Human

You are flesh and you are allowed to hurt
To feel
Tender, and raw, and weak
And to seek comfort in warmth

You are water like the earth you live on
You will feel waves and ripples
You will always be flowing but sometimes
There will be rough seas

You are bones and you are able to be strong
Heal yourself at amazing speeds
Grow and feel the growing pains

You are muscle and you
Grow stronger from the stress
Flexing, pulsing in every moment
A heart that never quits

You are human, every bit of you
Every bit that
hurts and flows and heals and grows
You are allowed and
You are able

You are loved in your brokenness
We are all broken sometimes
It is proof that we feel

You and I

The slender arched back of a park bench and a beautiful blue sky

If she could, she would sit next to him forever, and watch the world go by

Everywhere else life rushes head on, but together they stop time

Create their own infinities, forevers, languages and rhymes

He’s her anchor in the storm, steady, constant, stable

He’s her partner in dance and crime, who is also able

To make her cheeks go pink

And make her heart beat double beats

(And she’d sit on that bench for an eternity

Because it has all the magic she ever needs to see)

stomach cramps

I

Missing you like the ocean misses the sand rushing back in crashing waves, missing you

Like no one misses clichés

Missing you, the empty space between my fingers

II

Another year’s last breaths and I still feel uncomfortable during news anchor banter and when I’m asked to make a telephone call and I still haven’t built up a résumé or a time capsule or saved the world.

III

Another year’s last breaths and I became and am still becoming, and pride’s a funny thing because too much and too little are devastating, kind of like water, and I’m just trying to find the balance beam in between.

IV

They tell you you’re not good enough so they can sell you something and you tell yourself the same because you've started to believe it but you are good enough, they should put that in fortune cookies on ice-cream lids and between side walk cracks and everywhere else you’ll see it

VI

It isn’t the worst case scenario

VII

(This isn’t a poem) about missing you but I do. (This isn’t a poem)

when you are feeling caught up in the tide

Swim Strong
Kick hard
Look Inside
You have had your own guardians all your life

Swim strong
Kick hard
(24 ribs shaped to protect your heart)
You are more beautiful than the sum of every broken part

Swim strong
Kick hard
There’s so much left to do
Squeeze someone’s hand three times
(I, love, you)

there's reasons to breathe

The akward juxtaposition, humanity
Fulfillment a paradox
For every sidewalk, a skinned knee

But sometimes sore stomachs remind us
there is laughter, more contagious
then any disease

hold your own hand and
hold open the sails
here comes a breeze

{{ }}

i'm thankful for my anchor
but i hope our winds do change
so out of these choppy waters
we both can sail away

unimpressed we press on

connected to a screen i feel stuck

i don't know how to be awestruck

my generation is overstimulated, unimpressed,
and left craving human touch

we view what were "the good old days" as living life rough

drugs, dangers, pressing the limits have all come
because feeling is tough


patience is no longer veiwed as a virtue
but as a weakness
we demand
bigger
         better
                 faster
                         stronger

and have forgotten what peace is