montana

not alone, not alone

to the preening commons crusaders and the 600 hall wallflowers
to the chess club and the math club and the rap club that has yet to hold a meeting,
to every pair of lungs that breathe and every pair of hands that shake,
you're not alone. (excuse my cliche)
i see the fragile heart hidden beneath the mesh armor of the jersey you wear
the smothered words trapped behind metal coated teeth
i see the broken smile that not even the brightest shade of drugstore lipstick can conceal
and the pain buried somewhere deep in your binder
i've felt despair in the midst of the battlefield
when the sword just seems too heavy and rust-scented blood threatens sanity
i've been alone in the hallway stampede
each errant elbow and swinging backpack a deathblow,
each giggle shared amongst friends a eulogy
i've had a staring contest with disappointment
and felt the burn
that comes with unfulfilled expectations
you're not alone
i am you
you are me
we're comrades at arms.
and outside of the commons,
beyond the "world class" sign,
away from the teachers and hallways and grading scales and assemblies,
is another battle waiting to be fought.
because they don't write history books about those who let themselves be silenced
and you deserve to be heard.
you deserve to be seen.
you deserve to live.

raise your voice
paint the sky with your dreams
grasp the world in your palms and claim it as your own
because spring's just around the corner
and i can't wait to see what you
what i
what we
will become

you're not alone

so please don't leave me

red balloon

the other day I sprained my ankle

I jumped too high and fell too hard

I should've known the monkey bars were out of my reach

miss robertson gave me a red ballon after class one day

I tied it 'round my wrist but somehow it got free

I chased after it anyway because back then I swore I could fly

the stars sure do shine bright and I thought they were shining just for me

and all I wanted was to feel the universe brush my lined palms

not to be burned by the unforgiving galaxy

people aren't spaceships and I am a tree

better to stay rooted in the soil that is home

I may become gnarled but at least my branches stay tidy

last week I saw that red balloon floating in the unknown

but I kept my feet planted firmly on the ground

the other day I sprained my ankle, after all

up there in the sky is everything I ever wanted

but people aren't spaceships

and I have a sprained ankle

maybe next week, I suppose

hi my name is

my name is sugar and you stop in the middle of the sidewalk to scan me up and down like a piece of meat for purchase and the way you lick your lips kind of reminds me of a snake stalking his prey and your words reverberate in my dreams that night like the echo of a gunshot

my name is why don't you smile and i'm fourteen years old in the city with my friends for the first time and we walk a little faster along with our heartbeats as you follow us for a full block naming one of my friends why so frigid and the other don't be such a bitch 

my name is slut and i guess i deserve this because the skin of my shoulder is showing and i know how irresistible that is but a tank top shouldn't stop you in your tracks and it shouldn't prevent you from focusing in school but you were asking for it is yet another name you tack upon me

my name is damn girl and you laugh like this is a compliment but you can't see the blood in my veins turn to ice and you don't know what it's like to be scared to walk down the street because the saying boys will be boys seems to justify just about anything these days

my name is sexy thing my name is look at me my name is stop frowning and you think you're too good for me? and these are all compliments and according to merriam-webster a compliment is "a polite expression of praise or admiration" so i think you're a bit confused

my name is nice words turned into daggers, flowers turned into weapons, and i've never met a man who met his wife cat-calling on the street. my name is women like you need to go back to the kitchen and every single "compliment" you dole out like tokens at an arcade pollutes the air just a little bit more, my name is princess and if anyone ever spoke to your mother like that, you would strangle him with your bare hands

my name is look at that body and i'm twelve years old again and i'm pedaling my bicycle as fast as i can, away from you, your jeers sneaking into the basket between my handlebars and underneath the soles of my sneakers and at this moment i've never felt so small

so if compliments are supposed to make someone feel good i sure as hell don't know what you're thinking about but as long as your bros are impressed and as long as you're able to shove my name into your back pocket to brag about at the bar that night and as long as you don't see the way we run all the way home and sleep with the lights on and padlock the door because your words chipped away who we are

as long as you have the upper hand

my name is whatever you want it to be