the space between us
is filled with ink scratches
and midnight poetry
that we can't read anymore

I think its clogging my brain
full of origami love
i mean

I held the door today
for no one

and didn't care when
the water swelling from your
hips
crashed on her like a roaring wave.



 

My latest project: A Presidential Map which is basically a way of tracking the election. So the way it works is every state has a date in it which is the day of their caucuses or primaries. The pictures are all of the people running for president in an attempt at alphabetical order with Marianne Wiliamson at the top because she's my favorite.)
As the year goes on, I will cross out people who leave the race and write down the date which they dropped out. Every time a state holds its caucuses/primaries, I will write in the state whoever got the most votes for the Republicans and same for the Democrats. (I'm also gonna write down how many Marianne Williamson got if she doesn't get the top score just cause I like her. ;)) Anyway ta da! I'll keep you all updated  through tiny writes about the election and stuff so look for that!

it's funny how the stars make you think
about how much you've lost
snowflakes make you do the same thing I suppose
each different though no one can really prove that
i think humans are like snowflakes 
you can't count them and find that they are all unique
I read somewhere that there's up to 7 people in the world who are almost exactly like you
but that data is all sititng there in empty notebooks
because no scientist can count passion
no scientist can tell you what you like and who to love.
there's studies sure
but there's studies all the time 
full of abouts and approximatelys.
But no one can count the hurt you feel
or the smile you give
there's no formula for how long a life will be
or how much love a person can feel
there's no equation to solve for loneliness
or to tell you where your dreams will take you.
when math fails, the stars tell us the answer i think

(A/N This is a copy of a letter I wrote to all 100 senators asking them to remove Donald Trump from office. I am so fed up with being silent.)

Dear Senator,

We need to remove President Trump from office. Time and time again we have seen that he is guilty of many crimes and that he should not be allowed to get away with it. The president of the United States should not be above the law. And yet, if any other person did the things President Trump has done, they would be held accountable for their actions. So why, I ask you, is he still fighting back against the system that keeps America a just and fair place?

and the candle flame falls
but we still try to dream on a
cloud
dipped in memories
emersed in a bittersweet 
feel of a
grudge against the universe, a
hatred for the wretched and 
indolent sky thief for
just as we begin to love something it is 
lost in the great relms of the
majestic 
night sky. 
only in
photos of the 
quaking earth can we finally find a 
reason to live and in the 
stars we see the constellation of
the lost and loved for
underneath that blanket of light their
veins run thick with your tears
while you 
x-ray every part of their soul to hold in 
your hands until the love of the world
zips up your bleeding heart and his candle burns in our eyes forever.

 

 

I say you yesterday
holding hands with someone
as the snow came swirling around you
and your boots
swished through the flakes
and it made me happy.
I saw you standing 
in the kitchen
the smoke swirling up into your face
like a delicate candle flame
that reminded me how much 
I missed you.
I saw you in the mirror
and you mattered the most
your hair that never falls perfectly
and the annoying random blemishs
that seem to crop up
for no particular reason
and your brown eyes
and flowing hair
I saw all of you cause you matter to me
and maybe
if I'm lucky
I matter
to you.

 

every poem starts with stars
and ends with rain
because only a poet dares
to stand in each of 
these elements
with an already filled
notebook,
as they frantically scribble in the ripped margins
by the light of the stars
words that hopefully
someone will hear 
before the cold rain falls
and turns thoughts
to ink

 

I noticed today
how to lock
the doors in my math class
in case someone
decides
to bring a gun 
to
school.




 

though ink bleeds from 
my paper cuts and stings
it hurts more to be left behind
i promised i won't run away
but I can hear them all watching
someone else
with baited breath
as i slip through the cracks in the 
wall