And young girls walk in groups
I stand against the bathroom wall
It's so strange feeling older
As your surroundings grow younger.
I've stopped being attached to things
People stay near me
But their minds can't bear me.

And friends in Okemos are the trickiest thing
You're either stuck with ones so truthful it's smarting
Or the ones two-faced to where your stomach feels cold.
I guess right now I'll protect myself with stanzas.

Why should I trust anyone besides myself anyways?
I gave my life to someone
That hurt me so deeply
I felt a rage unprecedented to date.
It doesn't really matter anymore
He's still making the same idiotic face in every picture
And I'm changing.

Change isn't bad
It's only bad when you outgrow your hometown
One more year here
I'm growing too fast the walls keep shrinking
Okemos why aren't you growing with me?
Why must I endure your simplistic suburban streets
When I am meant for those lights
Lights in dorms hanging in girls' rooms
When I pass by campus?

I'm stuck against this wall
I'm stuck with truthfully two-faced girls
And boys who sold their hearts and minds for sanity
Sanity is useless
Well, maybe not in Okemos
But I have a feeling it's useless everywhere else.

Silence At The End Of The Serenade

I never understood the resentment

Between past lovers

Until I felt it myself.

It doesn’t matter how many “great times” we had

Because memories can’t dissolve the present.

Memories don’t change the fact

That I stared at my hip bones in the mirror for an hour

Because I lost 7 pounds

When the loss made me too sick to eat

The fact the I screamed

And I screamed

I lay on my carpet screaming

When you pulled out of my driveway for the last time

And I will never forget

The split second where I lost the will to live.

I don’t care about the memories

Memories are in the past

Your betrayal is in the present.

The “good times” don’t matter

Because it’s 11:56 PM

3 and a half weeks after you left

And I’m up writing poems to clear my head

Because I can’t stand one more night falling asleep furious

I can’t stand waking up one more morning

Believing it was all a bad dream

And that you’re asleep on the other side of the bed.

The hardest part was my trust

I trusted you when you said no matter how dark it all felt

You wouldn’t leave me

At least you kept one promise;

“I won’t leave you when you need me most.”

You didn’t

And I’m ok

But after a year of having someone to hold

Having someone make me their first priority

Someone that kissed every scar

I am suddenly left unplugged.

There is a wire

Whether from my head or my heart I’m not sure

But it is dangling

And crackling with electricity.

I don’t need you to plug into

I really don’t

But Jesus Christ,

I need something.

Hello Lovey Readers!

Exciting news! I’ve been published in this month’s edition of FIVE Poetry Magazine! If anyone’s interested, it’s Vol. 2 No. 6, and can be purchased at: http://www.fictionmagazines.com/shop/five-issues/five-poetry-vol-02-no-06/

This is my first publication under my real name, Celeste, and my first paid publication. Thanks to all of my followers for your support!


The Best of Us Can Find Happiness in Misery

My personal weight

My little ex,

Remember when I said I hate that word?

I was wrong

I hate the sound of your name more.

You never sang me a serenade,

You blooded my ears with your screams.

I blamed the world for drowning me,

Grasping to you for support,

You kept me afloat, I thought

You didn’t.

You weighed me down

Drowned me

Your insecurities disguised as mine

Talking down to me as if I were a child,

I just stood there and took it.

Let you force your opinions down my throat

You made me believe it was my fault:

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” you said

“Keep making me feel like this and I’ll leave,” you threatened.

How was I so blind to your constant shelling of my feelings?

You’re a nuclear warhead

Full of anxiety

Just waiting for your next victim

So you can explode on your scapegoat.

You’re so low

I can’t believe I let you drag me down

So I’m on my way back up,

But before I go I’ll leave you with this:

I’m better off without you

You’ll be so sorry someday

And most of all, YOU NEVER DESERVED ME.

Hold Your Ground


That’s the word, isn’t it?

But I’ve got nothin’ to lose

Nothin’ to prove.

Good things come to those who wait, right?

If you love something let it go, right?

This isn’t the waiting generation anymore,

We’re connected through networks

We speed up with every word

The world turns a little faster every day.

I’ve no time for waiting

That’s what conjunctions and abbreviations are for.

