Irrationality #4

i think i should say ive skipped
meaningless kisses on late nights that always
ended up in me crying because im simply only
good enough in moments
and only good enough for myself in fragments

my story was never pretty

let me say i dont want to write this
its the very first thing that hurts me hands
to type onto this blank screen

i almost skipped you and im not even a little bit sorry

i will think of you in silences
and i will learn to crush my feelings
into finer grains of sand
because i was never really good at being
a glass figurine anyhow

you had honest hands and a broken heart
i had neither but i always pretended we were the same
a secret thread of beauty whispered about
in silences (much prettier than the other kinds of noise)
i was delusional of course
i always am but you
you made me think of starlight in new ways
without ever having talked of the stars

we are friends now or so we say
as i walk away from you faster than i could think
of an excuse to tell you why i need to leave
instead i dont speak i let you revel in the broken silence
and i confuse myself at every turn

i was only good for you in moments and
i cant pretend that i am still okay when you say
you want to meet up at 2 a.m. and i am alone
if you are not here i do
not want you to be


Irrationality #3

in case
i never tell you in person in real life
with shaking hands and tearing eyes
i owe you
one thousand explanations of why i never clung to you
until it was too late

i was losing lots of things when
you found me
i was losing
all my sanity
my energy my hope and faith
(it wasnt dark but it sure felt like it was)
(it didnt last forever but it was a lifetime ago)

and we lost time

precious time i could never get back
because it unraveled
into one drunken fight that i wish i could take back
and months of silence that i needed
silence i need indefinitely

i need you
to know that you were the one thing i believed in

sometimes when i think about you i cant breathe

one time we sat on the floor and i cried so hard i could barely speak
you held my hand
it was pretty cool although i still remember
how ashamed i was at the hot tears running down my stupid face

one time i sat in my car and waited for you
two hours and then told everyone else we had a great time
before we said goodbye

one time i realized i wasnt enough although you never said it
how could i have possibly ever been enough

you the boy who contemplated infinities
and music and football all in the same paragraph
if i think about you for too long
i think you were never real

Irrationality #2

there were lots of things i didnt know about you
like how you enjoyed donning a superhero cape
and pretending like you could save
my day and my life
by your presence i would be fixed

i guess no one told you that i am not a some sort of
material object
and mostly what was broken needed to be that way

i was fragments and anger but
you said i had a “shitty taste in music and movies”
is there a poetic way to say that?
i remember thinking this was what it was like
to come home to a boy stuck
in the 1950’s

sometimes i cringe when i think about you
im sorry that comes off so cold
you never were a “bad person”
perhaps not the person i needed

i never hated you although i hated the way your mother
gave me dirty looks for months
as if the way i “broke your heart” was unforgivable
although it was necessary
and the way your sister pointed jaded looks at my sister
as if either of them
were ever wrapped up in any of this

you loved PDA kisses and i hated the thought of you
almost instantly

i never knew i was your first kiss
im sorry because i know i shattered some ideals of women
maybe you didnt know that you shouldnt have said
“youre not going to school for a real major”
maybe no one ever taught you to validate
person despite their differences

it feels weird
to pretend to talk to you now when youre the
only one who never made an appearance back into my life
except the day after we “broke up”
and you asked if i was okay
i never had the heart to tell you
i was breathing easier than i had been in awhile

i guess this poem is wrong because
apologies are really hard and im not really
sorry for anything
although i should be

Irrationality Number 1

its the only way i can describe the way i was
when he stumbled into my life
i was going to write this poem for him until i realized
i never really knew him
or know him now

all i know is that
fragility that created me was also the thing that broke me

two years and i wondered why i couldnt be better
be enough for him
why radio silence would break up the perfectly average
moments he did deign to kiss my lips
and compliment my average person

before i met him i went to bed at 9
p.m. and i never shouted out anothers name in my haunted dreams
before i met him i was a bundle of insecurities and
he fixed all of them and none of them

i believed in butterflies until they made me so nervous
that i was the fragile girl
losing too much weight
i screamed at myself because no one noticed
and i needed to pull myself up alone
(i wish i had let people notice)
(i wish i had stopped throwing up at 3 a.m. before i forgot how to stop)

