Doney’s witty humor and gleaming smile never failed to distract me.

His charisma overlapped the overwhelming grief that the tormented soul called my heart burdened.

He was like an oddity in a crowd ;he stood out like no other.

He took the pain from me like a bootle of rum and buried it deep down for me until the facade faded yet again.

I couldn’t help but let a cheeky grin slip out onto my face when he softly told me “I’ll run into any sunset with you”.

We both knew he couldn’t run along side me into a certain light I called,“fate”.

It didn’t matter how many times he reassured me;he could never run along my path,I wouldn’t let him.

No matter how much you love someone your selfish yearning for them can’t burden their being.

That unconditional love that I had for Doney is what lead me to free him.

Passing with someone you love ,who doesn’t have much time left ether,sounds unpleasantly reassuring when y’all both have nothing but breathing tubes and a few predict months on your hands.

Doney has a chance at life though, only 40%,but it’s enough (not just for me but the people who considered him family).

I let go of not only Doney but holding my breath and our senseless love.

While he was sentenced to another “check-up” I finally put my tormented soul to rest.

I buried not only my pain,but my life that day.

 The indelible memories of Doney’s witty humor and gleaming smile helped put me to rest.

He never managed to fail me.

Speaker hates Cecelia

Cecelia: latin name meaning Blind

she’s a milky skinned girl with sharp bones

and a spine you can run fingers down to create

hollow music. but she hides those stalagmites, uses a

tattoo. black ink, chinese words. speaker has

no idea what it means. it’s ugly.

she has concave cheeks and eyes and a cavern between

the bones of her neck. crater-faced, dusty grey

with a dark side. speaker feels cold when she

passes by. wonders if she would shatter

if dropped.

her hair hangs like a ferret over her shoulder and

the rest falls down her back in frayed white ropes

with knots and tangles and it smells. dreadlocked.

dead ends. on top, unruly baby hairs. speaker wants to

pluck them out one by one.

speaker wants to count the bones on her spine. would

hit each with a fist until it pops back under the skin.

until the skin is smooth. a heavenly body, faultless in complexion.

speaker dreams of taking a black marker and filling in

the rest of her back. filling in her cheeks and eyes and neck.

uniform, neat, clean. speaker speaks chinese now. would

brand 听 on each thin finger with a needle. careful to

avoid the chalky bones.  

speaker sees the bodies that turn to her as to a warm fire

in a cold winter that would engulf her fingers in silky onyx.

speaker hears her bones plead like the crackle of a

burning log when she walks. barefoot. delicate. i’m here, crack.

look at me. snap.

You were Winter trying to convince me that you were Spring,

The biting warmth that embraced me when you were around

Was the bite frost so cold it burned

It was the lie of love,

The lie of warmth,

The lie of safety,

You knew I hated winter,

The cold hit too close to my heart,

To my pulse

Threatening to slow and freeze the blood that already was weak with fighting to flow

Snow and Winter are disciples of deceit

Faces of purity and beauty distract

As the warmth, the fluidity of life gets trapped.

I knew too much of being trapped,

Of having the energy that fills me drain

Slowly down-- a faulty tap

The shackles of nothing binding me to the ground,

Convincing me I was safer on ground,

Snow seduces a sense of calm

The anger that roils within the chest of a broken lover calms,

Unfeeling becomes the anger that has made its place, nestled amongst the gapes of heartbreak

Winter coaxes minds into numb submission,

Yet the only thing worse than being broken from love,

Is being broken and feeling nothing,

The calm of winter is fake, freezing over anger and flaws doesn't erase them

But maybe if I stand outside long enough the cold will crawl its way towards what remains of my heart

And take its life and energy away, maybe then I won’t care,

Maybe then the pain of rejection of being left won’t sting

No matter, Spring will come and thaw the hurt heart, and anger will rush back in

But it’s still winter,

And White Pure Paint settles on the planes of this world hushing it

Softening it,

This world is not soft, and

Fake facades mean nothing.

And seasons don’t really matter, because Summer is the season you left me.

Slithering about,

looking for its prey,

The venom dripping from its teeth,

Just like the words from society,

Their words harsh as their venom,

Their prey cowers beneath them,

Manipulating them,,

Leading them blindly toward a trap,

Hurting the prey and killing it,

Snakes are dangerous yes,

But so are people.

