For my father

My father was the teen 

who just wanted out

Who just wanted to be done

With his family

The child who saved up his quarters 

For arcade games and soda

He was the father

Who loved his family 

His kids

His wife 

His life

And even though

He couldnt manage to keep it or himself  together

He never let go

And he never let anything 

come between him

And his family

And I will never forget 

That to him

Family was always more

And no matter what 

No matter how stupid we were

Or what choices we make 

we would always be family

And that is more

More than any girlfriend 

Any party

And any work friends 

He could ever have 

And he will always 

Be the dad who taught me to play baseball

Who took me to every game

Who bought me soda And candy 

And basically any book

Or sport equipment

I ever wanted

And the truth is I suck at sports

But I will always love them

Until the day I die

I will love them

I will be humming the tune

Take me out to the ball game

Until the day I die

Because he did 

And he bought me hot dogs

And taught me how to spit seeds

And how to be tough 

And how to throw a ball

Catch a ball 

Hit a ball

Dribble a ball

And how to be competitive

He taught me that I could do anything

my brothers could do

And I proved it 

By being the best at every sport

And by being the first child 

to start on mission papers

And even though he doesn't believe what I do

He 100 percent supports me 

and my brothers 

On going on a mission

And he supports me dating a missionary 

And working for said missionary's family

And he just wants me to be happy

And to never give up

Because he knows he taught me 

to be competitive 

for a reason

If my heart were a house

If my heart were a home

 it would be broken

Wrenched in half 

like a doll house

It's Dysfunctionality 

displayed for all to see

One room is daddy issues

One is mommy issues

One is step dad issues

The other is girlfriend after girlfriend issues

There are school issues

And growing up issues

And I never signed up for this issues

There are abandonment issues

And there is an attic full of hope

With a window so big you could leap out of it

Or stare out all night 

and feel like a part of the night sky 

There are holes in the roof that insure this

And a constant melody of crickets 

And old rock music 

I'd like to say the moon and stars 

are in this attic

But that depends on whether or not 

you believe

And all the boards seem to be

 a worn out grey

And the roof still bears some black shingles 

Almost as if it had been nearly burnt down 

Some years ago

And who's to say it didn't 

when all seems well

It is because it's been closed up

You can still see in through the windows

Just enough

To catch a whiff of the dysfunction 

To know to steer clear 

To not undo the latch

Because it doesn't stay closed well without it 

But the gaping window in the attic

Still seems to draw some in

the warning on the box says

Do not get invested in this heart

Please keep away from small children 

And the light of heart

Take care when closing If you close it while your appendages or feelings are inside

It Can inflict pain pinched skin bruising 

and heart break

Hearts that are broken 

while this product is in use 

are not under warranty 

and users will not be compensated

do not feed this product chocolate

If product is fed chocolate 

The warranty will no longer be valid

no returns will be taken

And refunds will be minimal at best

On occasion poetry will spill out of it

do not read the poetry

please treat them like soliciting phone calls

Because if you give it hope

The calls will never end

Please do not give it poetry in return

Because No refunds or returns 

Can save you

Past that point

For my mother

My mom was the woman 

who grew up so fast 

she forgot to do the growing

The teen who loved the rebel life 

But never really took part in it

The girl that beat up the boys on the playground

And never wanted to date anyone

Now she's the woman 

who was abandoned

Now Never truly appreciated

And never truly done

because she 

has passed elementary school 

and middle school 

twice now

And she has her son's graduation to prove it

She runs her daughter to work every day

And convinces her to actually buy clothing 

Instead of always getting rid of it

She also happens to be 

the part time therapist

Of her mother in law 

Who lives in her basement

She is a motivational speaker

To her 20 year old son

Who could be so much more

And she never stopped trying

because she doesn't want to let go

And even though 

I may disagree with her

from time to time

I will always respect her

for how far she's come

And for never giving up

And I owe her this

There once was a young lady who swallowed a cat (the tale of a tomboy)

There once was a young lady 

who swallowed a cat

Imagine that

She didn't remember swollowing the cat

But she could feel its claws digging in every time she shifted her weight

And from time to time she had to remind the cat that her insides were NOT a scratching post

But it never seemed to listen

She swollowed some hamburger 

Steak

Salmon

Tuna

Hoping the cat was merely hungry 

But that didn't seem to work at all

She swollowed a Halloween sized bag of chocolate 

And then remembered at the end

That only worked on dogs

Her insides churning 

Mind hitting a low jog the way a regular person would half way through a marathon

