in wonderland

With this red thread she can’t hold on anymore
there’s this wall between them
a wall of pain that they’ll either get over
or break heartstrings trying.

you can’t reach me anymore
is what she says when she falls into
through a small hole 
the size of her fist
and strategically placed
in her back yard.

He searches because he’s sorry
that she’ll never be able to sleep again
without the sound of his voice
whispering sweet “I love you’s”
and begging her to calm down.

She falls because she doesn’t know
the way back up
or that going back up is even and option.

She knows she’s not Alice,
but the promise of never hurting again
seemed far too good to pass up.

He’s not the white rabbit
but he’s late for a very important date
and he knows he’s too late to reach her.

All he remembers are her last words
the only thing that can carry him home.


Floating in mid-air, round, simple, clear
we’re caught in a bubble, a small little circle
of love, life, and all the simple things
you’re my world and you don’t know it.

It’s so easy to fall in love with you
you’re patient, sweet, full of :heart:
and I miss you when we go into those
two separate ways, headlights facing apart.

I can’t begin to describe how hard it is
to stretch a bubble without breaking 
the heart.

identity poem

 i think in lyrics
    they fall from my lips like rain.
    i think in waves of light, color, love.
    i am what, who, where i am.
    i am a rainbow, spectrum of light.
    i bend, the lighter side of him.
    perhaps, but the darker your shadow
    the closer you get to the light.
    i am vibrant
    making my own light because i am farther.
    i wish i were darker so i could be close
    to the warmth.
    alas, i am but vibrancy.

& all my poetry is about you.

The Night the Stars Fell

TW: sexual assault, child abuse

We’re moving and it’s dark and warm
I feel safe, but only until we stop
the fear sets in and I
scream because of the tape
and I can’t

The trunk opens 
and light pours into my
safe darkness
and I’m not safe
or alone…

I squint, blinded by the bright lights
and I can’t see his face, but I know
it’s a question they’ll ask later
at the hospital.

They’ll also ask what he did to me
where he touched me
if he hurt me
at least…
that’s what happens on TV.

On TV they always catch the bad guy.

His hands are on me and
I’m scared, I don’t want him to touch me
but everything is going so fast
his arms hold me as I struggle
and he tells me “it’ll be quick”
because he only “likes ‘em live the first time”
I feel sick.

He takes me in a house
it’s dirty and dust is everywhere
it smells like old books and rotting wood
there’s one mattress
and I know that’s where 


Still fast.  He throws me down, tells me
“struggle all you want, I’m stronger than you”
and I know it’s true because he’s on top of me
a bundle of free, flailing limbs and he pins me.

His teeth are yellow and his
breath smells like coffee and alcohol
he tells me “I like ’em young”
I don’t respond, still flailing.

He’s wearing glasses and his cheeks are red
and his eyes are black as coal, his nose has a wart
and he got Star too, but she didn’t make it because…
he likes younger girls better.

Star is a year older and
when he asked us our ages he seemed like
such a nice man.

He gave us balloons and told us we were
p  pp  p
r  rr  r
e  ee  e
t  tt  t
t  tt  t
y  yy  y
and every little girl wants to be pretty
just. like. mommy.

He made me watch when he touched her
up her skirt, over her legs
he told me not to look away
because it made him hot to know I was watching
I couldn’t stop crying when she screamed
he was hurting her by…

His lips are all over my body and it burns
the hatred in me and I…I can’t stop screaming
he’s touching me and using fingers and whispering
“You’re my good girl, you’re my good girl”
I’m sick.  I’m sick.

He wont stop touching me 
and he tells me “this’ll hurt a little”
and he tells me “I like it when you scream”
and he tells me “you’re so pretty”
and he tells me “a perfect little angel”
and he tells me “so innocent”
and I’m not anymore
I’m not and I…
not and….
I can’t stop screaming
because it hurts
and I’m not old enough

He tells me “I only like ’em live the first time”.


Listen.  Listen.  Listen.
You never LISTEN
and I tell you things
I just want you to

Catch me when I fall from grace?
you’re never there to see my entrance
the dance of shadows on my chest
the rocks bleed me dry.

