Somehow, I pull the words out of my mouth like the colorful scarves inside the sleeve of an amateur magician
And we are both trying so hard
To save our best magic trick to use on ourselves
So that everyone can stop asking so much of us

Once, before the people moved in,
before they took my brothers
and sisters
and cousins
and friends,
I saw the sun.
I grew up
and I grew strong,
trying to reach the sky.
I meant to make
the world beautiful,
but I was robbed

As the wind blows a harsh breeze,
And the trees start to sway on their knees,
Within the surface of the fleeting river,
I see myself sitting in the harsh weather,
As a boy, slouched down in the freeze.

Different: not the same as another.
My “friends” and I, we’re different from each other.
They are cool; I am not.
I am lame; they are hot.
Even when they’re wrong, people think they’re right.
They like the day; I like the night.

On a journey,
Without reasons,
Conforming to the changing seasons,
Flowing like a great song,
Thoughts of things grow ever long,
Mountains passing,
Some dreams crashing,
While others come to birth.

I look at them around me
Those who with my choices disagree
My eyes drop
They’re staring
Quickly judging what they see.

Alone am I to every degree
I never use the pronoun “we”
I’m different
Too different
Locked out without a key,

I’m here,
But
No one sees me.
I walk through,
Invisible
Like the truth
Behind the mirror.
For me,
They have blind eyes
Of icy blue.
To get in
I jump the fence.
The spotlight hits me
Shot
On sight.

On the outside I am a Superhero,
A lively, ambitious girl anyone can count on.
No matter the risk, anguish, or pain it causes me,
I will do anything I can to help others with a smile on my face.
On the inside however is where I console my secret identity.

Being young is hard;
 often feeling all alone.
 Your hair is a mess
 and your face is
breaking out.
 Being young is hard.
You aren’t quite sure of your friends,
 you’re stressed out;
 don’t know if you’re being “cool”.

Hallo there boy
You're just a child
Play on the fluffy cloud
In the air.
Think of nothing.

Until you fall
Fall a man
Live a man
Die a man

The Ponderosa Pines hunched ponderously,
Their convoluted gestures frozen
With dry, rasping limbs in stages of vexation
And narrow forearms lifted high
In savored moments of exalted epiphany.
My brother and I climbed the questions
They grew,

I found myself
staring out of my bedroom
window,
my eyes followed the footsteps
of the strangers walking below me.