,

People she missed and things she regretted,

“I don’t want to remember,”

To him she said.


He told her life was good and bad,

You just had to live with it,

But for her there was only one option:

To forget.


They grew up and argued,

She wanted to leave and forget,

But he wanted her to stay with him,

And always remember it.

The girl was foolish to run from her past,

And the boy never understood,

Why forgetting was what she did,
Instead of remembering like she should.

I’m sorry I left you there,

By the old and rusted swing set,

Because love was scary and new,

And I fearfully wanted to forget.

The school is long gone,

Emptiness in its place,

But the swing set is what I didn’t forget,

Because it’s where I last saw your face.




He had the most beautiful eyes,

That made me want to tell him,

“Your eyes are an ocean,

And I don’t know how to swim.”


I avoided his glance,

Afraid that if I looked in,

I would never want to leave,

The crystal blue again.


He is like a life guard,

With a dark surfer’s tan,

He says if I start drowning he can save me,

But I don’t think he can.


I’ll look and be lost,

“People lost at sea,”

And I know after a while,

He will forget me.


My name will be just another one,

On his beautiful ocean eye casualty list,

Just another girl,

His lifeguarding skills missed.


I refuse to lose myself,

Inside the aqua blue sea,

Preferring to lose him,

Than lose me.


So this is to the boy,

With the pair of eyes that are aqua blue,

An ocean I made a boat on:

I won’t drown for you.


I’ve always had the desire,

To climb every perfect tree,

Even when no one else wanted to,

Because they were all different than me.

I always had the want,

To run in a sprinkler when hot,

Instead of pretending to be,

A girl that I am not.


For Faith


A girl I once met,

Never liked her life,

And so she told her story,

With the help of a knife.


She didn’t want to eat much,

And dyed her hair a new color every day,

Trying to think of something worthy,

That made her want to stay.


She set a date one morning,

And said she would follow through,

“But that was,

Before I ever met you.”


She said I made an impact,

But I don’t want to think that way,

All I did was tell her,

What no one else thought to say.


I still will see her sometimes,

Pink hair and rock-band jewelry,

And she is so unique she is the one,

Who made an impact on me.







She smiled when the world didn’t want,

A little bit of brightness and a kind look,

So it banished her inside the pages,

Of her own book.


He sat beside her on the train,

And she folded herself smaller,

“You take up too much space,”

Someone once told her.


But he smiled at her,

A warm and crooked grin,

And maybe he can teach her,

Not to fold herself in.


She is not a thin piece of paper,

To be folded origami small,

And he never listened,

When people said he was too tall.


He asked her questions that,

Made her snort and laugh,

And when they got off together,

She no longer wanted to fold herself in half.


He bought her a doughnut,

And didn’t make her feel small,

With the want to fold herself in,

And not exist at all.


By the end of the day,

She was not hunched over,

And in three more years,

He’ll tell her he loves her.


She won’t fold herself,

And stuff it all in,

Or try to suck in her breath,

Just to be thin.


After a while she finally learned,

To stop folding it all inside,

And finalized realized,

That those people had lied.


And so she was happy,

With the boy she met on the train,

And she will never ever,

Try to fold herself in again.








I rub my eyes,

And clean my glasses,

And I can tell you clearly,

What I am learning in my classes.



I can tell you of a boy,

Who has bruises out of sight,

Who’s parents don’t always welcome him,

When he comes home at night.


A girl who never eats,

But is so so clever,

And if I could choose one person,

I would want to be her.


A boy who says whatever he thinks,

With a goofy smile all fun,

But one if his eyes can’t stay still,

And he is not understood by everyone.


I am learning that love is broken,

When you are here,

And that there are always threats,

That cause anger and fear.


Not everyone is nice and kind,

And not everyone tells you,

The full and honest truth,

Trying to affect what you do.


But there are some nice people,

With worn and old smiles,

With all sorts of grades,

In the report card files.


But what I am learning in my classes,

Is that people and things are lost,

And that people say bad words,

But never want to know the cost.








She brightens every place,

And everywhere she does,

But she is so humble,

She hardly ever knows.



I’m not the same girl,

That I was once was,

Speaking stardust,

And befriending supernovas.


I’ve lost my way,

Admist the cosmos,

Of sparkling light,

And endless shadows.


One thing is another,

And I am not me,

Listening to the stars whisper,

How great I will be.


