Try

Wherever you are, be all there.

Genuine

I like it
when you come up and hug me.
I like feeling like you're my friend
even though it's only been a few weeks since we met.
I like feeling like you care.

Dress

I feel pretty
when I'm wearing red high heels.
Don't you?

Wish

HELP.

Scream.

Urleen

"I wish I could find a guy who,
when he went to kiss me good night,
would take the toothpick
out of his mouth."
Ow.

Two poems

being alive
Breathing,
loving,
dying.
Pain,
hurt,
agony.
Death.
Despair.
Greasy stains on table clothing.
Bloody splashes stipple whitish sheet.
Darkness scratches me with talons fierce
and I relish red pulsing and flowing and beating.
Dance.
Death.
Eyes open
then widely shut.

new
This sliver of a moon
shines brightly from its cradle.
Tomorrow, it will be new
and it will be gone,
and the sky will be dark.
Maybe one of these days
it will forget to come back.

Ideal

Remember last year,
when I didn't make callbacks?
I went to dance in the movement studio
and put on Hairspray
and fell down.

Three tendons torn
and three chip fractures.

My ankle hurts sometimes, when I'm tired.
I limp on it
and I don't even notice
until someone asks me,
"Hey, are you limping? Is your ankle okay?"
And I look down
and shrug
and say I'm Fine, just tired.

But I would really like to be in a play.

Sign

"NO FOOD OR DRINK IN THE DESIGN LAB"

Clear thumbtacks hold it up in the corners.
Its bottom corners curl out a little,
like it's trying to get away
and escape the emptiness of the white, white wall
that can't help but blend into its white, white paper;
and that white paper is stippled with black, black dust
pinning the paper down to whisper sardonically into its ear,
"Not yet. Not ever. You're going to stay.
HA."

And it knows that if it tries to curl up and away
it won't work
and the dust and the tacks will push it back down again
straining it on that tumultuous trip down the mountain.
The only thing to do would be to start back up the mountain,
towing that boulder with heavy ropes,
to be pushed down again as soon as it reaches the top.

Such is life.

I thought about writing a poem
but then I decided
I'd rather go to sleep.