gutted like the fish i don't eat

thoughts run rampant, self-deprecating ideologies stampeding for attention
it's giving me a headache
i don't know who "they" are but they told me to fake it 'til i make it
i do not believe that is something i can do

it's easier for me to spill my soul to strangers than to loved ones
contradictorily, i'm only myself when there's trust
all my friends have left to explore new and exciting chapters
i've been hallowed out
gutted

i've called utah home for so long now
but it's not home without the people that make it so
all my bravado, my so-called strength
has shattered without them
and i feel misplaced
lost like the keys i put on my nightstand
really, they'd been in my purse the whole time
but let's check the countertops, that's where i put them, right?

i don't want to fill this hole with meaningless things
what a migraine

maybe i'm just not happy

I don't want to live a life where my greatest fear is being left alone with my thoughts.

gliese 581

The universe is too vast to connect all the dots but our ancestors tried anyways.

I'm a Libra, if you were curious about my horoscope [because I'm not]. I hate and love it when they try to tell me who I am. How could the stars know? I don't even know. I've never known. That constellation, dimmed this time of year by the sun, isn't close enough together in all actuality to mean anything to me. Lightyears: how far light travels in a year. Do you know how far light travels in a second? Even that's too much.

The sky often baffles me. But that's okay, because people baffle me too. How is it that I have friends even more amazing than the sky? Why am I so fortunate? If I had the means to feed the starving, would I do it? I don't know. There's always that just in case. Always a what if. Even with all these compliments comparing me to whatever flower, a plant is insignificant in the scheme of things. But my friends have entire galaxies hidden away under their fingernails.

Beam me up. Embrace the sun and pretend like it doesn't hurt you. I'm 20 now. Are there even any stars close enough to witness my birth? 20 lightyears, how bout it? Google's gonna help me out with this one: Gliese 581. Gliese saw everything. And guess what? It's in constellation Libra; that's my sign. Gliese, I'm looking up at you. Sorry I didn't realize you were there 'til now. You've been there from the beginning, huh? You're seeing it all. You're watching me tell my first lie and seeing me fall down for the first time. I got back up, right? I must've, to be stumbling around these days. There's more in store for you, Gliese. I hope you aren't disappointed with what you see. Gliese, you're not my replacement for God. But still. Thank you for being here.

I guess it's refreshing to know that the universe is so vast but I'm connecting the dots anyways. Not all come back to me, but that's not the point. The point is that the important people are stardust, and everyone has got someone who thinks they're the whole damned universe.

i'm not even a fighter

your eyes are weapons of mass destruction

i see explosions in your pupils or maybe that's just my heartbeat

head's light like bullets

skin set on radioactive at the touch of my fingertips to your palm

vision glazed over with the image of hydrogen bombs erupting at the bottom of the ocean

you're a dangerous one 

a thief

a sly little knife, quiet like ice 'til the avalanche rolls down the mountainside

kamikaze, or maybe not

the red blood cells taking host in my veins are unstable

all because of a pair of green eyes

oxygen, i need oxygen

i need your voice

the roll of peace treaties off your tongue

cease fire

or at least give me some sort of sign that this war isn't completely one-sided

do these brown eyes look like modern warfare?

brown, like the haze of smoke over the sun?

wild fires in domestic places?

blanketed ash?

i'll fight with my bare hands if i have to

just fight back like you feel threatened the same way i do

hell in your head

give me an inch, and i'll take the whole damn universe
i'm not lucky and i'm not kind, and i'm pretty sure hell isn't a place you go to
'cause it's inside you
and you can hide it all you like, but the burning in your veins is a heavyset reminder
i was a little girl when my neighbor swore to God that she didn't know
my mom told me not to swear to God
right then i swore to never swear but damn it all - that's the problem

there's so many things plaguing my mind and if time travel were real
well,
that's just it, isn't it?
i wouldn't do anything to rid hell from my veins
give me an inch, and i'd decline
you'd insist

and that's when i'd come in to rob you of the whole damn universe one inch at a time

another letter to my insecurities

Insecurities,

You need soul. Enough for the devil to hate you.