And then she remembered someone telling her something about pills

And she thought well if curiosity killed the cat

It's bound to be worth a try

She swollowed those pills 

so fast and so ready to be done 

with this seemingly bipolar cat

And those seemed to knock it out

 for a few hours 

But no matter how hard she tried 

She still never could remember 

Swollowing the cat

After all she was more of a dog person

A little taste of synesthesia

My name is purple

Not a dark purple

Not a bright purple

Not even a very light purple

A slightly dull slightly light purple

With a hint of tranquil

And transparent

Purple used to be my favorite color 

Purple was the color of my room

And is still the color of my name

Even when I hated purple 

My name was still purple

Even when 

my favorite flower changed 

from purple pansies 

to blue Daisies 

my name was still purple

My weight is green

A darker and brighter than grass green

A darker than walnut tree leaves green 

My weight is a tropical forest green

Almost A pine tree green but a little lighter 

My weight has changed and I don't remember what a lot of them were. But that one time I road a roller coaster and barely passed the weight limit

My weight was yellow

An almost orange yellow

A awkwardly orange sunflower orange 

A faded paint kind of orange 

A yellow orange crayon kind of orange

And I got bruises on my back from that roller coaster ride because I didn't quite make it. 

And even though the bruises on my back were green 

And my weight had been somewhere between my favorite color and the color of my favorite flowers leaves earlier that morning 

