I love you…

But not everyone understands why.

You see, to me, you have the most gorgeous eyes.

They’re cooler than any guys I’ve ever gazed at.

Sometimes when I stand a foot away from you I wonder if you can see me staring.

Then, ten minutes later, I realize I haven’t moved or looked away once

And once again, I wonder if you can see me.

Sorry if it’s rude…maybe even creepy…

But I can’t help being mesmerized by you.

There’s a spotlight on you at all times

And it highlights the wrinkles in your neck,

The lines on your face,

And the length of your nails.

I wish I could hug you but whenever I get close you snap at me.

It hurts my feelings but I understand that sometimes a love like this is hard to accept.

I talk to you all day long but you will never respond.

However, I know if you did you would have a British accent and a sarcastic tone

And, Esteban, I just love you.

You float so effortlessly through your 50 gallon tank.

You’re so precious when you struggle to get onto your rock

And if you wouldn’t try and bite me whenever I got close

I would place you so perfectly in my hand and warm you up myself.

But with your new tank I can’t even reach over the top.

It limits our love.

Well, maybe not our love…but my love…for you.

Your hard exterior makes people believe you’re a grumpy old man

But what they don’t see is the smirk on your face when you swim through the bubbles your filter makes.

I would play with you all day long,

But the thin glass separates my fingers from your face

And when people find out you’re a turtle, they’ll probably laugh.

But I love you, Esteban.

If I put you in a turtle race I know that you’d come in first place.

You’d put all the other turtles to shame.

I try and protect you from the rude guests who pour beer in your tank,

But lets be honest…

It’s kind of hard to do when…I’m tanked.

And sometimes I do forget to look after you.

I apologize for that.

But I hope you recognize my love for you is true.

I feed you grapes,

And pita chips.

Which may not be good for a turtle but I’ve been told many times the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.

And the internet says that weird shaking thing you do with your claws is considered flirting.

So, I’ll take that as a sign that you just might like me back.

You’ve already exceeded all my expectations of you.

You go above and beyond being amazing,

And I never thought I would be saying this to a turtle.

I pictured something a little different…like…a person.

But I’m not ashamed.

I’m more or less in awe at how quickly you captured my heart.

Esteban, I just love you.Image


Family value

Ive seen a lot of things fall apart
Legs on chairs crippled from the weight of numerous people sitting still with faith that the chair will support them
Cookies cooked for too long or not long enough crumble in the hands of eager mouths watering with anticipation
And I’ve seen hearts break in half when their other half decides to leave them
The harsh reality is things fall apart
Houses deteriorate with years of people coming and going
Light bulbs burn out
Crayons break in half when the gentle fists of a first grader tries to write their name on their own paper
You see, I’ve seen a lot of things come to an end
Like boyfriends
Like favorite songs
Like vacations
But I’ve never seen their relationship dwindle
My parents have been married for 26 years and not once has divorce been thrown from their lips
They’re seriously in this
I want to say its true love
But really it’s just the best example a girl can get of how every relationship should be
They’ve given me heart and determination
Through their relations they’ve kept a family strong
It’s a lot of work to keep things from falling apart
My family never lacked togetherness
Always flooded with understanding and explanation
My mom wanted us to figure it out on our own
My dad wanted to make our life easy
And in between both of them was their love that they showered us with daily
It’s impossible to not be thankful
And I’m not saying they never fight
But what shows a persons character is how they come to a resolution
Not how many words they can form into opinions
Screaming matches never work
They work harder than anyone I know to make this family grow
But they wouldn’t see it that way
They see a life with their best friend
Dinner with their favorite
And happiness with someone else’s joy
I’ve seen things fall apart
Since the time I was a little kid I’ve seen things being broken
But I could count on my family to never crack
I thank my mother and father for that

Je Phree Willy.

i’ve never actually met him

talked to him a few times; enough to give him a nickname

without every hearing the words he forms into random questions fly from his mouth

it’s all because of technology

and technically, people wouldn’t consider us friends

but i would

i don’t have a single picture with him

but i have quite a few of him

randoms he’s sent me over time

like the one of him in ram’s horn

or the one of him and his friend

or, my personal favorite, the one of his ass

for reasons i still ponder over, i slid my screen to receive a plump bottom picture

bare butt

naked butt

nice butt

we’ve never hung out in person but things have gotten personal

i’m a west coast tupac chicka

and his west coast biggie lovin’ heart excepts that

he’s never been one to judge

says some of the weirdest stuff i’ve ever heard but i appreciate it

grunge never looked so spiffy on anyone

he’s different

but i appreciate it


a perfectly good cookie;

left on the bottom oven rack a little too long.

it’s not his fault.

burnt from someone else’s mind wandering away,

not paying attention,


he never asked to leave cookie dough form.

he was perfectly happy being eaten bit by bit by innocent fingers that couldn’t wait the 12 minutes it took him to be cooked.

all he wanted was to be delicious.

now he has people turning him over, 

refusing to take a bite,

scared that the black on his bottom side would override the powerful taste of the sweet white chocolate chips in his center.

he’s scarred,

marked by the heat he didn’t choose to sunbathe in.

it was something out of his control,

something that many cookies before have had to encounter.

people always pick and choose.

he’s the one that’s never going to get chosen,

the one everyone picks up,

and puts back down.

no one wants to taste him and with his brothers by his side they sit.

they wait on the plate next to the “good batch” everyone seems to admire.