i blamed everyone else but myself
i tied knots around my words and sealed them away
how could i be worthy of poetic verses that described someone
that differed so far from reality
how could my words for him cut the truth in half
and disregard all wrong things found in his skeleton

i was sixteen, seventeen, eighteen
i was nineteen before i realized that i didnt need anyone
how could i have let his inconsistency hold my weakened heart
until i learned to make it beat stronger
on my own

my footsteps are waterfalls
his kiss was perfect
until i realized it was poison
im not sorry he happened
i am sorry i did


im really mad because
its midnight and im hungry
i shouldnt have skipped lunch
or dinner
ive eaten too much candy my stomach hurts
there is nothing poetic about that
i have eaten too much sugar because my anxiety loves sugar
and not real calories that my brain loves

im really mad because
i was supposed to be unbreakable
so the warranty said- good for one life
and i feel broken
because the bruises on the insides are much weirder and unexpected
id rather fall and break a bone than to know
the damage of my soul

im really mad because im wasted
im sober but ive wasted hours of my life today staring at screens
and goading myself into working
on the play that still isnt read
the paper that still isnt written
the expectations that are still left unfulfilled
cannot be reached

im mad because i care too much and i dont care
and these tidal waves hit each other at awkward angles
i feel dizzy
i feel sick
i wish i had taken more swimming lessons
i hate that i still am scared of diving
its not a metaphor but hey, if you want it to be go for it

im mad because my tongue tastes sticky sweet
because my life is radio silence
and void of the vicarious things that make the sweetness bearable
my bed is too cold
my body is too
96 degrees Fahrenheit average but i will love someone
someday with the fire that i do not have inside me

im mad because my night is far from over
because i wanted nothing more than to not be alone
because i have carefully plodded my way along but i still
hate the paths ive chosen

im mad because its midnight and it should be different

We are all Imperfect and Worthy

i love you outside of all the things people think
constitute you as perfect
outside of your strength and composure
how you buy into chivalry
the way you listen with your entire heart
i love you with all of your soft edges
your tears
and the way that you regret almost every step you take
even if its in the right direction

i love you in spite of your missteps
the way you listen without speaking i love you
even though i need you in ways you say you have never been able to provide
and i love the way you hate the world for treating us
so unfairly
because it puts me and you in the same
shifting category and i need the hope that we will remain

once upon a time
we poisoned our minds to hate our bodies
to hate my pale skin and my soft edges
the stomach that spills over jeans
the thighs that touch and sing
the imperfection
once upon a time
i poisoned my mind to hate the sound of my own voice
to know i moved awkwardly as if i fit into a different frame
as if i never once

i spill myself onto you and you dont even cringe
i love your strength too
even though it has created you into this giant huggable cliche
who listens with his whole soul
and i love what makes you imperfect and i hope
that you can love me in the same way

Broken Glasses

among whispered words and
hazy nights
you learned my insecurities and you broke me
bruising me in ways that still
in ways that i know i will not recover
i try to breathe easier
but you hold my lungs underwater
maybe you always knew i couldnt swim
although im sure i never told you

the street lights turn off in the morning before
the sun rises and the world
inhales in the darkness
cars drive too fast they honk their horns and stomp on their breaks
we dont understand that the world is weak because
we pretend to be too strong
although we let ourselves cry in the shower
in the secret
in the darkness that the morning promises but never holds on to

i loved you violently
in screaming words that made no sense
and scribbled poems on loose sheets of paper that ended in the garbage
i never gave you the power i held within me
i never showed you the terror that my heart held
when i gave it up

i hated you quietly
with your digs and indecisions and drunken text messages
that always left a bitter taste in my mouth
i hated you in the way you looked at her and the way you looked at me
and how these looks were different
the way they couldnt align were the ways
they cut me

i loved you like holding a broken glass
because i couldnt let it go
even as pieces of you embedded underneath my skin and
made me bleed
i loved you despite the pain
and you looked away because i was an ugly
bleeding mess