Of course I feel too much,

I’m a universe of supernovas,

And not a plain unfeeling star,

Like and you and what I once was.


There’s a girl who wears,

A much too big sweatshirt,

And as it swallows her,

She hopes it blocks out all the hurt.


Her brother’s scent still clings,

To the dark navy and blue,

And when the missing comes she wishes,

Things would be as they used to.


She holds it to her chest at night,

Trying to keep him close,

Because it holds the memory,

Of a boy she misses the most.


Everyone morning she wakes up missing,

The best friend she ever had,

Who would make her laugh,

And hold her when things got bad.


She can’t go into her room,

Without the memories in her brain,

Bringing him back,

Only for her to lose him again.


He’s everywhere she looks,

In every room embossed,

Every memory she ever knew,

And it just makes her feel lost.


He there since the beginning,

First steps until sophmore year,

And she holds close to the sweatshirt,

Afraid it too will disappear.


People pat her shoulder,

And whisper experiences,

But she doesn’t look at their faces,

Because they weren’t his.


She wears the sweatshirt,

With a lost look on her face,

Feeling hopelessly sad and lonely,

In every room and place.


The pictures on the walls haven’t,

Been taking away and packed up yet,

And she feels like when that happens,

Everyone will want to forget.


They’ll still remember the boy,

With the goofy smile and crooked grin,

But she will remember everything,

Because the missing comes again.



She’ll remember the small scar,

He had on his left wrist,

And all the things only she knew,

That other people might have missed.

Like the way he wore his ball cap,

Or his stubborn head angle,

The way he threw his back while laughing,

And how a moment with him was never dull.

But other people never knew him,

As well as she did then,

And maybe they don’t remember him,

Like she does when the missing comes again.

She wears his sweatshirt,

Penn state college says the blue,

And to her brother she misses:

She is never going to forget you.







Things I Didn’t Say

We were listening to jazz in the kitchen,

And I had something I wanted to say,

But you were so busy and I was too shy,

So I tucked it away for another day.


In sat on top of my pile,

Of things I always wanted to say but never did,

And of words and thoughts I didn’t,

That I pushed down until they were hid.


It will  be covered soon,

By a new jumble of words that I wanted to say,

But I thought you were too busy and wouldn’t care,

And so soon the urge will go away.


Maybe one day soon,

The want to share and speak will go away,

And I won’t have to have an over a whelming pile,

Of things I didn’t say.

Instead my mind will an empty cavern,

All my thoughts are hidden away in the dark,

All because I had things I wanted to say,

To everyone to make a mark.

I doubt I will have such a pile,

In two years into the future,

And when I am silent people will say,

“I don’t know what is wrong with her.”

What’s wrong is that,

I had so many thoughts to share and words to say,
But everyone seemed too busy,

So I pushed them away.

I put them into a pile,

Of things I never ever said,

And the pile is growing bigger,

Inside of my head.

My head is filled with ugly lies,

Hidding the uglier right,

Girl you are beautiful,

Why are you hating yourself at night?

Losing You

You smile wasn’t as bright,

And somehow deep inside I knew,

That after it all,

I was losing you.


We had battled through the rough,

And tiptoed through the thin,

But after all that,

You’ll never be the same girl again.


I had hoped you would stay,

The girl I knew inside and out,

But now you’ve changed,

And you’re a girl I know nothing about.


Your eyes are still an ocean,

I thought I had explored,

And your smile is a beacon,

I’m always drawn towards.


You look the same but older,

With new knowledge in your eyes,

But there’s a wall I cannot cross,

And I feel helpless after failed tries.


I’m losing you I know,

Because you’ve changed a lot,

And I’m still in love the girl,

That you are not.


I’m clinging to the past,

While you brave on ahead,

“Come on and catch up!”

The new girl I don’t know said.


But you always beat me in races,

Across my front yard,

And things that were easy for you,

For me were always hard.

We said we would be friends,

Until eternity ended,

But you’re not the same girl,

I once befriended.

I’m losing you,

Or the girl you use to be,

Because no matter what,

You’ll always be that same girl to me.

You love change,

And shedding your skin,

And when you do that,

You change what is within.

You slipped out of your own life,

And into another without a thought,

And I’m stuck clinging to a girl,

That you are not.

I’m losing you,

More and more,

And you’ve walked out of my life,

And locked the door.

