I forgot about the sun.I forgot about 2013 and rhymes on napkins and I forgot about sleeping with my face to the wall.And I forgot about soldiers and how we couldn't have a real Christmas tree in Texas because it might light on fire and I forgot about a textbook that taught me about hope and Indians.There were piano keys and fifteens.Then they...

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This is for the girls scribbling chemistry notes in the margins.The ones who outgrew attaching last names in the third grade.The ones looking for a ticket out.A ticket east.This is for you,Because I can't write to myself.This is for the girls who hide their seams.The ones who run on the dust just to avoid the asphalt and the eyes.This is for those who...

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I saw the lights line up last night.Not the stars,Just the street lamps.I saw the hands on the asphalt,And the skin,And the sheets.And it was real.And I remembered other real things.Self-help books andCop cars andTrying to force an appreciation for country music.I remembered swearing we could hear Indians while we sat on the little roof of the little house on the little mountain...

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Honey your heart is a telescope.I'm tracing constellations you put together of your own storieslike I'm watching reruns of sophomore year through its lens.Its walls are worn thin from 18 years of pacinglike someone couldn't make up their mind.There are stars there, too.but some of them are far colder than they were meant to be.Most likely there's a moon tugging one way or another.And someone labeled...

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I'm home at last and I still haven't slept in my own bed since Thursday.It has nothing to do with your arms and everything to do with songs we aren't even allowed to listen to and goodbyes that won't sting our lips for another six months yet they're forever sitting in the back seat.It's the girl that hated me in the fifth grade, but we...

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roll your shoulders forward to protect your heart remember hallways are more than to & from goodbyes aren't always worth the breath do your calculus homework if only for the sense of accomplishment organized hearts are rarely worth holding rib cages are invincible for today alone let the stars keep their stories forgive the mothers & fathers keep your heels on the pavement...

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you asked me to write about death,but all that comes to mind is hands.handson the small of my back.fingerson my scalp.&printseverywhere they shouldn't be.there's a vulnerability to it.and I'm flipping back through the pageslooking for your armsbut arms are nothing without hands,and these handsthese handsthese hands are pushing me towards the edge.it is constantit is steady and patient,and only the narrator can put...

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I'm being quite honest when I say that this is not a poem. Anything but, in reality.This is me shouting out to the universe for a moment about people and places and days that matter.This is a thank you note to fathers because even if I'm never quite sure if mine is in the same state as me, that's alright because he still...

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I'd like to have a few words with you. Nothing to worry about, I assure you. Just a thought, really. Something that's been on my mind. And it never hurts to ask, right? That's what they told me at least. (it was on the handout they gave me on "how to be your best self") Just spit it out, you say? You've got...

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things that are scary: 1.  numbers on waistbands 2. numbers in textbooks 3. statistics about sad things that are real life 4. songs for people & places & days that used to be 5. missing a spot 6. jumping off of tall things, bridges in particular 7. silent treatment from mom 8. knowing you deserve it 9. not-so-flat stomachs 10. no new notifications...

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Oh but darling, what if we were allowed to say no? As if  we were whatever we wished to be. As if she called the shots. As if poetry wasn't an assignment and we all found ourselves  because we went looking and not because someone older & wiser tapped you on the shoulder. As if I didn't mind coming home to an unmade...

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-go off-roading (preferably in lambert)-give your mom detailed descriptions of your day thus far-make cookies-pinterest-flirt in the parking lot-watch old "the office" episodes-read your scriptures-don't go to haunted houses-put thoughts down on paper-start a foundation, pick any disease off of wikipedia as long as nobody else has dibs-kiss a boy that's bad for you-go to church-walk the dog-photograph tibblefork-watch "the parent trap"-people watch-make...

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You've got tired eyes.Bitter eyes.I-think-I-ought-to-try-coffee eyes.Business call eyes.Blue-ink-only eyes.You've got slow eyes.Honey eyes.Backstory eyes.Unread-answers eyes.Blanket eyes.They-won't-miss-us eyes.You've got busy eyes.A-thousand-words-in-your-pupil eyes.High noon eyes.You've got proud eyes.Royal eyes.Going-places eyes.Sunrise eyes.You've got bright eyes.Ready eyes.Been-there eyes.Thursday-evening eyes.Calculating eyes.Summit eyes.& I think I'd like them to be mine. ...

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I woke up with sugar fermenting on my tongue, and a letter from you in my hand. I woke up with questions & answers that don't match and ideas that don't belong. I woke up with runs carved through my mind, and trembling hands. I woke up with one name on my lips and another hovering in my thoughts. I woke up and...

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18 minutes left of class.but I know I'll never be Lexi,because I'll never learn to paste my pain on a screenwith words to make the rest of us catch our breath.16 minutes left of classand my head is spinning                      swimming                       drowningand there are...

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If bricks were minutes you'd have far too many of mine already,and I'd be stealing yours whenever you turn away.If bricks were prayers we'd each have a small city built up behind the bedroom door,but only if you'll count the ones behind the steering wheel instead of on our knees.If bricks were friends that used to be I'd really only have three,because people...