You’d kiss me if I weren’t
You called me your little
“Bellatrix” and I 
I didn’t know
but I understand.

You’d love me if I wasn’t 
so far
that you don’t know who 
I am.

listen.  Listen.  LISTEN.  LISTEN.  LISTEN
you.  never.  hear.  me.  
nevergetit.  never get it.

I. can’t.  anymore.

my 11 secrets

There are.  
Eleven things.  
I want to write.  
To 11 people.
You think you know me?


You make me feel like crap.  You make me feel so horrible about where I am in life, I don’t even know how to love you anymore.  You tell me that without me the “house stays clean” and you call me “lazy” and you tell me that I’ll “never be anything”.  

She–your daughter–tells me that you just say that because you believe in me and you want you challenge me to be the best that I can be.  Is she serious?  I don’t think she is because all you ever say to me is negative.  

I don’t think you know how you make me feel when you say things like that.  Not to mention you’re always hostile and living with you makes me feel sick.  You make me feel disgusted with humanity.  I can’t even trust anyone else!  I can’t!  You’ve made everything in my life horrible and I can’t even…

hate you.


You’re my world and I love what you’ve done to me.  Though, you tell me I’m a doormat, and maybe I am, but please…can’t you just trust and support me?  I love you so much I can’t even stand it.  I don’t regret anything I’ve done with you and if we don’t last, I doubt I ever will.  I don’t even think I can move on if you decided you didn’t want me anymore.

I’m in awe of you.  Don’t you know that, I’m in awe of you!  You make me feel more than anyone ever could.  

Sometimes, when you ask me if all I want you for is what you can do for me, it hurts.  I love you.  I’d be just as happy just being with you and never being allowed to ask you for something again as I am right now.  You’re so perfect for me, if I ever lost you I don’t think I’d be able to go on.


There’s a lot of things we used to be and the fact that we aren’t anymore bugs me.  It’s hard to talk to you because I’m not social and neither are you.  You get depressed easily and it’s really hard for me to carry on a conversation.  Especially since I can only talk about things you’re interested in.  So, I’m really sorry, but that’s why we never talk.


You don’t do anything and think you can treat us all like crap.  You use my friends and my boyfriend.  You’re so stupid you’ve tried to kill yourself repeatedly over the same dumb girl.  When are you going to get it?

I wish you’d stop hugging me.  I don’t even want to touch you anymore because I don’t like you.  I really don’t like you.  At all.  Neither do my friends.  They wish you’d stop asking them for money and rides.

But we’re all afraid of you.


For the longest time I thought you didn’t like me.  But you’re one of the coolest–if I can say this–moms I know.  I’d love for you to be my mom, but I get the impression that you might have a bit of a temper.  Probably not as bad as my mother’s (who none of us can even stand to be around, no matter how much we love her), but I’m too meek to be yelled at anymore.  However, I love you nonetheless.  You tell the best stories and I wish I got to see you more.


You.  Make.  Me.  Sick.  And you need to back off.  You need to just back the heck off.  Find your own.


Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?  Close your mouth and look away before I get up and leave.  You’re being rude by looking at me all the time.  I don’t know why you’re even staring over here.  Seriously?  Just stop and go about your business.  I hope you leave soon, or I swear I’m going to call campus security on you.


I don’t like you.  I’ve never liked you.  I use you for gossip because you’re the only person that talks to me about the things I want to hear.  Then you talk about me behind my back.

You told everyone I was bi.  You told everyone who I liked.

And it all backfired because I still get more than you.

So thanks.


You’re a mess.  I wish you’d stop turning to drugs to get rid of it.  I knew this is what would happen.  So why don’t you just suck it up and live like the rest of us?  

Because.  You’re.  Weak.


You’re so fake.  I wish everyone could see you the way I see you.


We don’t have any of the same interests anymore.  I wish you’d acknowledge that and let me go.

these are my 11
secrets about eleven secret

I want to say good-bye.