Adrift

“I’d have nightmares of other islands stretching away from mine, infinities of islands, islands spawning islands”.- Elizabeth Barrett Browning

New horizons welcome my presence each day as my memories start to fade. Blue, crystal waters emulate a tragic tale of the circle of life. We will all eventually die and after death  is where our story truly begins; as the memories of us will have new color to it, they will recover themselves in the minds of those who mourn us, yearning for our breath. No food, water and no end. She seems to stretch farther with every passing minute, yet somehow my soul feels closer to the sun.

Millions of miles away, able to observe everything at once. The stars have become my best friend now as I; adrift here on this seemingly never ending ocean. The once terrifying sound of animals swimming by as the night fell, now comforts me; as if it were to never occur I might find myself going insane from the solitude. I can almost make out the curses my stomach is shouting at me. But what can I do here, pruning in the heat of the harsh sun and salty water.  In an attempt to ignore my stomach before it starts digesting itself, I focus on the sounds around me. The smallest amount of light makes its way onto the oceans reflective surface toward the east; another day has gone by.

As I am struggling to listen to the ocean over the cries of my stomach I hear a familiar sound. In fact, I think it’s one I’ve heard before. I can’t quite describe it but it seems as if there is something below the surface. It appears that my presence has interested a creature nearby. I should have expected this, at some point I would have to face death. Due to my lack of movement my muscles have begun to stiffen, so the consumption of my body should be easy; as I can not put up much of a fight. The only thing keeping me afloat in this god forsaken place, suddenly accelerates. I jump, a movement I thought I could no longer do.

My back painfully peels off of the raft as I get up to check the water beneath me. I almost screamed as I saw a large grey tail behind me, I scooted to the farthest side of my raft in shock. A shark? Dear God a shark. This is not how I wanted to spend my final hours; getting ripped apart by the one of the oceans most fearsome creatures. But it was not alone there were several others behind it, this would be a feast. My body shuddered, my nervous system kicking in as I cried. My vision clouded from the tears bursting down my face as I accepted my fate. I then began to hear clicks and whistles coming from the very creatures themselves.

I inhaled sharply, feeling relieved, I remembered that many dolphins whistle. I was proven correct as one of the dolphins emerged its head from water and seemed to smile. I thought I had gone completely insane, once I heard myself erupting with laughter. I reached my hand over the raft and rubbed its nose. I sat down once again, composing myself, watching as  the dolphins that were once the rear of the raft made their way to its sides. The dolphins were now slowly propelling the raft.

A cool breeze caressed my face, making me shiver. It’d been a while since I have encountered the cold. However it feels nice compared to the blistering heat, I smirked in the sudden comfort I now felt. I didn’t quite know where they were trying to guide me, but I didn’t question it. I belonged to the dolphins now, their beautiful grey bodies shimmering in the water. I let my head sink further into the raft, perhaps I could rest here. My eyes have been burning from my constant staring at the sky, although they were reluctant to close at first they finally obeyed

. My mind began to open, showing me images of past encounters with friends, family, co-workers, the facility I was admitted in. I was so engrossed with my own remembrances, that I couldn’t climb out of the hole my mind began to dig with them. I couldn’t escape, my eyes wouldn’t open. Then, the colors began to fade, voices became mute, and silence echoed louder than ever before. My feeling of self was fading, I couldn’t even feel the raft gently moving in the ocean anymore. There was just blackness, no sight, no movement, no end; except for my own.

dread

fills

my

chest

as She takes my hand

and leads me down a

long

corridor

with blinding darkness

and loud silence

i try

to stop

walking

but She continues to pull me along

the hallway gets

narrower

and

tighter

and the dread spreads throughout my whole body until it turns into panic and i start to shake

as the world outside the small tunnel gets more and more distant and muffled

and i can only focus on Her.

everything

is going

so

fast

and i can’t

breathe anymore

until i hear a calm but concerned voice from the outside world break through the walls.

“hey, are you okay?”

i snap out of my state of anxiety and meet the familiar eyes of my friend,

as my heart rate starts to go back to normal.

i pause as the friend’s words finally register in my mind.

“...yeah, just a little nervous.”

the friend takes my hand, the same way She did, but with a much kinder and warmer touch,

and gently

pulls me

off the ground

as Her voice

disappears

and is replaced by the familiar-sounding,

“come on, you’ll be fine.”

The loud cheering fills my ears, stripes proudly wave in the air, blocking my sight.

Today is the day - the day I come out to my parents.