My weight was then yellow

But now it is green

My age is a lime green 

A little citrusy 

But mostly a well tended garden 

The kind full of sprouts 

Where nothing has really grown yet 

My hobbies are grey

Perfect

Clean

With substance

Not a clear or white 

Without commitment

Or a restraining black 

without freedom

Just grey

My thoughts are blue

My personality is blue

A limitless sea and sky blue

Monday's are a red grey

Tuesday's are a clear blue

Wednesday is green a forest green

Thursday is a grey blue

Friday is orange 

Saturday is a brown a tan dirt brown

Sunday is yellow 

My favorite numbers used to be 6 and 21 

6 was a dull blush pink 

And 21 seemed to glow but was also a Tuesday kind of color 

Now my favorite number is 123

Because it is my weight 

Because it fulfills my OCD

And because it is my favorite shade of green

Casper was an orange kind of name 

But also a white kind of name

When you add Wyatt it became a black white and orange kind of name

Davis was an orange kind of name and Tolley was a green kind of name 

But for some reason Davis Tolley was a blue and orange kind of name

Gardner was a red kind of name

Red like the clay on a base ball field 

But Mallary will always be purple

And I'm not too fond of purple

Goodbyes and lullabies

I wondered why saying goodbye Seemed so easy

And it took me a while to realize

I've had a lot of practice 

The twang of I'm sorry

The clang of its not your fault

And the pin dropping in a silent room of

I can't 

Sometimes accompanied with tears 

And a melody of whimpering 

And sometimes covered up by some cookie cutter instrumental lies

Because my goodbyes 

have always sounded a lot 

like bad country music

And the twang on my heart strings 

Always seemed a little too rough

A little too forceful 

But your goodbye 

Your goodbye was a lullaby

A plucking of heart strings 

So soft 

And so heartfelt 

I knew it was a promise

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

I'm surprised

Because I never thought

I would ever like humidity this much

Because I never thought

I could last this long without you

Because days turn into weeks so fast

And rainy days seem to be the only thing 

That reasures me

Because bronchitis is a pain in the butt

And it seems to never go away

Because people are just strangers 

Until you make them into friends

And I've never been very good at that

Because a language barrier is huge

But an ocean is bigger

And seeng monkeys in the field 

And around the house

Isn't quite the same 

when the monkeys aren't people

And I am 

surprised

Just how far I've come

Odd pairs

Smiles and butterflies

Because both are fleeting 

And I always wonder if they are real

Umbrellas and skipping

Because I've never 

experienced both at the same time

Because rain 

was made to be overbearing 

just like me

Girls and video games  

Because I never thought 

having them together 

was a big deal

Anime and real life

Because no two things 

could ever be further apart

My family and outings 

Because we never seem to go out

But when we do

We call it torture

Japan and lights 

Because I never thought Japan 

would have this many lights

Water and skin

Because nothing seemed to fit better 

Until fingers become prunes

And water becomes lukewarm

Japan and me

Because I swear 

we were destined to meet 

And I don't want to go home

10U3

Love

I saw you

On my brother's fiance's car

When the mileage was halfway between

0 and 1

I saw you in the moon

And felt you in the night air

And in every bite of good food

And even in some of the bad

But most of all

I felt you in his arms

And tears

And lips

And I know you told me

You where a ghost

But I just didn't believe

Couldn't believe

Because love said 

You were real

And love whispered 

That you would never leave me

Even though I knew you had to

Love told me 

we would always have 

that awkward side hug while we walk

And I would always 

awkwardly 

curl the ends of my fingers into yours 

And you would always be there to laugh

And make funny faces

And make me feel like I am 5 again

Because let's face it 

I'm no good at growing up

Somehow I think love is right 

You will never really be gone 

Because my heart was made for 2

And my pockets will always be filled 

With pieces of you

And poems like this one

Pumpkin hour (I wrote this a few months ago btw)

8:00

The blood pumps newly through my veins 

I could do anything

Be anything 

Because at this hour 

I have more ambition 

then I will have through the next 24

8:30

Fighting to stay awake

 is like brushing aside a feather 

easy 

light weight

9:00

My conscience kicks in

And reminds me of the mistakes I have had throughout the day

Week

And Year

9:30

The blood pumping through my brain is hurried 

I begin to flick my fore head as images appear in my brain 

dating back to kindergarten.

10:00

Feeling blue

Because maybe 

no one else feels this way at night

10:30

Down in the dumps 

11:00

Depressed, Alone

Lonely, Alone

Lost, Alone

Empty sheets

And lingering memories 

of 

long lost dreams 

11:30

Worthless 

Because why would anyone want me

12:00

Slips into insanity

1:00

Half asleep 

mumbling 

jitters

Walking 

Eating

Light switch flipping

Door opening

Not remembering 

insanity.

2:00

All this times 10

Then passing out

When I was a kid 

my mom like to call her bedtime 

pumpkin hour 

Which to her 

was a reference to cinderella's coach

as if the night could change us all. 

But it turns out nothing changes at 10:30 

the crying stays the same 

The voices in my head stay the same 

But I stopped trying to silence them 

There is no magic spell 

that changes us within that hour

The worst part is

that we were all still people 

Not a mouse who believed 

he was a white horse for a few hours.

But a person who thought 

they could be loved for a few hours 

And I have always been one that feared 

all people would ever love 

Was the magic dress that appeared 

and vanished 

just like clock work

Weeds or wild flowers

We were wild flowers on the roadside

We were sunburnt 

And thirsty

I was lost mistakes 

And new dreams

I was a few goodbyes 

And fewer hellos 

I was the ghost of my school

And the clown of our house

Because painting on smiles

Became my new hobby

9th grade might as well have been a play

Because none of it felt real

Surrounded by pedigree plants

I pretended I was just one of them

But I've learned 

That pedigree plants 

don't grow on their own 

And I never wanted 

To be one of them

And painting roses red

Never changed what they were

Or what they could be

But leaving them that way

That's where it gets dangerous

So I chipped away the paint 

piece by piece  

And when I was done 

I met some people 

Who saw me as the wild flower I was

Not just a weed

Because maybe

That's how I felt.

15 days a ghost

It's only 15 days until you leave me

But I can't complain

Because you're leaving me for God

And you promised

You promised

You would be back for me in 2 years

I'll hold you to that

At 16 days you Hugged me close

And said

You where a ghost

But you felt so warm

So real

I nearly choked

Jut 15 days

15 

days

In 13 days 

I can't hug you anymore

And in 15 

I'll wish I hugged you a lot more

Dear residents of Paris

Dear residents of Paris

Most of you know My pen name is Casper Wyatt 

What you didn't know 

is I almost went by the name

 Davis Tolley 

And that a coin flip 

was the deciding factor 

But I'm so so so glad I went by casper

I hoped a few of you 

would believe I was a guy

But I also hoped a few of you would realize I wasn't

Because I've never been good at lying

My real name is Mallary 

But that never felt real

Or maybe it was just that it felt too real

My older brother and my dad call me malla

And that feels right

But casper feels almost just as good

I know I don't talk to people a lot

I know I'm quiet

And a nerd

And not that good at this class

But I loved my stay in our hotel in Paris

And I loved spending it with all of you

I consider all of us friends  

But you would probably think that's weird 

Especially because I probably only said a few words to most of you

But thank you for this year

Thank you for reading 

Commenting

And writing 

I'm so sad we will all be moving away from our spot in Paris 

But I'd rather have a home here 

than continue on in our hotel.