You've been so reflective since you've discovered that Sean Daley dropped a new album. You put it on repeat. Atmosphere's done it again, this time he's provided you with a version where the explicits won't taint you. And I know I'm supposed to be talking to myself here, but if you've never listened to Atmosphere - you should.

Get out of bed and do something.

You've locked yourself away in solitary confinement, and you say it's hard to do your hair and go out. Yes, your bed's been getting real comfortable with the contours of your body. But it's the opposite for your soul. You need soul. You need the devil to hate you.

Afraid of responsibilities? Who isn't? Do you hear yourself? It's like you're thirteen-years-old again: slightly annoying and lazy as hell.

You want to cry, but you can't. You don't know why, but it remains. I know why. You're hoping the tears will baptize you. That's a fact.

Pick yourself up and put on some pants today. That's the least you could do.

You need soul. You ain't gonna find it on your computer screen. Soul is out there, and you should be too. Get out there and I promise that one day you will cry. Maybe the tears will baptize you - hell if I know. Just don't stumble into the abyss again, okay?

Sincerely,

55/3652

I felt so much when I was 15 and I feel so much now and I'll never stop feeling probably and my bones will even feel relief when the aching stops.

My bones will even feel the need to take up the mantle in my resting place.

My bones will even feel hallow and cold, but they will feel so much.

I've got about 55 days left of being a teenager, and the number 20 is beginning to scare me so much that it hurts.

The years seem to go by more quickly and that frightens me.

The days seem to grow longer and that frightens me.

55 days until I'm no longer a teenager, and I've still never fallen in love. Yes, the number 20 terrifies me. Why couldn't I have fallen in love? My bones are still here, but my veins feel dry and my heart is a desert.

And so far the only person I know who loves the desert is me.

i love pouring out my heart to strangers

myself and i

self vanity and the way i see my eyes in your eyes
self destruction and the way i purposefully step on mines
self loathing and the way i wish i was everyone else but me
self discovery and the way i was here all along
self righteousness and the way i won't admit to being wrong
self esteem and the way i've learned to stand up for my own goodwill

the mark is reality and i'm totally missing it

I rather like being undone, which is why I can't seem to pull myself together. Maybe I'll stumble upon that part of me in the future; for now I'll revel in the nostalgia.

Pinch me, I'm dreaming.

But don't pinch me 'cause I don't want to wake up to the responsibilities and my gpa and the economy.

I'm sitting here laughing because the future's so bright and we've all got shades on.

lingering just behind my eyelids

I don't think men should hate time but I'm saying that in a youthful state while I got this little thing called invincibility pulsing through my veins. I hate time regardless of what I think and I'm saying that because invincibility is as much a construct of my mind as time is. It's a race against the clock, so far I'm winning but I've started tripping over my own limbs.

I swear Christmas was a week ago.

I was born yesterday, graduated an hour ago, lived in California just a second ago, I swear.

I opened my eyes for the first time this very instant.

Time isn't slipping away, just me.

phobias

There's a cute guy in my ward (like really cute), and I want to ask him out except I'm scared. And I think that pretty much sums up who I am because I'll probably never ask him out.

i'm pretty fluent in song lyrics

"What's music without any words?" So much, my friend.

You see, my favorite part about a hymn is the part where it says thoughtfully, joyously, worshipfully. If you could never sing again after the next song you sang, how would it sound? Halfhearted? Please, we'd sing as loud and off-tune as we could - to the point of bloody vocal chords, literally putting our hearts into it.

I'm struggling to put this all into words, but what I want to tell you is that music has been there. Always in the background, always blasting from the radio speakers, always humming from my own lips.

