I wish I was this kitty right now.

(my kitty, my picture)

Did everyone that followed me disappear or unfollow me or is anyone still here?

I’m around, life’s been sucky and now I’m disenrolled from school, and I’m trying to figure out how to manage a house hold and farm and my horses and debts with $350 a month. I haven’t seen my friends for over a month, and only one of them texted to find out where I went. Sometimes I wonder if anyone would ask about me if I just never hung out with them again.

Invisibility is lonelier than anyone could guess

And if you say anything about it,

You’re asking for attention and pity

We stand alone-never acknowledging that chivalry isn’t dead.

societal-cages asked: Are you okay? I saw your latest poem.. wondering if this actually happened or a muse.

Yeah, I’m okay, it did happen, it was just accidental, a bad mix up of meds. Thank you so much for asking :) I thought maybe everybody stopped reading my stuff since I haven’t written for over a month.

Too many slivers swallowed dry

The night sky throbs beneath my feet

Flashing strobes pound away

And I wonder how long I have to stay

The water burns

But I can’t quite breath

Heart in my mouth as I get up to leave

Mommy, I mumble, on my way out the door

I shudder goodbye as I fall to the floor.

Every time someone turns to stare, and that moment is frozen in a mutual gaze, I wonder who they see, looking back from them to me.

Some moments are hard to pin point.

Maybe you can’t quite time the second you fell in love

Life is more gradual

In certain moments

My moment

That spans and ebbs

A sea of waves, growing and shrinking

Is when I stopped missing you

And began missing things you never were

You wouldn’t have given me flowers like that couple in school

I can’t imagine you singing for me

I know you wouldn’t call me in the middle of your day

And how can I believe you would have saved me when I couldn’t feel any pain?

Someday, in a different time

I stopped missing you

And started missing someone new

That I’ll never remember since I only met you

When people press up against me

It’s like I’m in a sealed glass tube

Filling with icy water

Balancing on a tiny platform

The ground five stories below

Can’t break free

Without breaking anyway

Summer leaves like it was never here at all

A forgotten youth left alone at the boardwalk

Skinny legs shake beneath cropped shorts

While a torso is masked by her bulky bomber jacket

Smoke curls beneath each tousled curl

And you hardly see her crying

No make up on to smear

No one around to hear her lying

Every step is another question not asked

We search the roads but traces have gone

Winter buries our teenage corpses

Each funeral lit by our nicotine candles

City lights met me in a spin of colors, and my body ceased to care about the simple belief that it’s better to walk in a straight line then otherwise. Everything was faster, and for once in my life, I wasn’t bored. The world could keep up with me, or my mind was slowed down enough to deal with the world. All I wanted to do, was talk. Talk about everything on my mind, my filter was gone and I vomited book after book of secrets and thoughts and anything that even romotely crossed into my head. Humans fascinated me, and respect for their space didn’t monitor my actions. I hugged anyone, and wanted to be close and held, it made me feel safe, and if I wanted it, then I had no idea why I shouldn’t do it. Pleasure, that was all that guided me. If I would be happy, then I should do it. I should eat that ice cream, even though it’s the last of my money. I should kiss this boy, even though my friends dissaprove. That’s the root of why I drink. Everyone tells me life is short, and I should live it up. But they don’t like it when I do. It’s not my fault that I think more than them. That it takes more to occupy my head then a boy or a song. They think of one thing while I’m thinking of three years ago, singing a song, writing a book, carrying on with their talk, worrying about my family, all the while spinning my phone fast and talking to my other friends about my issues. I function differently. I wish I didn’t. I just need lots of distractoins. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s just who I am. Someday someone will except that.

Forgetful, I waited, air stuttering through chapped lips, crusted blood flaking against raw pink flesh. Through a murky daze I watched the train propel ever closer, hurtling against the wind. Fluctuating machinery flooded my ears as I scanned each passing rail car, city tags glaringly neon against the drab parkway landscape. Boxes, metal, beams, sacks, all kinds of goods ran past, but even as the tail appeared in the horizon, I didn’t doubt myself. My legs cramped so I stood and glanced around, seeing two dark silhouettes intertwined above me, high on the hill, one familiar, one alien. Unthinkingly, my arm secured the pack I carried, and my other hand dropped the colorful glossed box, the faint crackle of ripped wrapping barely audible. Feet ran under me, keeping beat to the pounds of flying metal beside me, until a curved handle jutted out against an open door. I grasped it, swung my legs up in the motion, and curled my body to drop inside the car, cold steel slamming my body, tears running while my lungs fought to regain the oxygen that had burst from them when I flattened into the floor.

“What’s that?” The woman asked, bending to lift a torn gift. She handed it to the man, curiosity apparent in both eyes. He calmly removed the lingering paper and opened the tiny box. Inside was a smattering of trinkets. A knotted wish bracelet, a swirl of green, black, yellow and red threads. A mountain dew bottle cap, and a cut necklace, a metal silver feather dangling from the cord. He glanced around, searching the tracks, looking, but all that moved was the last car of the train, lonely and empty. Dropping the box, he told her,

“Just useless junk.” And with that he grasped her hand and they wandered back into the city, strangers to it now. Two lovers striding into the dusk of the cityscape, hand in hand.