And the moon still shines just as brightly

In fact I'm hoping for a good view

So please don't give up your spots in Paris 

Because you are too good to leave

And I've always been bad at goodbyes

When God made you

Baby your heart is a road map

I made all kind of turns 

And read all the street names

But never manage to get anywhere 

Because it's hard to put life on a paper

And it's hard to read a person

And although I had you all mapped out

I've never been very good 

at following maps

And I've always been good at getting lost

Just like i get lost In your eyes

But a different kind of lost

More like a suffocating 

Drowning 

Lost

My consciousness fully submerged 

And subdued 

By the seemingly endless blue

Blue like the ocean in movies

Blue like the sky

And blue like blue birds 

Because they love you too

Your hands are tools

Worn out

But precious 

Creative

And Constructive

But still tender

Your presence 

A magnet

Because sometimes 

I get captivated

By just being with you 

Drawn closer 

and closer

And when you pull away 

Just before hugging me tight

I feel a little more empty inside

Your hair

A river 

Soft

Smooth 

Refreshing

Addictive

Your smile

Is a jack hammer

Or a boxer's punches

But it deal out massive blows

And knocks me out for the count.

And darling I can tell 

God worked really hard 

on the day he made you

And he must have burned the midnight oil

Just to finish in time

Because to God 

You must have been my poetry

Because you were worth it

And I know I don't speak this way to you

But that's because 

I have the courage of a chicken nugget

And the self esteem of one too

And maybe 

if you realized how good you are 

You wouldn't be you

So I'll keep saying your amazing

And that I love you

But please cherish the poems like this one

Because they are the truth.

Abstract identity (cole)

First off reading your poetry is one of the few times hearing the f word is super exciting. 

It kind of reminded me of listening to good music because it gets to a point where it's just a part of the art style and it doesn't matter because it's so beautiful.

I love the rythem of all of your writing. I can imagine you reading it out loud every time I read it. 

I love the amount of rhyming in it and how it's could be rap but also could not depending on how it's read. 

I loved how developed your vocabulary is. It puts mine to shame and it makes me wish mine was bigger. 

I love that all these things work so well together instead of becoming a jumbled up mess. (Like it would if I tried)

 I love the feelings behind each line and that its so authentic. 

Also as a side note I love how you dealt with that crappy comment. Never lose your self confidence. 

Ps you should really post more of your writing.

Pps. Sorry if the spelling and punctuation on this is totally off I had it written up but forgot to type it up until just now and I'm half asleep.

A post I would recommend you use is variant. (http://abstractidentity.blogspot.com/2015/02/variant.html?m=1)

I really like it and all of your other pieces as well. So it is really hard to choose another.

Homeless man.

I can feel my baggy boy jeans 

falling just short of covering up 

my red and blue angels socks.

I can feel that my beanie 

Gives me the appearance 

of homeless man rather than a skater 

And once again the jeans aren't helping

And if only my socks wouldn't show

I don't wear makeup

I have skin like a war zone

My eyelashes were always too short 

My face too big for my eyes

My chin too defined

My face plagued by moles

My upper arms too big

My hair has split ends

And refuses to lay flat

And I bruise way too easy

Every day I feel like a hobo

And quite frankly look like one

But some how you love me anyways 

I hate being called perfect

But I could never tell you not to

Because maybe I like the world you see

And I'm afraid 

you'll get your vision checked

Because no Tinted lenses 

No smudged glasses

And no colored contacts 

Could make me look nearly as good 

As you see me now

(Guys I swear I'm working on something better than this and I know I haven't posted in a long while. but, I needed to fill the gap with something)

(^~^)/* goodbye for now.

Stone garden

Once I stumbled upon a stone garden

I hoped there would be more 

But there were only sad people

Reading sad names

And making sad faces

There were words Etched into stone 

In sad spots 

and sad places

Some of them had fought in a war

Where as others 

just couldn't take it anymore

Some never managed to be accepted

And others appeared as if they were only here to be tested

Some stones had cradles 

And rocking horses 

Stamped in them

Buried by there parents 

who only wished

They could still tap morse code to them as they slumbered in their bellies

Because that was all they got.