I don’t know you,

And that is scary,

But somewhere  inside,

I wish you were still friends with me.

I could get to know this girl,

The one you have changed into,

But I don’t think that,

Would ever be enough for you.

You like forgetting the past,

Letting it drift out of reach,

And I’m a horrible swimmer,

To your beautiful beach.

I’ve lost you,

And you have let go of me,

And I hope you like your new life,

Are you more happy?

You had such a cheeky smile,

All mischief, teeth and sweetness,

And I had tell myself we are just friends,

But I can live with that I guess.


I can’t say what color your eyes are,

But I know it is my favorite,

I just don’t have enough bravery,

To really admit it.


I can’t stop thinking of you,

But we are only friends you say,

So for you I’ll be just friends,

Until my liking goes away.





She knows sadness,

And how to brave a smile,

But have you noticed,

That you haven’t see one in a while?


That means it’s more than sadness,

And it’s made her feel less brave,

And it’s spun darkness and lies,

With whatever happiness she gave.


It’s not sadness anymore,

When she is pale and thin,

And so open up your ears,

And start listening to her again.


She’s been trying to tell you,

In her own way,

That she’s is lost,

And hasn’t been feeling ok.


Just listen and cry,

As she tells you the truth,

“I’m afriad I have become,

Another sad and troubled youth.”


He wants to live life without a notebook,

“Things I never said,”

And so with a crooked grin,

He says everything that pops into his head.


He tells girls with big glasses,

That they are perfectly stunning,

But they just hunch their shoulders,

Thinking he is mean.


He whispers to the sad boy,

Who sits next to him in Geometry,

“Hey, don’t be sad!

Want to be friends with me?”


He goofs off and jokes,

With everyone around him,

And just because someone is different,

He doesn’t exclude them.


Everyone loves him,

And says he is pure and golden,

But not once has anyone smiled,

And asked him.


No one asks how his day is,

Or if he is ok,

And when he goes home to an empty house,

He knows it will always be that way.


No one asks the golden child,

If they are feeling low,

And so he smiles all teeth,

Trying not to let his hurt show.


He makes everyone beautiful,

And accepted and strong,

With a grin and laugh he listens,

Even when he thinks your opinion is wrong.


I think we should all,

Try to live life without that notebook,

Because maybe we won’t just a see golden boy,

After our altered outlook.




She asked questions to random strangers,

When she was only in first grade,

And they laughed with a pat on the head,

Saying her curiosity would fade.


Yet she still asks,

About vocal cords and rainbows,

And while her parents laugh,

“Sweetie, nobody knows.”


When she got older,

No one liked her questions,

And so taunted her,

To start asking different ones.


“How to find x in this problem?”

She whispers softly,

And she trapped inside the questions,

That had once made her free.


She wrote them down on paper,

“Why are the kids so mean?”

And she finally learned that nobody,

Answers questions from a teen.


She tried to rebel once,

And ask what she wanted to know,

But she found the air empty,

Because everyone had to go.


They didn’t have time for questions,

Or even for her anymore,

And she trapped all her questions inside,

Closing her mouth which was the door.


If someone had just smiled,

And asked,

She would have told them everything,

That may behind her mask.


But there are no answers,

For lost teens with dark heads,

Who ask so many sad questions,

While lying in their beds.


She tried to open her mouth,

Creaky from disuse,

But all the words that answered the question,

Were just an excuse.


If she had enough courage,

And a listening ear,

She would have asked for answers,

That every teen needed to hear.


But she couldn’t,

And no one turned her way,

So she kept inside her questions,

And faked through another day.


Force of Nature

You were beautiful before,

He came and told you so,

And though he speaks words like honey,

Don’t let him tell you what you know.


I know he smiles like a hurricane,

All power and destruction,

And even though he thinks you are just a girl,

Please don’t just be one.



He is a force of nature,

With eyes as blue as the sky,

But if you don’t be careful,

He is going to sail right by.


He so uncontrollable,

He doesn’t know how to slow down,

To look deep into your eyes,

And fall in love with the beautiful brown.


He doesn’t stop to gasp at your smile,

As rare and beautiful as it is,

Because he doesn’t think,

It is a force of nature like his.


He doesn’t compare your beauty,

So the sky or the sea,

Because he thinks it is only common,

Not a rare variety.


