As such, I'm trying
trying to be. Trying to fill
trying to fold myself into something
something I have constructed
something that I will never fit inside
I designed it as such
I took a silliouette of something
interpreted outside of myself
like a cookie cutter frame
and I a blank plot of doe

I am independent of you 
beast by and by
I hear your critique
I hear everyone's critique
I've been told
that they are useless
the opinions and expectations
put on by others
only holograms
bars of smoke
I am learning to live my life
with my head turned towards something
a Mountain held
by the light of the closest star
My ear turned away from the iron mouth
I'll smile at them and move
forward with my steps
my legs at a constant
push towards the scene
in the woods that are dark
and ever gracious,
with unconditional acceptance

You lie slumbering
in a velvet room next door
I listen to you sleep
as your breaths hit the floor

I found some tape recordings
from an old TV broadcast
murmurs of a life
that were left in the trash

The histories or hers
all on a small blue dot
I couldn't hold a thing against you
you're just fraction of the spot

so spread your feelings out like sand
across my ocean
let your tears roll off my cheeks
I'll be your listener

I know you wanted to go
you missed your chance again
But I'm here like honey
We can still pretend

The We hit all the places
on the maps on the wall
throw darts into land mass
watch'em sore down the hall

Dream my lover,
are you a dream in my eye?
dream while you're awake
and dream until you die

This is an absurd piece. Its different than my usually style because there is not really central idea. I just sat down and tried to listen to the chaos of the mind.  

Styrofoam cups and

babies rounding mountains

climb cricket hill top 

to pluck the blossoms off

a blunt in your air 

bare, a billowy rowan tree

the winter white days cloud your eyes

and burrow deep in the brown fur

that rises and falls with sleep

prints show up all over your hands

follow them down to your navel

and tuck it in like a laugh

that hits you like red sirens 

Pish Posh

I am sitting in my favorite place to write: Big Mikes Coffee.

As a approach graduation I am filled with excitement and relief, but a slight discomfort. What will I do with myself once I leave this familiar little bubble of academia? I've known nothing else since 5 years old. Where do I apply the knowledge I have gleaned from this earnest, altruistic institution**ahem shark tank. What do I take? That I was bread to be a fine sheep, to be used for my wool too keep the elite warm and cozy in their mansions under the sea, maybe? I think the most important thing I've learned from college is that it is, in itself,  a life seeding corporation and that capitalism is death.

--------<3{:}3>-------

Love, transforms, takes different faces, but it is always an extension of your pinky finger.

Old shoe mind
you're falling apart
you don't support the body
that lives inside you

If you represent yourself
Then you're infrastructure needs reframing
You're making the heart beat hard
The synapses bear mice
the stress hormones that chew at the pipes
breaking down the concubines
the lawman, and the shrines alike

Mind it is time to form a mouth
and learn when to open
and when to keep closed
and when to eat.

It has been quite sometime since I have written anything. I have been working with the Artist Way by Julia Cameron, a book devoted to helping people cultivate the artist within. The book emphasizes the idea of silencing your inner critic and letting your ideas just flow out of you without judgement. I have realized that that has been a struggle for me for a long time. I do not consider myself a winded person. Aaron whom I'd love to call my boyfriend, but can't seem to bring myself to do it yet is full of words and conversation. He is just bubbling over with information.

What could I say to you that is valuable? I don't know, maybe I can only tell you in a poem or a song. I'll just stake my value there until I can convince myself that I can communicate ideas in a coherent, intellectual fashion.

Casting through the trees,
a black colt
the brush is cutting light
over the rocky folds

It stamps the earths green
It's an ebony gleam
as dark as the mare
from whence it came

we were both treading water
walking in dark brooks
aloof and unafraid
Whilst the beast stole our pain