Jan 26

thumb pick

i wish i knew you. 

god, i’ve heard so much. 

i don’t know your eye color 


somehow i always feel guilty 

when people ask 


and i know i was there 


it still feels like

i was never there 



i can remember the way 

you made me feel, 

in a way. 

it’s quite dull 

and fading now. 

everyone talks about how 

amazing you 

were— their eyes 

light up

and i can’t stand it 

because i can’t 

feel that way about a stranger. 

and that’s what you are. 

a stranger. 

without photographs 

you would just be another face 

in the crowd.
Dec 05


Nov 05


i feel the fear of missing out 

lying between my ligaments 

they pull against the bed frame

where i am tethered 

my bones vibrate with the wind curling around my curtains 

but my tendons wrap tighter around the sheets and tell me to give in,

to sleep,

but my fear transcends any

pain my body could feel 

i could live ten lifetimes

and not hurt enough to know how 

you hurt me.
Oct 24

bug zappers

you were the only one 
who never told me 
i couldn't do something. 
and then you did. 
and told me you hadn't. 
i have thought you many things,
a liar was not one. 
'life doesn't stay the same'
Oct 07

Soldier, Poet, King.


Pebbles were my downfall,

long strides balanced by the grooves in my soles, 

flattened by the pebbles stuck within. 

I carry my weight. I could burn a country down if I wanted to. If I tried to. 

Because I carry my weight. 

They say, Maelan only carries her weight in 


But I know better. I know who I can be. The fire in my palms burns through my skin and powers my sword, ready to swing. I will tear this city down. 


Pebbles were my beginning 

Small feet galloping between them, feet lifted by their forms. 

I carry my weight. I carry it in my quill 

in my parchment and in my mind. 

I could write a map to the center of the world, if i wanted to. If I tried to. 

Because I carry my weight. 

They say, Filë only speaks in riddles, meaningless formations. 
Sep 19

since 2010

you’ve done so much for me. 

most of it isn’t you doing things like giving me a gift or whatever, it’s you being there when i need you

it’s the relief i felt at just seeing your face.

it’s the joy i felt after realizing you were so much more than a familiar face

it’s the laughter i laughed after being around you. 

it’s the little sketch you did of me still hanging on my wall, framed. 

it’s all the little moments that put bandaids on my little scars. sure, they’re little. but they’re still scars and they add up. and i would much rather have you constantly patching up the little spots than patching up a big spot once.
Aug 01

happy birthday

i haven’t cried this hard since that one black haired guy broke that blonde girls heart in that one teen romance movie i marginally liked. 

but this is different because i feel so stupid. 

so god damn stupid. 

for spending half my money on you. 

for hoping you would treat my heart with care. 

i feel like an idiot for wishing that my sister would come back, 

but all i got was you. 

the shell of the person i watched terrible movies with. one half of the person i felt safe with. 

all i got was someone who was so used to fooling others that they fooled themselves too. 

you’ve tricked yourself into believing everyone else has done you wrong. 

never you. 

you could never do wrong. 
Jun 19


my heart sunk 

when she told me to 

calm down 


funny enough

freaking out used 

to be our thing

over small things 

big things 


we were the good ones 

the ones untouched by the outer world. the ones with 

kind souls 

and lawful lips

but now those lips are sealed tight 

around a brown 

glass bottle 

and i am being told to 

calm down. 

everyone does it. 

i’m a city girl now. 

calm down, i am told. 

funny enough

calming her down

to be my thing

i was the less-anxious-but-still-very-anxious-one. 

i would calm her down 

over small things. 

big things 


push and pull 

used to be our thing 
Jun 06


i know i should save her,

as her life lines fray. 

but her wicked and uncertain fingers 

weave an unpleasant tale. 

it’s easy to preach from 

inside of a church,

but it is much harder to care 

out here, surrounded by threats 

and needles 

planted in the dirt 

that prod at your ankles. 

out here, it is easy to 

forget how vital she is. 

out here, led by 

a man who’s 

heart beats to a 

completely different 

melody, it is easy to brew 

a hatred for her. 

i know i have.  

but no matter how miserable i am 

when i sit silently next to her,

i know i am more miserable 

sitting alone. 
Apr 18


he was my guidance,

the flame that lit my soul.

His slightly tanned hands molded me from a

lump of cold clay.

He shaped me, a linguistic michael angelo,

he carved my mind with his mellifluous words;

each one twisting my spine, vertebrae by vertebrae until I cannot go back to the way I was.

He was my Zeus, mighty and sempiternal, He is the one who drew the map and led me

away from Lost. He is the one that made me lift

a pen and make shapes that freed my mind. He is the one that taught me how to teach.

He is the one that my soul will miss most. He awakened something

in me so real, so alive, that no matter what weapon the monster beneath my bed shoves

into my hands and whispers wickedly ‘do it. do it for real, this time’ I will refuse. I will embrace the