He is a force of nature,

Who tried to stop for you,

But it took too much effort,

So away he flew.


He never saw your beauty,

Worthy enough to compare to nature,

And if he’s spinning his lies to another girl,

I only wish we could warn her.


Tell her about the boy,

Who speaks words like honey,

Smiles like a hurricane,

And has eyes the color of the sea.


He’s a force of  nature,

Who just past the most beautiful one of all,

Just because you were a cliff,

And he didn’t want to fall.


I know he told you are beautiful,

But you were before he said,

So release your own force of nature,

You kept hidden in your head.


Become a tornado,

Blow your sadness everywhere,

And stand at your cliffs edge,

With freedom twined in your hair.







I Don’t Know That Girl Anymore

A girl I once cared about,

Worried what others thought,

And so she decided to be,

A girl that she was not.


She changed so much,

That I didn’t know her anymore,

Always listening to too many opinions,

Worried about how she looked and what she wore.


And one day I saw her,

Passing in the school’s wide hall,

And I realized with a sad start,

I didn’t know this girl at all.


It then I realized,

My care had slipped away,

Because she wasn’t the girl,

I used to miss every day.


She went from caring too much,

And changing herself completely,

To not worrying at all,

Or noticing me.


She shut herself off,

And became so uncaring,

I don’t know that girl anymore,

Because she has changed everything.




I grew up with a girl,

Who had a story trapped inside,

And it wanted to escape,

But she stopped it every time it tried.


She didn’t think the world was ready,

For the story that she never let go,

And people couldn’t argue,

Because they didn’t know.


They only saw a girl,

Who some thought was pretty,

But they never guessed about,

A trapped inner story.


When she grew to be a teenager,

She tried to let it free,

But it stayed stuck in the cage,

All sad and weighty.


She had grown so used to,

Hiding it away,

That when she tried to release it,

It only knew how to stay.


The storyline became twisted,

Up inside her head,

“I wish I had let it free,”

The girl I grew up with said.


It didn’t rattle at the bars,

Like it used to when she was younger,

“Let it go free,”

I wish someone had told her.


So she became thin and pale,

With a story she’d never shared,

Because she didn’t think the world was ready,

Or that it even cared.


She tried to grasp daydreams,

But they just slipped away,

Because how can you believe in something,

When it is faded and grey?


All her dreams didn’t matter,

Because the best one was inside,

But she couldn’t let it out,

So she curled up and cried.


The world would never be ready,

For the story that she could tell,

“I flew to freedom,

But then I fell.”


And so maybe that is why,

In all her doubts and fears,

She finally found a way,

To let it out after so many years.


It flew to freedom,

From its cage inside her,

And after a little while,

It was put down on paper.


And the little girl I grew up with,

Is long gone today,

Because instead she grew into a woman,

Who released her story after finding a way.










You asked for a story,

Of tragedy and tears,

So let me tell a story,

That I have kept inside for years.


I once knew a girl very well,

And adored her simple life,

But her story is only known now,

In the scars made by a knife.


She was adored they said,

And there was no reason,

For what she did,

Other than she needed someone.


But hidden beneath her all-teeth smile,

Was a world she had tried,

To block out and ignored,

And tell herself it lied.


The girl’s story is not forgotten,

But inside the scars that are my arms,

And whispered in the head of,

Every who is self-harms.


She was a flower child,

But saw herself as only a sprout,

And all the beautiful flowers,

Laughed when it was asked about.


But they should have remembered,

Their own tiny start,

Before they laughed and mocked,

A broke a forget-me-not’s heart.


There was a boy who lived,

On my small and shaded street,

And every day I watched him,

Wondering when we would meet.


He walked by my house every day,

A sketchbook in his hand,

Always seeming casual,

And unplanned.





There is a girl who lives,

On the street I use to walk,

Sketching her inside a book,

Because I was too shy to talk.


When I heard we were moving,

I walked up to her red door,

And handed her the sketchbook saying,

“I can’t walk by your house anymore.”


The moving truck came,

And so did she,

Knocking on my plain brown door,

Handing me a stack of poetry.


While I sketched her blue eyes,

She wrote poetry about my brown,

That I have taped to my wall,

In this new town.


Her address was scribbled,

On the back of one,

Saying in cramped handwriting,

“I’ll miss you a ton.”



The boy who used to,

Live on my short street,

Wrote me a long letter,

“The girls here can’t compete.”