“They’re so good,” they say.

“Yeah, but these ones are a little burnt,” pointing out the darkness,

comparing them to their distant cousins who, to the people, have it better off.

but when someone picks up the “good batch” they crumble and crack.

their bond is not strong enough to keep them together,

unlike their blackened brothers who refuse to bend for anyone.

weed me

when i grow up i want to have a garden full of weeds

that’s right

fuck lilies and sunflowers

i don’t want tomato plants or tulips

i want dandelions

because the hair on a dandelions head gets gray with time just like an old person

and old people are amazing

i want a garden full of weeds

and i’m naming each of them “flower”

because who says they can’t be labeled beautiful too?

did you know pineapple weeds have round yellow buds?

and the virginia pepper weed blossoms with tiny white flowers

wild carrot weeds look like snow flakes

and i’ve never liked winter but that doesn’t mean i don’t think snow is pretty

who am i to discriminate?

why would i dig up something because someone labeled it with ugly

i’m not flower

nobody is picking me anytime soon

so label me a weed

it doesn’t mean i won’t grow where i want to

it just means i have to be that much stronger to survive

pretty can only get you so far

in my opinion, a bull thistle is onto something

because they have pretty pink flowers that sit on top a ball of spikes as if to say “good luck capturing my pretty”

you see, i want a garden full of weeds

like velvetleaf

because velvetleaf grows up to eight feet tall and they’re covered in fuzz that feels like velvet

i want my garden to be fuzzy

so i can run through it

i can’t run through roses

because under their beauty are hideous thorns and i think bull thistles would beat a rose in a fight

because it’s a lot harder to wear your ugly on your sleeve

only cowards try to hide their flaws

the cause

the day she told me her treatment was finally over i stared blankly at the computer screen

as she walked away with her head down i was too selfish to notice the trail on her cheek that a tear left behind

my father told me i made my mother cry that day

i was happy her for but i didn’t know how to show it

i was thrilled but the excitement got lost somewhere between my brain and my mouth

i’ve never been good at showing my emotions

i don’t wear them on my sleeves

i hide them in my eyes

and if i had just turned around she would have seen all the lost hope disappear behind my retinas

she would have seen the hurt that was now over

she would have seen a smile stretching across my pupils

but i didn’t turn around

since the year i was born 11 million new cancer cases have been diagnosed

five million of those ended in death

and the doctors say it runs in my family

as if to say

good luck with livin’

it’s already taken my grandma, my grandpa, aunt, great aunt, and great uncle

but my mom refused to lose to a disease

it’s been seven years since she was diagnosed

and five since she’s been in complete remission

but that doesn’t stop me from wishin she never had it

from wishin i could take back the pain

from wishin i was her support when she needed it most because God knows she’s always been the first to support me

she handled it well

no complaints about the shots, radiation, or chemo

the endless doctors appointments didn’t seem to phase her

and the loss of her eyebrows, fingernails, and hair didn’t make her stop believing in her beauty

i was the one who gave her a buzz cut when her hair started to fall from her head like ash

and i was completely numb

i couldn’t feel a thing except the hair clippers in my hand vibrating as if they were trying to wake me up

but i didn’t want to acknowledge what was happening because that meant it was real

i turned my eyes from it all as if it would make me not feel

i still feel the numbness sometimes

i didn’t mean to betray her trust

and i wish i could go back and replace my blank stares with hugs

but for a whole year i could barely look her in the eyes without dying inside while praying that dying is not going to be how this ends

this is not going to end in tears

and i feared for the worst

while trying to hope for the best

and i will live the rest of my life with that regret on my chest from not being able to hug her

to hold her tight when she was awake in the middle of the night with the fright of getting sicker

i had seen what cancer could cause

and i realize i was the cause of a lot of paint that day

the day when she wanted to jump for joy was the same day i made her happiness hop from her face

i want her to know i was happy for her

so i’m rolling down my sleeves

and that only leaves the emotion in my eyes for her to see


i could say i’ve been counting the minutes.

i could say i’ve thought about you a hundred times

but in reality i would go crazy trying to keep count of all the times my mind wanders to your face.

i would say cliche, romantic things if that’s what you wanted

but that’s not really who i am.

i tell it like it is.

i miss you.

i’ve been thinking about you.

no numbers, no estimations.

this is not math class.

i try to speak what’s on my mind and sometimes¬†i find myself whispering your name.

even after you’ve left and gone home i can hear your voice,

don’t miss me too much, okay?

like it was something that might not happen.

as soon as your foot rested heavy on the gas,

and your car fell out of my eye’s reach,

i missed you.

i’ve been missing you for two hundred and seventy one minutes

and i know i said i wasn’t counting,

but i’m pretty good at math even though i can’t figure out what a 75 percent discount is as fast as you can.

you’re really fucking good at that.

just like you’re good at making me miss you.

i didn’t lie when i told you,

i’ll try my best.

but sometimes my best doesn’t cut it.

like when i try my best in basketball but still miss every shot.

like when i try my best to run fast but still never come in first.

i’m trying my best not to miss you,

but sometimes,

things like that are out of my control.