I wandered for a bit

But didn't stay for long

Because one day 

I'll have my own garden

And I can't imagine what words

will find their way

Into my stone

And to be honest

I'm afraid 

Afraid no words will find their way

And all I'll ever be is a blank slate

My mother said she wants to be cremated

But I promised her 

either way she will be under the dirt

And I will find her a stone

And I will carve in words

Because people were made

To be remembered.

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

Word painting (trying something different)

A girl leaves foot prints of red 

but Her feet are not bleeding

Because the world can't hurt Her

But her connection to the earth 

has been severed

And her soul is bleeding 

Out of the soles of her feet

She feels lost 

because she appears to be surrounded

by a maze of red footprints 

where she has already walked In circles 

again 

and again 

and again

The trees are brown 

The leaves are green

The earth is white

And the people are grey

They leave no footprints

But whatever color she had 

left When her soul started to bleed out

And even though she suspects she is lost

And knows she won't be found

Something keeps her feet moving

And something 

stops her soul from healing

But something keeps her blood flowing

And she suspects it is her heart

one day she found a new set of footprints

They were blue

And they were cold

But they were there

She followed them to the boy 

with a broken heart

And patched up his heart 

before he bled out

And even though their footprints 

never stopped

And the world seemed just as white
and just as full of grey people

And they still had no idea where their
feet were trying to take them

They knew they would make it there together

Listening to prayers

We paint on smiles that match our skin

And robotic voices echo through the building

They told me work 

would be my escape from home

But now I have trouble 

seeing the difference

Because I paint on a smile for you each morning

And tell you less each day

But today I found myself listening in again

I'm sorry I stopped

And I'm sorry I did

And I'm sorry I do

But I'm mostly sorry I stopped

I'm sorry that even though 

you don't realize it

My soul is older than yours on occasion

And I don't know when 

I stopped being there for you  

Because I used to listen in 

on every crying phone call 

And every heart felt prayer

But last time I knocked on your door 

Hoping you would finally realize 

I've been here all along

And you shut and locked yourself up

 deep down inside

And eventually I think I thought 

I could listen to music with headphones in

Because there was nothing to miss

I've never been ok 

putting both earbuds in my ear

Until this year

And I don't think I'll find it ok again

Because dear

No matter how much your new husband pretends

Everything is not ok

And I wanted to be the one 

you finally admitted the words

"I feel broken" to

But I wasn't

Instead it was your moms cousin 

who lives down the road

And that makes me want to cry

But I heard it mom

I heard it

And I won't miss you saying it again

And maybe when I've moved out 

You'll finally say it to me

So here's to wishes

That I finally stop painting on smiles

And let my voice ring true

Because I wouldn't be here without you

And I won't let you be alone 

Withdrawals

It's only been a day 

but I already miss you

I feel like an alcoholic trying to sober up

But I never wanted you to go

I feel like a heroin addict 

going through withdrawals 

Like an alpine mom with a migraine 

Because she never got her diet coke

And every part of me 

from the itching between each rib 

And the numbness in my toes 

to this imaginary migraine 

are signs that I miss you.

And the truth is I was with you just last night.

And I will see you tomorrow

And you aren't going anywhere

At least not yet

Socks

I have never liked socks

If I don't wear shoes 

I'm not wearing socks

I do not sleep with socks on

And I do not know how it would even work

If you sleep with your socks on

It's likely I will never fully understand you 

My socks never match

Because I stopped caring 

about taking the time 

to make them do so

Socks were never my thing 

Because they wore out too fast

Turn black upon the first step outside

And the feeling of worn out thick socks 

on calloused feet was like 

wearing a coat inside 

an uncomfortably hot room 

I never liked their texture

Or the line over the toes where they are stitched up

I would cry when I was younger because the line was on the wrong part of my foot when I put shoes on

And my poor mother would have to untie my shoes take them off straighten my socks and start all over. But it never sit just right.

When I got older I'm convinced 

my parents bought me socks two sizes too big 

And the end always flopped over 

And my dad always said 

I had a smurf hat on the end of my toes

And maybe 

that was my mother's response 

to my strong hate 

for the line across the toes of my socks

Maybe that would stop it from touching me

And keep it out of mind 

And maybe it worked 

because eventually I grew into those socks 

And eventually I learned to live with it

And now I have lost almost all the matches to my socks 

or have been forced to throw them away 

due to the fact that they were full of holes

And even when I see a matching pair 

Right in front of me 

something makes me 

pick up only one of them

And then dig to find another

I think I gave up on perfection

The moment I learned to live 

with the lines 

across the toes 

of my socks

photography by ~me

socks and shoes owned by ~me

feet~not mine

i'm taking this chance to thank my mom because she posed for this for like 10 minutes and that is a long time to stand still.

