Turn Out the Lights

Seventy-one days
of sun
and the only thing
I want is rain.

It's hard on the eyes -
all that sun.

It dries up your soul
and makes you feel
thirsty for a life
that  doesn't exist
in December.
But Christmas
doesn't exist in July -
so which would you
rather have?

I like the rain.
I like the overcast
and the grey.
I like the cool chill
of winter
kissing my neck
and whispering
frosty words
in my ear.

The sun seems to stay
too long
this time of year.

The light burns
across the sky
before even the Lark
can sing its tune
to the dawn
and the sky
stays lit
until even the owl
begs for night.

The day
prolongs itself
like an unwanted
houseguest
and I just want
it to leave.

Go now
and take the sun
with you.

Defiance (Love Conquers All. Even 8th Grade Bullies)

Sweaty palm
to sweaty palm,
I tightly held
his hand
by my side,
away
from prying eyes.

No one needed
to know he
was mine
and I was his -
for just a moment
of teenage bliss.

But then the whispers
started;
and words
like "whore", "slut",
and "traitor"
were spoken
in the same space
as my name.

He held my hand
tighter,
unafraid and unashamed.
She'd let him go
for another
like he was just another bull
in her boyfriend rodeo.

I hid my face
in his shoulder
as the whispers
grew louder.
We sank below
the horizon of the seats
and hoped
everyone would leave
us alone.

They didn't know.
They didn't care.
They heard one side
and never bothered
to ask mine.

One word of a lie
became two words
of the truth,
me against you
and words said
you
can never take back.

The windows
on the bus
fogged over
as we all rode
quietly
into the dark.

And then came
the light.

Blind for a moment
until gasps
and focus
revealed
your whispers
had become
writing
on the windows
for everyone
to read,
to laugh at me,
a friend
you so easily
made an enemy.

Whore.
Slut.
Traitor.

I let his hand go
and gave you
what you wanted,
but it was never
enough.

You always wanted
more,
to somehow prove
you were more
than I ever could be.
But what you never saw
was that he didn't want more,
he just wanted me.

I reached for his hand
and held it tight.
Sweaty palm
to sweaty palm,
we were ready for you,
your words,
your followers -
anything.

Because words
on windows
wash away,
but his hand print
on mine
will last forever.

Death and Skittles

All the colors of the rainbow
couldn't save you
from the color of your skin
or a bullet
aimed at your heart
by a hand
shaking with fear
and anger
at "people like you".

The law
may be in tact
but your life
is not. It ended
where you dropped
to the earth's floor --
stopped short
at seventeen
with Skittles in hand
and a hoodie
that won't keep you warm
anymore.

You were a stranger
in the dark
and now you're gone --
a childhood ended
one February night
because one man
couldn't just stay
in his car
and leave you alone.

We are a nation
wild with unrest
that negligence
is somehow still
innocent.

But the law
says something
different
and we all have to
live with it
or change it.

But not you.
Never you.

Your life stopped
before you
ever really got to live.

You'll never vote
for a president
or have a say
in the law
that offered you
no justice.

You'll never go
to college
or buy your first car.
You'll never own a home
or get married.
You'll never witness
the birth of your children
or bury your parents.

Your life ended
before it really began
with one gunshot
to the chest
as a pack of skittles
fell from your hand.
We'll never know
what happened
but one thing
will always ring true:
not guilty
does not mean
not responsible.

Long Live Red Lips

I never had the face of youth.
It was like I went
from twelve to twenty-two
and my face didn't change.

Makeup stains
and lipstick wonder
brightened my day
so easily
and you
stopped
to stare
at the red
I painted
across my lips
just the way
I wanted you to.

It was so simple
for a while -
the blonde, blue-eyed girl
that made you look.
Then age intruded
on us
like a scolding parent,
eager to keep the discovery
slow and snail-paced.

I still have that shade
of lipstick
and every once in a while
I swipe it across my lips
just to remember
what your stare
felt like.

Day into Night into Day

The sun burns to the ground
as all the lights go out
and darkness drops
like a curtain on the day.
No trees or light posts
stand in its way
as the world turns over
on itself into night.

It is quiet,
a welcomed silence
I have been waiting
for all my life.
I sit in the dark
and inhale
the solitude;
let it slip around me
like a summer afghan
my grandmother made
me when I was nineteen.

I let my lungs deflate -
all the hope
of the night
goes out with the air.
The night is like the day -
you're still gone
and I'm still alone.

The only thing different
at night
is that the light
is gone too.

Solitude

You've moved on 

so I tried to, too,

but how do you move

forward 

when you're at the end

of the road?

There's no turn,

no detour,

no path carved

out

letting me know

I can be found

again. 

Am I lost

or hiding?

Even I don't know. 

But the solitude

gives me

more than you

ever did

and that's enough,

isn't it?

No. 

It's more. 

It's everything.

Shedding the Skin of Our Youth

I watched you slip out of sight

as I drove out of town

and out of your life

like it had all been nothing

serious or worthwhile. 

No tears fell

for you or what was

because I knew

what was wasn't real. 

It wasn't the fairytale

or the second chance

for a high school romance

gone bad. It was just comfort

and punishment -

a different kind of pain

to help us forget

the pain of everything else

because everything else

was just too much

to deal with alone

at the time. 

Three years 

have disappeared

since then 

and suddenly

there you are

smiling

cheek-to-cheek

with another girl

in the paper. 

I always knew

there'd be someone new

standing where I stood

like I was never there - 

not once or twice

or for life

like you wanted

(a prison sentence

I wasn't comfortable with). 

It was your way

of moving forward

and it looks like

you've done it -

found your way

to a new life

where I am just 

what was,

not what is

or what will be.  

My way was to leave

and never see

your face again,

knowing you and I 

weren't right

for the second time

or ever again

just like we weren't right

the first time around. 

You look happy,

but it's just a picture

and I have a few

of my own

with that same look

on your face

and we both know

how well that went. 

Maybe you just take

good photos

when it counts

because all the other times

when the camera

wasn't out

you were always 

looking

somewhere else,

for someone else

to keep you going

like I was never enough

even though

you said I was

over and over

like you were hoping

if you said it enough

it would be true.

Or maybe you 

just wanted me

to believe it too. 

I don't know

but I certainly hope

this girl is enough

to keep you focused

on her

and her alone

because you both

deserve

to be enough

for each other. 

I smile at the thought

and toss the paper

out with our memories - 

I don't need them

anymore

now that I know

I didn't break

you 

twice.