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All I know is there's a deck of 52 things a boy loved about me hidden in my top right drawer.(Except they're not all that hidden.)All I know is I believe in clichés and that love is wanting in the nicest way and that the best ones have no "supposed to's".I'm not supposed to want to drop everything for you, but you weren't...

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someone else's gas moneyburger chains you've never triedpavement singed bare feetrumours I wouldn't correctanything but resttents and high ceilingsraspberry jamstance socksballoons with heliumthe temper trapnewly waxed skispraying because you're happysock tan linesstraight facesback two rows of the busorange juicefridaysphotos you don't remember takingpleated skirtspeople who you don't remember becoming friends with, you just arenot everybody winning a medalpostcardsred mangoholding handsjeepsnew cities8th grade journal...

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Quilts heavy Eyes heavy Words heavy And we don't know what to do with them. Words wander Hands wander Thoughts wander And we don't know where to go with them. Baby don't let them steal your breath. Don't loosen your grip on your humanity. I know and he knows it's the one thing with which we do what we wish. We are what...

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"Just Like Heaven" was playing but I wasn't sitting shotgun and you weren't late for curfew and the odds weren't in my favor.You danced through my kitchen today and I realized just how many of you have let me breathe into your chest in the doorframe.Because hearts get worn but my hands aren't heavy now. Not yet. This isn't good for me quite...

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This is a true story about how nobody ever took my crayons.I just forgot about them.Maybe I realized that watercolors look more elegant and colored pencils more sophisticated and nobody ever takes crayons seriously anyways and maybe I used to believe that being taken seriously was worth more than my crayons.But this is a true story about how I danced with you last...

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I only have two stamps in my passport. Two stamps. Three weeks, roughly. But Paris is on the list, baby. I want her streets and her rain to swallow my shoes. I want her autumn to sting my lips and her language to infiltrate my dreams like a thousand marching men flood a valley. Paris is the list. And we're all very much aware that...

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I just want my words to be worth reading. I want you to know me without ever hearing my name. (it could happen you know.) I want each of you to know I will always choose people over sleep, chocolate over vanilla, and honestly any road before treadmills.  I want you to believe me when I say that not-quite-18 doesn't mean I'm not...

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We wanted a grand finale to seal up our summer, one night to define three months worth of curfews. We wanted goodbyes to never sting but if we're being honest I cried siting inbetween J & C yesterday. We wanted the cuts to scar just so we'd have a story to tell, and for snocones to never get old and for just a...

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Find music loud enough to shake the dust and save your thoughts for Monday. ...

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She bought pretty dresses and pretty words. And it didn't matter from which mouth they spilled, so long as the strung-together sentences glistened when they hit the air. She watched 17 fade along with the hands that had shaped it, but she didn't mind all that much either. Backyard volleyball courts and fushia nail polish and jeep rides have been stamped into the...

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Once I asked Charles Darnell why some people hurt more than others.Some see more andSome want more andSome feel moreAndSome just close their eyes.AndThe ones that close their eyes still seem to me like they're looking, because the sky isn't always blue and eyes don't always see but hearts will always sting soLock it.Don't pretend you want to wantBecause however numb you think...

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The type of day when there's no way you're going to let the raindrops fade, so you leave the wipers off and keep on driving because the sun rarely lights them up on your window like this.Suede shoes that have been on first dates and goodbyes and danced more than one night away.A night when you don't need to make plans because if...

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I don't want to talk about Palestine and religion and my stupid decisions anymore. I want to talk about mountains and kit-kats and road trips.And perhaps this is terribly naive of me but I'm alright with that because, then again, I am naive.  And I have few precious months until naivety will be one more luxury I can't afford.And every sabbath one more throws...

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go ahead and call it a truce.that's what I wanted it to be anyways.although officially this wasn't even a waryouknow better than anyone what it was.there were sides picked and teams chosen and I made mine from the four kids that have stood by me for far more days thanyoubut I picked up some others along the way as well.youyouyouI never saw youcoming.and I...

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There were mountains in her eyes when I took the time to look.Mountains she had climbed, and some yet on the horizon. And even though each footstep hurt, she's the type to carry on simply because she knows each stride will take less on the way down.She's climbed more mountains than I have. But plenty of those mountains were in her way only because...

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I want to write words that are heavier than paper. I want my words to hit you and I want you to want to hold onto them. I want to take a photo and show you the thousand words it holds.So this is for the girl we called "wizard child" and snapshots that look like they came out of a 1960's national geographic and...

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It's crazy, really. Everybody has a number. However infinite life itself is every day is a number and at some point you're gonna run out of numbers; we all are. And the people that know their number live life so differently from the rest of us.  They carry around oxygen tanks or try to hold onto every second as if it were their...

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Okay so here I am. Summer blogging.  Spilling out words and trying to make them into poems.  To be perfectly honest I don't even know why I'm doing this Nelson, but I'll give it a shot. Also, this blog is just for inbetween.  We're not juniors any longer, but we're not quite seniors either.  Wandering around for 81 days until suddenly we're on...

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