Caterpillars

I feel a little out of it and maybe I'm just tired

But today I learned about how stimuli can cause people to react if followed by a certain response for long enough 

And they call this a conditioned response 

And it seems like eating good food with you has made me want to do nothing but eat good food

And I don't want to eat without you by my side

And maybe I learned it all wrong

And maybe this is a terrible example

But I know that you are leaving soon

And so am I

But I don't want to let you go 

I know that you need to leave your cacoon and I know you will be happier when you do

And I know I too will have to leave some day

But I have a feeling 

Even though we both started out as caterpillars

You will come out and fly away a butterfly

And maybe all I'll ever be is a moth

And I'm not just being sexist because pretty much every species in nature the male is more beautiful or colorful or elegant than the female

But maybe nature was waiting for me to see the comparison 

And maybe nature was trying to break it to me slowly

But I learned from tv shows that moths are stronger so maybe that's what I'll be

Even though I can never measure up to what you are maybe I'll be stronger

And maybe that will be what you need

When we both find each other in the sky

Oh how I hope we will

And oh how I hope it will be soon. 

Game over (poetry workshop)

Mom and dad

No.   Sorry.

Now it's

My mom and my dad

No sorry that's not right either

My mom

And

My dad

But that may not be entirely accurate anymore 

Because not even 100 breaths between words 

Sums up the distance between you

And it's been that way

ever since that 

innocent.

cool.

summers day

Because no one celebrates divorce anniversaries 

And now it seems like I am the only one who wishes people did

Because I know I've accepted the way our lives are now

But that won't stop me from wishing it didn't change

Because even though there is no constant war 

over who's family we are spend thanksgivings day with

And no more threatenings of finding coal in our stockings on Christmas Day

Nothing could replace those cool summers days

And the last one ended at 12 in the afternoon 

And even now I can feel the breeze 

and the sun in my heart 

like our lives were merely paused 

But there is no resume button 

and I'm starting to realize 

maybe we just reached 

a game over

perfect and things that aren't synonymous with it

It seems like people throw around the word perfect like its some brand of yogurt.

But something inside of me dies each time they use it to describe me.

Because I never was nor will I ever be perfect

And lying was never me

And sometimes I'm afraid to live in a world where what I am is perfect

So what is perfect

And what caused you to think we were synonymous 

And you must have fallen into some haze to think I could even shine a light on the word perfect.

Because I wasn't really your perfect daughter 

I was your only daughter

Because perfect is the monster under my bed

And perfect is scary

And perfect is pressing 

And perfect demands attention

And I've never met perfect

And I'm pretty sure perfect never wanted to meet me

If by some chance someday we meet it will be because someone gave perfect the wrong directions 

and perfect will be able to tell the difference from a mere glance

And then perfect will turn around and just keep on walking

Because Perfect has never even spoken my name 

Because perfect was never a synonym for

Broken

Worried

Forgotten 

Because perfect never told a lie

Or made a mistake

And perfect never scribbled in my handwriting

Perfect may have used a pen

But perfect did not use and abandoned pen found on the floor

Perfect never wore bulky sweaters or baggy shirts

And perfect never shared a name with someone more talented than them

And I'm pretty sure perfect wears brand name clothing and makeup

And I'm pretty sure perfect has clear skin

Maybe perfect isn't beautiful

But I'm pretty sure perfect is kind

And perfect is smart

And full of compliments to give

Perfect is probably clever and funny

And maybe perfect is you

But trust me perfect is not me

So go pick up a thesaurus before you start to write poetry

Im failing

I'm sorry i'm failing your class

I'm sorry I have a job 

and a family that's split in two

I'm sorry I'd rather write this poem

Than work on homework 

I'm sorry I stayed after school to work on this poem

Instead of get help on homework

I'm sorry

That I ache to write

To feel

To believe

Ad I'm sorry I don't believe

Y=mx+b will solve all my problems

And soh cah toa 

Will fulfill my dreams

I'm sorry that you know I need to know this stuff

And I'm failing

Because pi was never as cool as you made it out to be

And math never taught me how to mend a broken heart

And math never hid my tears

And math never set me free

So I'm sorry but 

I think I'll stick to writing

This one is short and I don't know what to call it

I'm a little tired right now
and I just heard someone say
"patience is a great thing. If you have time for it."
And I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

In truth this man is my step father
And in truth I don't think he should ever create motivational posters.

