Better Off

I fount those pictures you took of me

Early last summer

Hidden under my bed sheet –

I wonder, will anyone see such beauty in me again?

And I hate myself for wasting your love

Time and time again.


I hope you’re well,

And I wish I could apologize

For putting you through Hell,

But we both know I’m no good

At saying how I feel

Out loud.


Everyone is sick of desperately

Trying to sort me out –

And no one can seem to read me

Quite as well as you.

It’s clear you’ll be better off without me,

But I cant say I’ll ever be okay without you.

Half Dead Flowers

Let’s dance to Joy Division

And kiss to Morrissey

Listen to music and lay with me

Until your scent is on my sheets


Bring me half dead flowers in the morning,

And trace my smile with your

Cigarette tainted thumb

As you kiss me on the cheek


Whisper coffee-kissed nothings

Into my impatient ears

As I watch you forget to lock the door

Every time you leave


What does it mean when

your favorite color isn’t even

A color at all?

But merely –

A lack of everything or

The absence of nothing,

All at once,

Mixed together in a cloud of mystery and uncertainty.


My favorite color is the color of


The color of your dilated pupils that swim through your ocean blue eyes,

The color of the inside of your mouth as it collides with mine –

The color of the space between our bodies as we lay in my room;

The color of sleeping next to you.


My favorite color is the color of


The infinite vacuum in which my entire existence is based –

The color of the lightyears which separate the stars

And of of selfish, destructive meteors;

The color of creation, destruction, and starting anew.

My favorite color is the color of


So quiet that you’re overwhelmed with noise –

The color of the moments between thunder and lightning,

Where everything seems to stop –

The color of the space between every heartbeat or breath within my body.

My favorite color is a contradiction,

A romanticized paradox.

My favorite color is nothing and everything

All at once.


Part of me is forever laughing with the girls in the street,

Big dreams in our minds and gravel under our feet.

Small town blues and water tower love

Will eternally haunt all the streets that we drove.


Late nights and early sunsets

Are the times I don’t ever want to forget –

All dressed up with nowhere to go,

Who’d have guessed we’d ever reach this low?


We meet outside the school, at half past three –

I smile at you, and you smile at me.

My life is nearly over, but yours is just beginning –

I thought I was losing, but now I can see that I’m winning.


And I love this life that we’re living,

And I love this lie that we’re telling;

I love this all so much –

I love you, don’t you know?

Photo Album

I think in some alternate universe

I’ll be trapped forever inside these

Deep purple walls,

Looking outside the window and watching

The boys in their jumpers

Racing eachother on shiny new bicycles –

Two wheeled memories that will someday only be a metaphor

Of nostalgic comfort and

Wasted youth


He told me to smile more

But he didn’t realize that the only time I ever smiled

Was when we were apart,

Polaroids featuring my fleeting grin decorated the walls

None of them taken by him

And his selfish hand that only loved my smile

Because of the way

It reminded him of

The other girl


His name is forever immortalized in my

Leather bound photo album

Whose pages are

Tearing at the seams so much that they

Can hardly even hold

A note taped to the back of a photograph

Of a girl who had no idea

What she was getting

Herself into.

A Poem For February

I’m not saying that I’ll miss you

But I don’t want to let you go

Your brown eyes are the only warmth I can find

In this cold midwestern snow


Maybe the ice can freeze the clock

Or at least make time move slow

It’s time that you’ll be leaving soon

But I don’t want to let you go


Winter’s only got six more weeks

Or so says the groundhog’s shadow

So just lay with me a moment more

Before I have to let you go


And when the ice breaks

Making us move our separate ways

I’ll swim across the frost bitten ocean

Just to see you once again

Broken Soul from Apartment #4

While I was writing this poem, I was singing it in my head and ended up turning it into a song because it just seemed to flow that way.  So, needless to say, later today I’ll be busting out the guitar and putting some music to it.   But for now, here’s the poem!~


Vintage records are playing loud

To mask the sound

Of  your despair

As teardrops soak the only sweater that you wear –


And you wonder what went wrong.


The candles have all burned out

And every rose has wilted now

You’re left alone in the dark with nothing but the smell

Of a love too headstrong to ever go well


And your boyfriend’s hanging out in bathroom stalls

While you

Drive past your best friend’s house

But she’s not there –

She never will be;

You’re simply hanging on to a memory

That’s slowly fading but is still so bold and beautiful

For now.