I replied to the address,

My handwriting slanting on the page,

While my heart beat fast,

Trying to escape my rib cage.


I know what love is,

And I smile at everyone I meet,

Because I am in love,

With the boy who used to live on my street.




The girl I drew pictures of,

Peeking through the window,

I love with all my heart,

I know.


She makes me laugh at words on paper,

And snort at pebbles in envelopes,

She speaks of flowers,

And old telescopes.


I’m almost old enough now,

To go back to that street,

Where the beautiful girl and I,

Had the chance to meet.




She was in love with him,

But she never said,

Because they were so perfect,

Pictured in her head.


He was in love with her,

And everyone else knew,

But never once did he have the courage,

To say “I love you.”

One of my friends laughed as she told me,

About a boy with messy hair,

Who was four and a half inches taller,

And texted her every day to say he did care.


He made her smile wider than the ocean,

And laugh better than a brook,

And one day their wonderful romance,

Will be written in a book.


But will it say all the details,

Like how his eye were always drawn to her,

And how when he was in the room,

Around thing around him was a blur?

Will it say how he was afraid,

Of what his report card said,

And how she was always dreaming,

With her imagination inside her head?


Because if I were to a write book,

About how perfect they were together,

I would tell all the little details,

Including how much he loved her.




There is this girl,

I wish you could have known,

Because she is beautiful,

Even when she believed she was alone.


You always remembered her,

If you saw her in a crowd,

And you always listened to her,

Even when she wasn’t that loud.


She so is colorful you ask how,

Someone could ever overlook her,

And how she can ever only see ugly,

Whenever she looks in the mirror.


She hates the size of her waist,

And cuts off every tag she gets,

She is always disliking some part of her,

And squeezing into old stuff thinking it fits.


But you probably can’t tell that,

Just by looking at her,

Because she doesn’t tell,

Who she sees in the mirror.


She did once,

A long time ago,

Who only laughed and took her brightness,

Leaving her with a glow.


But she’s gotten better,

At hiding all her insecurities,

Using a smile like band-ade,

She used to put on scraped knees.


So see her as bright,

This girl I wish you could have known,

Because all she is now,

Are some old pictures on my phone.









You said you were black,

And dull,

Like a piece of coal,

And no one would find you beautiful.


You called me vibrant

And eccentric,

But for most of my life,

I have felt ugly and imperfect.


Oh why do we do this,

To our wonderful beauty,

To downplay it and compare,

Calling ourselves ugly.


You are beautiful to me,

An untouched geode,

But you always wanted,

The colorful beauty you said I showed.


There are different kinds of beauty,

Gems and flowers,

So never try to change your beauty,

Just because it is not what someone prefers.



7:00 a.m.

There’s a boy who used to,

Ride my bus every 7:00 a.m.,

And I would do everything,

And anything to see him.




He has eyes as deep,

And as green as the lake,

But no one seems to know,

That his smiles are all fake.


He sits with his friends,

All messy blonde hair and smiles,

And he is the kind of boy who,

When he runs he doesn’t count the miles.


He didn’t take things for granted,

Like his “perfect” family,

But not once has he glanced back,

And seen me.


I sit three rows behind,

From his laughing friends and him,

And I look forward to,

Every 7:00 a.m.


He’s the third stop after mine,

And none of his friends are there,

He folds himself in,

Thinking that no one there will care.


But I will,

Because at 7:00 a.m.,

If he didn’t step on the bus,

Then I would miss him.


I would wonder all day,

Where he was and if he was ok,

Because he brightens my 7:00 a.m.,

Every single day.


But one day he wasn’t there,

And all his friends said excuses,

But if you ever get on bus 313,

The seat you are sitting could have been his.


Because the sad boy,

With green green eyes,

Wrote letters the night before,

Saying all his goodbyes.


There wasn’t a letter for me,

The girl who sits three rows back,

Who smells like mint and strawberry,

With a teal lunch pack.


He didn’t know I loved him,

And thought his beautiful,

And that without him,

My 7:00 a.m.’s are sad and dull.


All his friends sit sadly,

Staring at the place he used to sit,

“By god we miss him,”

They all admit.


The bus driver sighs,

Every third stop after mine,

Because he too misses the boy,

With a specialness he can’t define.