But he looked at the moon and said it looked far away.
And I couldn't help but wish that the moon were closer.

Because maybe I have abandonment issues

And maybe the moon has been the most constant thing in my erratic teenage life

And maybe I'm afraid that will change

Pack rat

You call me a pack rat

Because I Still  have that plastic lizard I got from the dentist when I was 5.

And the toy car my brother gave me when I was 4 

And the plastic alien with the base ball batt I got at trafalga when I was 6

You say I need to clean my room 

Because you can't see into all the note books on my floor 

and can't read the writing inside 

and you can't see that even the empty ones had a plan. 

They just haven't made it yet 

and I don't intend to be the one to stop them.

You say I need to de junk

Because I still have old glass bottles

And old video game cases

And books next to my bed I wanted to read 2 years ago

But I can't let go. Because what if I end up needing them.

I have 3 old sports trophies from back when I could still win those. 

Because I wasn't always a looser

I have 3 China dolls I got from my grandmother but don't look at anymore because they creep me out. 

I have 3 stuffed animals I got from boys which are practically trophies

And an old valentine that was related to my favorite video game 

I have 4 sets of the Book of Mormon because I could never mark scriptures just right.

I have an old chair with a design I never liked because it's comfortable to sit in in a weird neck breaking way

I have 7 or so glass dogs because I kept picking up more from the dollar store and didn't want to throw them away. 

I have 2 pairs of cleats that I never wear because I don't have the time or talent to play sports anymore.

I have 20 or so hats because it's called a collection for a reason.

I have 13 polished rocks sitting in a tin box because what else would I do with them.

I have a littlest pet shop digital pet and a tamagotchi that both ran out of batteries long ago. 

I have zebra duct tape I am afraid to use

Because then it will be gone.

I have an old tv no one wants that isn't even hooked up to anything because it's not mine to throw away

I have 15 necklaces I never wear because they were gifts and I can't help but think I'll wear them some day.

I have 25 or so pairs of earrings but I stopped wearing them 2 years ago

I have old crossword puzzle books because I'm still working on them even though I've probably only finished a page. 

I have 5 sculptures I don't even know what to do with

And some left over Christmas lifesavers 

And I guess you could say it's a mess

But I'm not ready to change

Sorry yet another poem about love...

I know you love me

But sometimes I wonder how strongly

Because I want you to love me

Like the painter loves to paint

I want you to love me as strongly

as The Gravity that causes 

the moon to circle the earth 

I want you to love me

Like the stars live to shine

Because I swear I live to love you

I want you to love me

Like a man in a desert loves water

And like a child loves dessert

I want you to love me 

the way a dog loves everything

And the way tourists like to take pictures

I want you to love me 

like the blind man Wishes to see

I want you to love me

The way cold toes love blankets

And the way hands love steaming mugs 

of hot cocoa

Because that is the way 

I love you

Book review

I really. The book
"You don't know me"
By David klass

And I absolutely loved it

The way it was written with metaphors and lies in the same sentences and intermingling and contradicting made it a fun book to pick apart. It really tested me in paying attention instead of a fluffy book you can just drift through it made me think. I loved that even though it was a depressing book it had a good ending even though it wasn't a happy ending the endig was happy. I liked that the main guy had to learn through experience that the popular prissy chick who ha never spoken to him before and only talks about clothing and people she hates is not a good friend let alone love I treat and that another girl takes over and becomes friends with him leaving it with a warm feel and that the end wrapped up the message conveyed throughout the whole book and made it make sense for those who were confused or were assumig as to what it mean and who he wrote the book to and why.

This book is amazing and short I would recomend it to anyone willing to pick through it and she's a tear along the way. It's more of a book for guys but the feeling at the end with the other girl gives it a romance feel that girls would like and if you like interesting books like this regardless of gender or just want to try something new I highly recommend it.

Although the cover drives many away if you can read the first chapter and find it interesting you will enjoy it (although the second and third chapters may seem pretty dry it picks up)