Why can’t I find them?

Taking a deep breath, I walk over to my parents. My hands start to sweat; I can feel the pounding in my chest; I squeeze my eyes shut and

I am lost in a sea of people.

“Mom, Dad, I’m gay.”

I close my eyes, wishing I could find them.

I open my eyes, they stare at me. My mom gives me a smile,

“Is there something wrong, Jacob?” she asks.

My eyes widen at the sound of a familiar laugh.

                         Crap. I mentally slap myself, I didn’t tell them, another fail.

                    “Jacob, how about become a man for once and tell us what’s wrong.”

I look around more, still not seeing my family, I feel the fear pulsing in my chest.

                                my dad started gruffling at me, clenching my hands

                         The stripes disappear, the crowd of people clear.

                                                      “I’M GAY, OK?!”

                      I scream, leaving the house as I saw their horrid faces.

                           And at last, I see my future fiance with my friends, I smile.

                                                        I’m home.

I view the goal down the field, 
enlarged by all of the middle schoolers, 
unknown of what will happen next.
The ball sparkles glitter red like Dorothy's slippers. 
Charging forward along the green grass field,
I see the goalie in the distance and realize I'm not that far away anymore. 
Excitement rushes through my body, 
I realize that there are three defenders left. 
Chess pieces I'm ready to take.
Gradually powering ahead faster and faster 
because
I know that if I slow down now, that defender will get the ball.
I can get around her. 
Her frown displays toughness.
As the clock is ticking with thirty seconds left, 
I look to pass the ball, but twenty-one is covered 
by fourteen and seven.
Feeling the scorching sun against my back, 
I quickly dodge to the left making my ponytail fly.
Now it is just me and the goalkeeper. 
The confidence inside of me sparks 
like a sudden flame that 
grows 
and lights my left foot on fire.
Ready as ever to score that goal, I hear Coach yell, "Five seconds left" 
and in this very moment I know it is
all
    on
        me.

My nails don’t grow the way they used to.

They’re brittle now; raw; ragged;

Torn so many times I forgot what they used to look like.

But the moment the whites come up again

I know it’s time to peel them off,

Even if it means the gnaw marks on my fingers

Become increasingly pink

Until glittering red.

My mom tells me to let them grow.

She’s bought me nail hardeners; polishes that taste bad;

Oils that are supposed to heal my demolished cuticles.

I apply the colors of the polish,

My nails now blending in with my fingers:

A messy fusion of vile shades of red.

My mom seems impressed, satisfied even,

By the paint masking the blood behind it.

The facade inflates my disgust.

I decide, then, to peel back the paint with my teeth

And admire my work of art

With a smile.

Under this dim bathroom lighting /

a spectre looming / my face leers

bathed in ochre-tinted darkness /

My flaws can hide in these shadows /

While I am not coated in foul soot /

charcoal from the fireplace ashes /

I am still unclean / tainted by imperfection /

fire roaring against the mirror glass /

These blemishes are my cinders /

but at least I can paint some semblance

of a face / concoct normalcy

with my arsenal of cheap lipstick and eyeshadow /

I cake my face / in a desperate attempt /

to suffocate my lips eyes and nose /

smothered / stuck in a beautiful scream /

A cacophony of stepsisters jeers inside my head /

Staring into mirrors / I see them:

just slimmer, clearer, brighter versions of myself /

A siren song of temptations / of criticisms /

their beautiful smiles hypnotize my thoughts /

My godmother doesn’t sing to me /

doesn’t dry my tears / or smile

with her bluebird-colored eyes /

she, too, is only my stepmother in disguise /

Her finger jabs through swirling glass

of this mirror / and towards the corner /

where a pair of glass slippers wait /

heels rise like silver needles /

They glimmer like jagged ice /

like when the sun reflects

across the desert / to form a glittering mirage /

and I reach out to brush the glass

with eager fingertips /

“Ha! Your feet are too big

to be seen as beautiful.

You cannot fit in those shoes,”

croons my reflection.

And I smile / “Who said I ever intended to wear them?” /

I take one glass slipper / glittering like sweet starlight /

and lunge at my reflection /

glass breaks / showering like diamonds /

and I am caught in a swirl

of shooting stars /

I am Ella / cinder-free /

Ella / covered in magic /

in swirls of sapphire and brilliant silver /

Ella / crying because finally

my stepsisters are silent /

and I am beautiful /