tenth at the ham

click in 

tune out

ride up

ski down

first run of the season

trails behind the last of last

and the snow sounds the same

its a sound that soothes - swish - 

i smile behind my coat collar

clench my poles and fly

wind in my hair, breeze in my face

skis under

clouds over

soaring through the empty space in between.

birthday

i like

parties

presents

people

pancakes

pot

pictures

paint

plaid

patterns

picnics

parades

pudding

plastic cups

plastic spoons

plastic utensils in general

pepper spray

pinatas

penguins

puff pastries

puff, the word

pink poodles

poodle skirts

pretzels

preppy grandmas 

poop, by lily, in front of the -

prada store on miracle mile

pimples on pretty people

poles... ski poles

precious metals

precious cargo

precious, the word

piddle

paddle

playgrounds!

play dates

pressure points

prisms

pillows and

puddles.

but not necessarily in that order.

Act X Scene Y

what would happen though

if we didn't act

what would i do? you do?

ok

we 

would 

walk around ridiculous, speak ridiculous, and live ridiculous

and it would feel

free

would it?

would it feel free?

or would it feel like we were acting

free?

no

no

because i have felt it before

and so have you

it's really free

honest

for a second.

the next you're like

OH I'M FREE

so then 

we think we are free

and then we lose

freedom

from thinking a word that defines us

yes

that's why it cant last longer than realizing it.

julia rikki

dear j, it's love.

i also realize that so much is happening all over the world while i am opening the fridge

and that's the reason why it hurts the most

and i just want to walk out the door

but i don't have anywhere to go

and although i like to think that i don't need a destination, i'm just used to believing i do-

i don't want to live here anymore

i am better than here

and so are you.

synotyms

there is a dictionary of words 

that can only refer to

almost anything.

(n.) blorn

I found a blorn in the back of your closet.

(v.) to quazzle

He quazzled whenever he had nothing else to do.

(adj.) juffled

She looked juffled almost all the time.

(adv.) tawkly

When silence plagued the party room, the tawkly, juffled boy screamed something fierce.

be the way it should

do i feel the same as i did before?

one birthday card away from old

and my ages are my siblings -

eleven took seven by the hand and through the halls,

downtown in the rain sun & snow

while seventeen couldn't even recognize fifteen

i never even answered "i'm fifteen." what an under-said, 

under-felt -

under the shadow of sixteen- age...

to put my years in a room with four walls

and stare objectively at who i was, because

i knew her when she was young, younger, youngest

and can i look at old photographs and believe that was me?

i was she

cards, candles and cakes ago 

cant let go.

hero zero hello zorro

i once

took out a piece of a bubble

without the rest of it popping

does that make me miraculous?

or

if i told you i could speak without words

or without a mouth even--

i just stare verbs and blink nouns and squint adjectives

would that make me super?

like

i could heal you

take your pain through my ears

attentive antibiotic that is to listen

could that make me holy?

but

when i float 

like a drive with the windows cracked 

no concern for where or when

just now

that makes me infinite?

but don't be a hero.

NO, porf. PORF. thanks.

oh no.

it's a self-destructive sabotage of the infinite 

feigned feelings and so

hungry to be starving that

it kills to be brimming

with too much nonsense and

you don't make sense

because yer not being honest

red handed

18 year old anxiety 

get the fuck out of my dreams

pigs.

noups soups and troupes

heartburn 

at

sixteen!

let's live lightly and love deeply

but not too deeply... just enough to fool and fuck

and still be friends - - 

they burped after sharing soup

then talked over ice chips

and complained about chest pains

and heart pains

and window panes

that weren't properly placed in order to allow natural light to pass through the common room

because

false florescent doesn't bring out the hope in his eyes

or the truth in her smile

or anything real for that matter

it just triggers

heartburn.

bubbles in the leather

he used a cheese cloth

to

s p r e a d 

ink

and

s p e a k 

words

in art FoRm.

i used a pocket knife

to

s l i c e 

cheese

and 

s p r e a d 

it

in food ART.

not to eat

because cheese cloths and pocket knifes

are

for

sissies.

nmuaw

you know you need a muse

when

the fall foliage begins to brown and resemble

used bathroom paper towels, 

crumbled and tossed in the general direction of the garbage can

and

wilting flowers surround the mailbox with the faulty door

that wont shut... it

just falls lamely open for imminent decisions that hold too much weight

or

cold rain makes vomiting seem desirable or a cigarette too tempting

like

walking barefoot on lukewarm asphalt, cold extremities, warm heart?

what is this temperature clash, this bodily rejection

this

feels like limbo for lunatics

i'm 

just

waiting for winter.

please snow.

to soon

i was right!

life is a whole bunch of falling

but 

5 minutes of fame

5 minutes to fuck

5 minutes to feel

5 minutes til friday

5 minutes to fix everything that went wrong 5 minutes ago.

it takes time to think

about 

things that 

make us 

happy.

but not even 5 minutes to realize

we feel 

like

shit.

pain, yo

i just fucking realized

how bad it hurts to be honest

like accidentally scraping off a scab

that you've been trying so hard not to let fall off

and then

instead of revealing a light pink healing patch of skin

it starts to bleeeed all over again.

reopened wounds hurt more than opening them for the first time.

also,

truth hurts when you wait 

a 

long

ass

time

before being honest.

so here it is

bare and beautiful

this died in me

a very

long

time ago.

sorry i didn't tell you sooner.

flatulence in bed

thumb tack the size of a dime still sticks to my wall

a bright blue blob

and every time i look at it i think of scraping it off

but not long enough to actually do it--

i'm sure i could find some poems in this room

on that bookshelf in between gossip girl and of mice and men

or on that nightstand near the tissue box and behind the snow globe...

i can find a line on that shelf next to the picture frame

that holds old friends hostage-

suspended in a moment of false friendship-

but was it false then?

i found a verb under my blue carpet

and a noun stuffed into my old pink pumas in the closet

and an adjective drowning in my sock drawer

but the pronoun stuck to the tack on the wall

oh, i guess that's why i never scraped it off.

"you're in it right now"

what is it about being in it

that makes us want to be-

in it?

being in it is a feeling

not a status

it is a frame of mind

not an experience

it can be a desire, a necessity, a goal

but it is fleeting, evanescent, temporary

and nothing equals the satisfaction of knowing it is possible

to return.

the stars say yes

you are not currently following anyone

so set out to say something

and actually say it out loud

after thinking it

and feel it twice, before and after

and free yourself.