Poetry I Love or Things I've Written:

• "If I don't continue this charade in the porcelain of my bathroom, I think I might die. Nights in, nights out as I lay in the bathtub with a broken spigot tapping, my fingernails against the base hoping you're somehow feeling it on your frontal lobe. There is no reason I would think this way, scientific research done on the connection of my rhythmic drumming and your cognitive behaviors, but if I did not have this fallacy of a routine to end the hours. I'm awake, I would have no reason to move. I know I have no gateway to you, and all of our past ties have been severed by the ends of my sharp tongue. I know this all, despite the dramatics of it all. I am less so naive to our actuality, but more so miserably and desperately using the last muscles of my appendages to my love one last time. If I didn't do this I think I might die." - Anonymous

• " I am constantly dreaming of elsewhere like a waterfall emptying itself forever. Perhaps it is true joy, it is a circle waiting to be filled in -- the palette being we aren't able to see in the world." - William Bortz

• "Anybody I've ever met has said I'm loud. That I have a lot to say. I fill in these random silences in conversations, because when it gets too quiet, I have to deal with my own quiet. The quietness in my own mind is deafening. Overthinking every mistake I've made that day, the decisions I've made over the course of my life. 'Was that a good choice?', or 'Were they ever really a good person?' So my own quiet is avoided. I fill it with the endless jabbering of trees, about music, about the stars and the moon and the sun. But then I'm with you, suddenly conversation can ebb and flow and I'm comfortable. I don't have to try as hard to make up for the silence in my own head. And for once, sitting in silence is a genuine option."
-- Me