the resolution

in 2009 i gave away my heart.

in 2010 it was broken.

in 2010 i almost died,

and was given the chance to live.

in 2011 i plan on living.

i plan on continuing buddhism.

i plan on hard work and exercise.

i plan on laughter

and romance

and happiness.

i plan on taking control.

this is my year.

missed the last train home

the appendix doesn't really have a purpose for the human body.

i'm beginning to feel a lot other things don't count either.

so many of my nerves and cells are useless and wasted.

i am so tired of making horrible decisions.

my eyes are heavy, sleep never comes, to mock me of my mistakes.

december is so cruel. bones and blood traded with ice.

Big Jet Plane

Finally figured it out.

I need to see this world,

I need to see beauty, to believe it actually exists.

Sitting in my living room, haunted by everything.

I want to be on a shore,

surrounded by sounds, languages, tastes and smells.

I am here, with silence,

the heat of the fire dying.

Am I just sitting here, waiting to fade out?

Countries, capitals. Mountains, oceans.

I need you so badly.

The colors of India.

The animals of Australia.

The romance of Spain.

The aroma of Italy.

The heritage of Prague.

The shores of Brazil.

The home in Costa Rica.

In the midwest, surrounded by land, I feel so trapped.

There's this ache in my chest, finding out that is was wanderlust,

only makes me ache more knowing it'll be so long.

There is new love and new addresses out there to discover.

I'm here with the ice, the pain and the darkness.

Knowing far too well if I was able, I'd never come back.

Home

still dizzy from drinking.

stayed up half the night.

seeing a long lost brother

in a day.

will his hair be long,

will he still be afraid to 

look his little sister in the eyes?

will i cry at the airport?

will there be gifts, to make up

for lost time and so many 

unspoken sentences?

if he had been near, 

how would life be for me?

change is the only thing constant.

I gotta blow away with the wind.

homesick, not sick for my house,

nostalgic for a place i call home.

a family of peace and light.

i miss you, but we'll embrace in

the dark,

not actually seeing, not really feeling.

Fingertips

As long as I feel my pulse,

running strongly in the throat, softly in my fingertips.

I am still floating on.

You broke into me, like a madman burglarizing a store of precious gems. 

But I remain. Does that upset you. That you didn't get the best of me.

That you couldn't blow down my wall, not with all the might in your body.

I dream hopelessly of a love that can last through it all, our ashes and bones

mix together to see the end of the world. 

I wish to entwine hands and feel the pulse in your fingertips.

You, my faraway love.

I want to want to make you breakfast, 

and tie your socks together, the way my grandmother does.

Grow old with passion, and a sense of madness..

That I could look into the same eyes my whole life,

and know I was right.

Until then, I have my pulse, and my insane sanity.

You all never got the best of me.

Stars

I want sand, and sea. 

providing the shells and reefs.
I want castles and sunsets.
forests that never end.
temples and deserts.
roundabouts and skyscrapers.
I want more beauty,
something that can never be fully obtained.
I want the universe, the stars and moons and planets that shift and
Realizing nothing stays the same. 
Trees age and fall.
Rocks become sand,
Snow will melt,
tides will come and go.
Not even the stars will stay, everyday moving slowly out of view.
You can come and go, I've learned that everything does.
It's out divine nature to evolve and create and collapse.
I want to explode, let everything inside be everything I see.
I want to see what beauty lies so far in.
As the world seems to be changing, I want to cry out and say STOP.
I want to capture one moment of beauty, for what it was at that time in history.
Nothing will stay the same. 
Fireflies fade and stars evaporate.
My bones are stretching, my last breath unlike the next. 
My hair ever growing, and my eyes are finally closing.
The world starts over at dawn, what a beautiful idea.

 

 

I Would Have Ran, I would have flown.

Never asked of you any approval,

any gold star, hand shake or award.

I asked for love. And respect.

I asked for the acknowledgment

of the blood that runs through your

veins and mine. 

So similar, so different.

Same pale eyes, same soft freckles and

rough hands. Same runners legs, 

we both just want to run and run.

Different passions, different generations,

different days seen and memories had.

We both feel, 

we feel with so much in us.

Please don't give up anymore,

you gave up on your blood,

don't give up on your child.

I would run to you,

if I knew you were there.

There in the dark,

there to hold my hand,

to drive me away,

to shift my tears and thoughts.

What haunts me doesn't control me.

There is our difference.

I would have run, with my long runners legs.

But I know you're not there to watch,

to see me walk and run and fly.

kde domov muj

I zipped up duffle bags, taped down cardboard boxes,

exhaled my old life and moved into a new one.

Where is my home.

Past dinner. Past the sun. Bitten down nails and 

smell of sleep and sweetened tea.

Everyone is gone, back to their families, 

back to being enveloped by perfect memories

and old traditions. 

I lay in bed, wondering why I'm not going out.

Not greeting my parents. Not seeing old faces.

Realized, it doesn't take a bottle of bad decisions

and an uncomfortable family.

to make my night meaningful.

I am alive.

I am in tune with myself, utterly and blissfully alone.

My night is just as memorable when I fill pages with pictures

and words... creating beautiful things and imagining impossibilites.

Never will I feel shame for the amount of love I have in myself.

My heart speaks to me and my soul holds me tight.

I think about my life on two occasions: day and night.

Respect for days, breaths, and never ending downpour of love.

My life is as beautiful as the leaves falling, the snow melting,

the birds singing, and the sun warming my bones.

My life ended in June and melted into the concrete, floated

in a lake, danced in the wind and was strong enough 

to come back home to my body to start all over.

I'm not afraid.

But where is my home?

How many miles, how many boxes..

Kde domov muj.