IF

if i had a dollar for every mistake
i'd be making more than minimum wage
but time
            not mistakes
                               is money
when your back's against the cage

and if the crowd would fade
                                         and the lights would dim
maybe i could see who was in my corner
but with the shifting alliances of
                                              day
                                                    to
                                                       day
                                                              life
you've got to keep a clear head and shining armor

who are you

sixteen point four two years and i still don't know

know i am five feet seven inches of layers of experience 

and skin

skin and it's regenerated approximately two hundred and twenty two times

times which are fraction of how often i've changed my mind

mind and it's learning what to save and what to spend

spend and when to break and when to bend

bend when i am daughter, sister, writer, friend

high five

when you are feeling sad:

1. Drink a glass of water

we treat sunburns with aloe vera, and have bandaids for raw skin.

 refresh yourself when you hurt within. 

2.  Do some jumping jacks

show your heart it can pump with unique finesse

don't let it remember it brokeness.

3. Listen to a happy mix

indie pop ballads and quick beats 

are there to remind you of your feet

4. List things you are looking foward to

even if today wasn't worth the pain

tommorow there are so many things to gain

5. Smile

your cheeks will resist the effort as folly but your mind will remember the feelings so jolly

-

this poem has been temporarily removed

we

we are a mixture of poetry and chemistry

one part nuclear attraction 

two parts sunshine and belly laughs 

i think of you sixteen times before breakfast

we are a balance beam 

and i'll only fall 

for you

adolescence and the green light fades

I

America the beautiful the promised land.

There’s no end to the sky there’s no burn to the sand

Six years old-- grasps a water-gun in gritty hands

II

Green lights fade, Gatsby’s dead and there’s red stop signs

Red like the debt and the lines in our eyes

Cynical-- seeing guns behind every headline

III

Frost thought we were escaping by turning to the sea

Beds neglected and we’re turning to the drug of caffeine

Neglected and forgotten

--The American Dream--

Palms

You can not go on with clenched fists

The only thing you will gain is 

Nail marks in your palms 

And sore muscles

You must learn to let go 

And learn that there are others whose hands can fill the empty spots in you own

You must push on but 

It need not be alone 

The clenched fists await the bruises 

And wait for the fight to start

Open hands are quick to welcome, 

The beginning of an open heart