Tuesday, February 26th

• the crushing weight of casual
  goodbyes, consuming
  every aspect of my being.

• living in
  between the
  sheets,
  day, to day.

• The hot steam
  collides with
  the huge
  snowflakes.
  Just talking
  is enough.

Monday, Feb. 25th

• Sun swept across the
  cushioned car seats,
  wind beneath feet,
  shimmering wet
  pavement of promise--
  It's all out of control.

• Heavy snow
  falls secretly
  and in silence,
  erasing color
  from the yard

• High-centered, snow locked,
  withered, frayed snapped
  tow strap,
  soggy cold toes
  puddly floor boards
  spinning, rubber burning
  tires.

Wednesday, Feb. 20th

• The giddy stare of animalistic 8th graders
  Sinks into my crumbling shoulders,
  Denim jackets, Kohls' t-shirts, and
  Sketchers' Shape-Up are
  In a Rage.

• Sitting in an uncomfortable lawn chair,
  I absentmindedly assist the
  already peeling black paint to
  liberation.

• The halls are empty,
  The silence is overwhelming,
  As I scream back-
  Alone.
  I am enveloped in the empty sound
  Infinite.

• Smashing ripe fruits to a pulp,
  A tornado of flavor,
  and color.

Tues, Feb. 19th

• Wasting body,
  revived in Heaven.
  
  The breathing out of old
       photo albums.

• Cold seat
  In hot heat
  eyes glass
  can't feel my feet

• The screaming
  echos
  till it rings
  in silence

• Warmth raging
  through chilled
  oak veins

Wednesday, January 13th

• Sitting in class
  staring through the
  smart board into
  a world that
  never was.

• She braces, as the roaring
  airplane and the runway
  are reacquainted once more.

• Chimichanga in
  
  Chimichanga out
  
  You don't want to know what's inbetween.

• The somber
  sounds of a sleepless
  sorrow.

• Eyes stitched shut,
  Body lay limp,
  The feeling of self
  Loathing is abundant,
  Taco Bell Hangover.

Tuesday, Jan. 12th

• Sun bursts
  through cracked
  white doors

• I'm like a
  baby's bottom
  
  Smooth
  And sometimes
  EXPLOSIVE

• As she ate
  chicken noodle
  soup and
  sobbed,
  she revealed a
  heart,
  a life,
  that has been
       robbed.

• Fortified skyline,
  clouds dipped in gold
  returning,
  becoming home.

Tuesday, February 5th

• The warm sun shines
  on my cool white
  skin.

• Lipstick stained coffee
  cup, out of place in
  the native lands of New Mexico.

• I couldn't see.
  Ringing in my ears.
  
  Is the movie over?

Mon., Feb. 4th

• The mountain grew
  in a parallel to my pain.
  "Back again I see,"
  as she hands me my
  TacoBell

• A dog
  A frog
  A log
  the sweet swamp
  music sound
  A velociraptor.

• Fiery tears of rage
  rolled from her
  eyes. Disappointment
  forced its way
  up her throat only
  to be shoved back
  down by the hatred
  she felt for him.

• I'm quiet and wild
  like dry ice.