I stare up at the white ceiling, 

now black with the darkness of a thousand Midnights.

I toss and turn in bed; fallacious truths fill the walls of my Labyrinth 

until they start to crumble, and I’m left

 stranded.

“You’re On Your Own Kid,” 

they say, 

and I believe every single word of that.

~~~

I awaken from slumber that never whisked me off to my dreamland.

A flip of a switch and anxiety floods my mind,

but I have no intentions of holding back the river.

Some say I’ve learned to tolerate it, 

but secretly I wish it could run dry 

for evermore.

~~~

Secretly, 

I wish I could run away to the lakes 

and be free of the world’s iron grip,

sit beside still waters 

and let my tears ricochet off its surface, 

preserving the perfect peace.

I wish I could allow myself to let go of the past,

 but its folklore remains,

 branded by the iron of regret in my brain.

~~~

Impermanence: the gift I’ve started to unbox.

It was the Cruel Summer without sun, 

but Daylight still won.

I am The Archer and the prey, 

the fighter and the Lover.

But beyond these paradoxes I am still ME!, 

the girl who lives, breathes, and speaks poetry.

~~~

And So It Goes… 

I dress myself with Delicate hands; 

never once do I dare glance at my reflection in the mirror.

How strange it is that a pane of glass is the bane of my existence.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, they say,

 but I hold a reputation of being the world’s worst critic since ‘17.

~~~

Now, at 17, the critics of college have taken over my conscience. 

As I shuffle out of my bedroom and creep downstairs, 

the pale moonlight peers through a window.

“All You Had To Do Was Stay,” I think,

 as the thought of warmth from my covers claws at me, 

a sleep-deprived zombie emerging from her disturbed slum—

—a warm thought emerges, 

from a time I was Clean and pure,

my mind replete with its Wildest Dreams,

but it’s forcefully shut down and out 

by the desire to have them fill a Blank Space with my name.

 Sometimes, I wish I could go back to 1989 

when the common app didn’t exist…

~~~

…back when the world entered a State Of Grace

when the Red-iron grip was lifted, 

and the singer I know All Too Well was born…

~~~

…Back to December, I think, 

as I slurp my oatmeal that should’ve stayed in the microwave

 for ten seconds longer.

My mom would have been fourteen; 

fourteen at a time with no cell phones, some computers,

 but mostly letters. 

She still saves many letters of Mine from years ago. 

“Never Grow Up,” they say.

I wait for different kinds of letters now; 

staring at my cell phone and computer for schools to 

Speak Now or forever hold their dispassionate Dear Johns…

~~~

I’m staring at the white ceiling

 as that thought holds me for a second longer; 

now—freed—I can finally Breathe.

That’s When I glance at the clock; 

someone please Tell Me Why time 

decides to move its sneaky little hands so swiftly 

when you just want it all to stop.

Nobody can stop it, though,

 and Don’t You be one to try, I say to my smiling self in the mirror

 as I vigorously brush my teeth. 

I grab the car keys and walk out The Other Side Of The Door 

Fearless, for nobody but myself, 

and that’s enough for me.

~~~

A gust of wind as Cold As You hits my face here, 

on The Outside.

In the driveway, I fling open the car doors,

 toss my backpack in the backseat, put my foot on the brake, 

and hover my index finger over the ignition.

Sometimes a break is necessary to get where you’re going, 

I think, as the engine sputters to life 

and Taylor Swift comes on the radio.

 “Stay Beautiful,” she says,

and I believe every single word of that.