These words don't seem that eloquent to my eyes: this truth is so simple but man is it beautiful.

the pharaoh club

I've read up on mythology but the only thing I'm interested in is making my own stories. Here's the heart clincher: I've seen myself in the stars but those were the falling ones. And here I am, back on earth, back in school, fighting amongst the wolves, and I'm still not the goddess of piety because I disrespect any god that's not mine.

We're not part of the Pharaoh club. Oh, we tried to join. Not a lot of room for comic book enthusiasts. Not a lot of room for anyone, really. Just the Pharaohs. They've got the divine right and the time to build pyramids, what do you have?

Do you have summer playlists? Do you have spirit? Or has the world yanked you by the hair into it's salivating orifice? That's a one-way ticket, my love. Make sure you're ready to give up Saturday cartoons and Dr. Seuss before you take that route. Check the weather, will you? But we never leave the apartment, isn't that a curious notion?

I met some boys in the Pharaoh club. "Hello, peasants," they said.

And that's what we are. Peasant people with regal hearts and that's okay.

your veins have words to say

Hey you,

Face the facts, you're completely unsure of yourself. Your skull is numb and it's spreading to the rest of you like an infectious disease. It'll be a sad day when you're feeling everything in the world but not actually feeling it. But enough of the deep stuff. Tell me about yourself. Do you listen to music when you drive? Do you like the sound of your own voice? Do you trust that your heart will keep beating until it doesn't anymore?

How can you be so sure that the world is spinning? You think I'm here lurking in your closet like those monsters you were once so afraid of. Those weren't real so I guess I'm not either, right? I'm waiting for you to notice the veins on your arms. Maybe then you'll realize that I'm never around, I'm never lurking.

I'm hugging the contours of your body from the inside, I'm in your bloodstream and the view's great. You're so sure that one day I'll emerge from the darkness to rip your heart from your chest, but I'm not keen on suicide.

Your skull is numb, but I'm hopeless without you.

Can't you see that? I couldn't stand a day without you. And when I go, I'm taking you with me. Is that harsh? Is that only acceptable when you're fabulously aged and the words on your bucket list are all crossed out? I don't care. If you're young and still a bit naive, I'm bringing you with me wherever it is we're going. I'm hopeless without you.

Love will find you one day. But for now don't forget me in your chest - always asking questions.

Always,

about death

i'm always falling short of what i'm capable of
the door slams
the wind howls
and i'm stuck inside cowering

the corner of despair where a boy smiles kindly at me
i always lower my eyes
to the denim on my knees
to my restless palms
to my heart, politely asking its opinion - should i

too late now
everything is overdue
my assignments
my chance to say something
the opportunity i had to give 'em the ol' razzle-dazzle

why are you so afraid

i skipped the tutorial
and now i expect people to stop what they're doing and explain
i'm so lost, clicking buttons just to see what they do
there's not enough time to live life the way i do
the grave has been calling for us from the second we were born

dirt and a tombstone
i don't want my eulogy to be a lie

online courses remind me of creative writing, but nelson's class was more fun

hi, i'm in college and i think i'm getting insomnia

i have a paper due tomorrow and i've only written one-fifth of it

good thing i can't sleep, right?

i don't know what's got me so unsettled

but i'm tipping over, and it looks like it's going to be a long way down

i don't even feel like i'm unfocused

i know exactly what i'm doing

it's time that's out of place

not me

...i think i just figured out why i can't sleep

i changed my major to art education

i got a calling in church as a sunday school teacher

i taught my first lesson

and i loved it

i think i found my calling in life

guys, i'm going to be an art teacher one day

but i'm scared

and it keeps me up at night

i'm in college, but i'm yearning for those elementary school days

apathy

in the exhausted state of mind where the doubts kick in, i can quietly feel…something…slipping deftly through the cracks
moments like this are aroused from apathy
apathy is a distant relative, apathy bursts through the doors unannounced

you see, i have this nagging fear of apathy
to feel…nothing

i think i would rather face death and lose