when people ask...

When people ask what I am

I like to say I am a writer

Not because I understand plot

Or because I make the most realistic characters

Because I don’t

When people ask

I like to say I am a writer

Because poets breathe air back and forth

between earth and the heavens

inspiration filling their lungs

and making its way through their veins

and sometimes it feels like my breath

doesn’t even reach the stratosphere

like its left somewhere in the clouds

wondering where it all went wrong

when people ask

I say I am a writer

Because poets break spines with words

And I

I tug at heart strings

When people ask

I say I am a ghost

Because popularity never looked my way

Because I was never talented enough

to draw a crowd

Because I was never more

Because I was never a poet

When people ask

I like to say

That writing was etched into my every cell

That writing flows through my veins

like ink mixing with blood

When people ask

I say

That maybe it’s not poetry

Because maybe

it’s just my heart

When people ask

I say it’s ok

I always liked the view from the clouds anyways

When people ask what I am

I like to say I am a writer

Because I can’t imagine anything nobler

Because even if

 the angels and I never shared oxygen

I was born to be a writer

Born to be irrational

Born to be a spectator

But sometimes I swear

My voice makes it to the stratosphere

And that is something worth mention

Crybaby heart

I think I've lost my mind

Because I see you in every thing 

I see your eyes in blue sky's

And your smile in the clouds

And I hear your voice in the sunset

I hear your singing accompany the crickets 

And your laugh in the wind 

And I know it's only been 3 months since you left 

And I know that means I have 21 left 

But I day dream about you

And every night my fingers ache 

Ache to be intertwined in yours 

And my heart feels just a little more alone 

Like my ribs were never really company

But mearly the bars on its crib

Because it's crying 

Because it wants to be held 

And it wants to be heard 

But I don't indulge in pity

Or making others worry 

So I'll keep the screaming at bay 

With the lullaby 

Of nearly suffocating lungs 

And rememberig to breathe 

Because I used to complain 

That I never felt hungry 

Because I missed you

But apparently 

that may just be a side affect of bronchitis 

Which I don't think I told you I had

But now my stomach is so emotionally gone that all I have is a sense of numbness 

And the only feeling left 

Is my crybaby heart

That doesn't seem to want to sleep 

Because who knows if you are safe

And who knows if you still love me

And who knows if I will make it that far

Because I hear you are losing weight 

But I'm afraid there will be nothing left to hug

And afraid you will realize 

You can do better than me

But I've taken over your family

Which was like a pacifier to my heart

And an Advil to my mind

Because I don't want you to ever stop loving me

Once upon a time

Once upon a time 

There was a girl 

And once upon a time her heart stopped

But she didn't die

At least not as much as she wished she had

Because it started back up at full speed just moments later

She found herself 

counting her heart beats at night

And hoping the seconds between them would get longer

She would hold her breath

But only for a few seconds 

Because she feared 

one day 

she would forget to breathe

She had told ghost stories 

for as long as she could remember

But now she wishes she were one of them

She writes ghost stories

But is too afraid to share them

Mostly because 

she could never live up 

to her own nightmares 

And although she is still afraid 

to hold her breath.

She has never been scared enough 

to stop writing or telling stories

But she is 

scared enough 

To write in third person