I’m treating Monday mornings like Friday nights

And I’m living in the moment

They tell me to give it time

And have patience

But rebellion is all the rage

Content is what comes to those who wait

To be content is to be complacent

And who ever knew the Girl of Change to be complacent?

I’m capitalizing my name now

And putting “Risk” in the middle of it.

Good things come to those who wait

Great things come to those who fight.

We all talk about wisdom

Like it comes from sitting beside a tree


Wisdom comes from battle

Maybe that’s unwise of me to say,

But I won’t know for sure until I try.

It’s death to the girl at the end of the serenade,

What’s born is something better.

“So Why Not?”

“If I die, the sun will come up tomorrow and the moon and stars will still come out at night, so why not?”

Because I am stronger than the heartbreak my ex left me with

Because I am bigger than the shallow drama that insecure girls spit at me

Because I have more intellect than the bitter cold February air

Because my personality is warmer than the August sun

Because I can sing a serenade to myself just as well as he could

Because despite his anagapesis, he cannot hurt me anymore

Because I am more than the names on the list of those who succeeded when I failed

Because I don’t need anyone’s love but my own to complete me

Because I am more compassionate than the cool metal of the train tracks

Because I’ve taken my pocket knife back, and I carry it with dignity

Because I am ten times more important than the moonlight

Because I am strong

Because I can fend for myself

Because I have grown

Because I am confident

I refuse to romanticize the image of my loved ones gathered around a dirt hole where my rotting corpse has been placed.

Because I refuse to give up on them

And I refuse to give up on myself.


I have written 200 poems

And not a single one of them

Is solely about myself.

I was too involved

With the music of others

And yet at the end of the serenade,

I lie alone.

And my late night thoughts

Stopped plunging into tender kisses

And pillow-talk.

For the first time in my life

I am losing my obsession with beautiful people-

 I can feel the shift in my heart.

And cordiform bruises remain

But weeks or months or years from now

My scars will fade

And stop leaving such a bitter taste.

It’s a certain kind of syncopation

I’ve been so lost in staying on expected beats

That I forgot to look in between.

Maybe I’m not a flower

Maybe I won’t grow into something beautiful

But I refuse to be something ordinary.


I hate the word ex.

It sounds like nails on a chalkboard

Permanently scratching out what was once written,

Leaving jagged lines over perfect calligraphy.

It describes streaks of blood

Sharp cuts over the softest skin,

But that can’t be right.

There is no blood for me-

A small cordiform bruise

The rests just above my left breast.

It’s a bruise, if left untouched, that causes me no pain

It formed on a sunny day, on the 1st of July

It’s shape leaves warm memories.

To press it brings a dull thud

Pain that shoots to my heart.

I do not fear it,

It’s the same pain that comes

When you let you hair down after a long day,

A steady headache

But one that brings relief.

How can a single word represent that?

What once was

How it used to be

My past love

But it could not be ex.

There is hatred in ex.

And who could hate summer warmth

On the 1st of July?

In What World Do I Thrive?

So deeply I crave to travel the opaque forest

That thrives in my head.

I hold an entire world in the folds of my mind

But I stay in a single city.

I fear if I aim for confidence in New York City

I shall fall flat in Harlem.

I spent a year in Paris

Until the lights of the Eiffel Tower turned off for good,

The City of Love didn’t look so lovely without them.

Urban sounds and smells call me to Dubai

And I can see a party on the horizon

But drinks and dresses aren’t as appealing as Austria-

To Vienna and to Salzburg

Where I can sit in a quaint little coffee shop

And be with my thoughts or a good book for awhile.

But even the best books come to an end,

And my thoughts still feel incomplete.

I reside in New Orleans

Trumpets and saxophones vibrate without pause.

A feeling that needs no words,

And a feeling words could never describe.

Bitter silence creeps up my neck

I am headed to Moscow

And biting terror

Warns that I may never leave-

And so I have stayed

In the little city in my conscious mind,

It’s my own private island

No countries, states, or borders

And more neutral than Switzerland.

But yet I bleed for Paris

So I close my eyes

And aim for New York City.


Hello lovely readers,

Recently, my time has been cut short do to school and other things, so I’m taking a short break from blogging so I can reorganize. Hopefully I’ll be back in a week or so. Thank you to all of my silent and active readers, every view means so much to me.

Hope to see you all soon!