Our bus of fifteen people,

All miss him in some way,

Because he is no longer there to brighten,

Our 7:00 a.m.’s every day.


His seat is never sat in,

It is as empty as his eyes,

The last time I saw him,

Before he said his goodbyes.


I had promised myself silently,

That the next day I would tell him,

How much I loved seeing him

Every bright 7:00 a.m.


But he never came,

And I didn’t believe the news,

That someone has beautiful as him,

We had to lose.


A picture was in the school paper,

But it was just a picture and a name,

Because they didn’t know without him,

What a sad place our bus became.


He made everyone’s day better,

With just a grin and a look,

And if I could write poetry,

I would dedicate him a book.



He like the sun,

So brilliant and bright,

A beautiful thing,

After the long night.


But he is gone now,

The boy with beautiful green eyes,

And I only wish,

He had not believed his head’s lies.











“How to be an explorer”

The book my aunt gave me said,

But didn’t she know,

I’m already an explorer in my head.


It’s miles of untamed forests,

And mountains as tall as the moon,

Full of people I said I had forgotten,

And loved ones gone too soon.


Rivers that are deeper than the sea,

And animals scarier than nightmares,

I’m an explorer in my head,

Fighting the evil of “No one cares.”


Old friends live in moments,

And faces make me cry out loud,

Surrounded by so many people,

That form an endless crowd.


There are places I once lived,

And picket fences I use to play by,

But one thing this explorer knows,

Is that it is all a lie.


I’ve explored the sunny parts,

Of my dark and dreary head,

But in the darkness I can’t go,

Full of people and things better unsaid.


I’ve tried crossing the border,

Only to run back in fear,

Because only the scariest things,

Can make in the darkness here.


There are people I want back,

And words I never said,

All encased in the darkness,

Inhabiting most of my head.


It’s a jungle tangled and tall,

That is best left all alone,

With my dark thoughts and words,

Hidden and overgrown.


Maybe one day I will tell her,

My aunt who gave me the book,

That if she wanted a place to explore,

In my head she only needed to look.


But she will stop at the edge,

As they always do,

And my dark jungle will grow,

Until no light shines through.


I may be an explorer,

But they still can lose their way,

Just as I have started to lose myself,

In the dark of my head where there is only gray.





Quiet Ones

“Be afraid of the quiet ones,”

Was what I was taught,

But how can be afraid,

Of someone I’m not?


I was once called quiet,

In the busy and loud sixth grade,

But they just didn’t care enough to listen,

And to talk I was too afraid.


But when ninth grade came,

I refused to be silent,

Never taking time to be afraid,

Or wonder what people’s word meant.


I was done being quiet,

And done being something I’m not,

I’m not a quiet one,

So don’t believe all you’re taught.


I use to seal my lips,

And keep my eyes on the ground,

But now my lips can’t stop,

Making sound.


You should be afraid of the quiet ones,

And words they never say,

But you should also be afraid of the talkers,

Because they are going to be famous one day.


I am a little bit of both,

And you should fear either,

And let me go just to whisper,

“I use to know her.”



High Way

There’s a road that runs by my house,

That leads to a busy high way,

That I am going to travel,

And let it take me far away.


It will lead me through the mountains,

Evergreens and earth,

And when I get lost on trails,

I’ll finally figure out my worth.


It will take me around curves,

To the wide expanse of the coast,

And while I am gone I will learn,

Who truly loves the most.


Who will tape my postcards,

To the dashboard of their car,

Crying softly at night,

“I wish I could be where you are.”


When I take the high way,

To places pictures in my mind show,

People might start to wonder,

Why I had to go.

The reason is simple,

And every bit true:

I left on the high way,

To go find you.

All the pictures you showed me,

All the dreams you never got to see,

And the ones I  didn’t share,

But now I love them completely.

I wonder if I follow the clues,

Like a breadcrumb trail,

Will they lead me to you,

Or be as empty the postcards I send in the mail.



You got  lost in life,

And your eyes are empty,

But maybe one day you will come,

And follow the trail to me.


If I was asked what love was,

I would say us together,

Me getting lost so you could one day,

Find me and whisper “By golly I love her.”


Until then let them say,

I’m a traveler who’s forever lost,

But for you to find yourself,

I would do it at any cost.


The high way is taking me,

To the desert now,

And if you will follow the clues,

You can find me somehow.


You’ll find my love at the seashore,

And in the first snow,

But do you love me enough,

To follow me wherever I go?



Pretty Things

To all the pretty things I tried to say,

I’m sorry that I didn’t let you go free,

But closed my mouth at the last second,

Afraid of how people would judge me.




I’m sorry I didn’t let you come out,

In a flow of independence and rebellion,

Because for all my ranting about quiet people,

I’ve seemingly become one.


I let others views influence mine,

Until I put away all my own thoughts,

And was too scared to speak my mind,

Twisting my fingers into knots.


I sucked in all I thought I was,

And made myself paper thin,

But now I vow to all my pretty words,

I will never let it happen again.


I was broken and bruised,

Feeling thin enough to crumble at touch,

All because I clamped my mouth shut,

Over pretty words because I cared too much.


But when I let my words go free,

I hope I’ve started a rebellion and a war,

With all the quiet people with pretty words,

Not holding them in anymore.



She watched every sunrise,

And photographed every sunset,

Dreaming places she’d never been,

And people she’d never met.


One day while watching the sky change,

From dark to lightest tangerine,

She met a wonderful boy,

With the most crooked she’d ever seen.


His smile tilted up on the left side,

And his eyes were a deep gray,

He watched the colorful sunrises,

Hoping to be colorful too one day.


Then they met and he saw,

She carried all the vibrance,

He  fell in love with her colorful soul,

And she with his pretense.


He acted like a brilliant boy,

With colors twined in his heart,

But he was greedy for the color,

That made her look like art.


He was so tired of being colorless,

So he watched the sunrise every day,

And he wanted to have the sky’s color,

When the world had left him gray.


But no one told him,

That’s not something you can take,

And I hope he knows he changed her color,

When he made her heartbreak.


She still has mauve and saffron,

Tucked away in her eyes,

But there are darker colors now,

Underneath her bright disguise.


He didn’t take her color,

So desperate to be bright,

Because no one told him,

The sunrise is after the night.


The world once painted her gray,

And let dark color fester,

But he never saw this,

When he claimed he loved her.


She’s a brilliant brightness,

Before and after the night,

AndI hope he now understands,

Where she gets her light.









She shoved her thoughts in an attic,

Of dust and empty space,

Just because you told her,

She was looking out of place.


She took her crooked smile,

And folded it away with tears,

To pack away up in that attic,

To open when straight in a few years.


She took her baggy shirts,

And all her crazy clothes,

To put in a brown box,

Hidden where no one knows.


The words were so easy to say,

And you didn’t think twice,

That to her sensitive mind,

You were giving advice.


She changed her shoes,

And packed the other pairs away,

Because she didn’t have enough courage,

To wear them for a day.


Her thoughts even altered,

As a great darkness arose,

To crush the colorful creativity,

Telling her not to live the life she chose.


Your words changed her life,

Because she hadn’t yet learned,

That your sharp words were anything,

But helpfully concerned.


In a few years when she realizes,

What she never did before,

That you were just a bully,

And couldn’t control her thoughts or what she wore.


I know that somewhere inside this new her,

Is the girl she was before you,

And that she will change back,

To not caring what you do.


You may have influenced her once,

But you never will again,

Because she will always know,

That you are a master of pretend.







Brown Eyes

Yes she has blue eyes,

And darling you have brown,

But how do you expect people to like them,

When you’re always looking down?


My eyes are gray-blue,

And many times I have said,

That I only wish,

I could have brown eyes instead.


Mine might look like the ocean,

And I do cry salt a lot,

But your eyes are richer than the soil,

And will never be an afterthought.

We share the same eye color,

She and I,

But don’t see how common it is,

And how it can never electrify?


There are so many shades,

It’s true,

But some days when I’m down,

I still wish I had brown like you.


Don’t dislike your eye color,

And all the shades it can be,

Because having blue is not so special,

To a girl like me.


If I made friends based on eye color,

I would have missed on you,

And darling that would have killed me,

To not laugh at what you do.


Your eyes are brown,

And hers and mine are blue,

And darling

I love brown eyes on you.


They spark when you are mad,

And dull when you feel down,

So darling don’t ever think,

That they are simply brown.


And if you promise not to hate,

I’ll make a promise too,

That I will never hate my eyes,

Even though they are blue.


I think that they so common,

But isn’t that you said,

About your brown eyes when,

You were wishing for blue instead?