i start with trying to hide because your voice finds mine your voice seeks mine
your eyes see right through the barriers ive built and ive rushed to protect
the heart i dont really care about
i love you like hot pine needles and warm water
like deep breathing like deep laughing
and how my fingernail polish always chips moments after its dry
because its imperfect but its expected and
there is calm in consistency even if its a mess
and i love you like fireflies in jars
the first very warm day of spring, the first very cool day of fall
the first promise of snow
i dont care for change unless its the circle of seasons or finding you to hold instead
of just myself

i love you like shards of glass in my throat because i break beautiful things
like a paper cut and the feeling of not being able to stop crying
like home sometimes like falling on ice
i cant describe you to the people that i meet
i love you like rain like an inconvenience to some like the most
god damn beautiful thing ive ever been given in my life
and its sharp and smooth a knife in my back a rock in my hand
a broken window and a wish i find my favorite things all in list
and theres your name
my handwriting doesnt look the same as it curves around your letters
and my chipped fingernail polish looks beautiful and
its sort of like melting and building tearing down recreating
full of action full of life
full of something tired of hiding
sometimes i love you like i cant breathe sometimes its more like i cant stop talking
and at the center of the web is something shiny something different
something platinum not gold something steel and shiny and lasting


Another Long List of Apologies

the litany of the good and bad things ive done is short depending on how much you care
about the small things and the small people and the little flowers
that dont really feel like re-appearing in the Spring just to be trampled on
but they show up anyway because thats what theyve been made to do

and i feel the list of things ive done is not catching up to the things ive felt
and im sorry
im sorry that ive become so hard that not even the word bitch
cuts me although i can distinctly remember the hot tears on my face
moments after the syllable was directed at me for the first time

im sorry that i love brokenly and unevenly
that things that make me happy also make me unbearably nostalgic and
slightly terrified
like how i hate the dark but i cant sleep with lights on
i need my fears to survive and i need my fears in order to stand
in front of anyone and admit that i feel even a shred of anything

im sorry that i break things other than people too
pencils, coffee mugs, remote controls
i lose things too which is sort of like breaking them
rendering things void and useless
ripping things to shreds
pieces of paper with my handwriting
pieces of paper with your handwriting
receipts and notecards i cant stand myself sometimes

but it doesnt mean i will rip the skin from my body
and pretend to be someone new

im sorry that im hard to get to
like a prison cell or a celebrity you can glamorize what i am or
want to spit on it i dont really care
i know that ive built false walls and trap doors and window panes painted shut
around my thoughts and my beliefs and i want to say my heart is ice cold
but i have a pulse and my body works just fine
most of the time

im sorry that i wont give you the key to these trap doors
that showing the burn marks inside my mouth is as close as i can get right now
to showing you the fire that sometimes rages within me
that things havent always been easy
that things havent always been bad
i want you to be part of this just
not now

im sorry that all i have is wine stained teeth and shitty poetry
that i laugh at bad jokes and watch even worse movies
im sorry that this is precisely the second time ive written the list
of all the things i shouldnt be saying out loud but wont
i cant stand myself sometimes
but im still defiantly walking like i have places to be and people
who would like to see me there
and im not sorry
for not giving up

I (Really Don’t) Miss You

indelible the face of the setting sun
and really
fancy chocolate that you cant afford but steal
from even fancier hotels the lobby that you wait in
when youre trying to get warm before you
get to wherever you are going
you feel the same but you tell yourself that
you feel different because here is here moments ago you
wanted to be and werent

i dont miss you today tonight tomorrow
i never have and never will
i never miss your warm hands on my cold skin
if i ever find myself missing you i take a deep breath and
pretend that it never happened because simply
it never did

fanciful like the freshest bread on the table
wine glasses half full music on
that no one is listening to because the conversation is
too overwhelming
the greatest hug of words
companionship that you had only dreamed of one time
the only dream you had ever remembered
the reason that you believed all dreams have meanings

no dreams have meaning unless you are a dreamer
im not because i dream of dark tunnels
and piles of candy bars
of getting lost or fat
of crying into the arms of the people that have hurt me
and i scream for you which makes no sense
like i said
ive never missed you once


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

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


there is a hollowness
where once words wound themselves into
tight circular vines without meaning
or intent and
there once was a
girl who sat behind a pile of papers and didnt cry
for the dying trees
but cried for her dying soul
and there once were photographs that mattered
faces with fading smiles
faces with caught of guard genuinely happy in the moment not directed at a lens
sort of expressions
that we fall in love with
there once was love

the past blinded us and burned our skin
and gave us scars with embarrassing stories of tripping over ourselves
in the process of tripping into what we call adulthood
we are penniless and scared
as we reveal our bodies and our souls and
hope there is free food to satisfy our hungry stomachs
we try to heal our bodies on ramen and tea
but we cannot heal our aching hearts
who long to be in this in between space
and also to grow up faster

there were tired searching hands
that held textbooks and overpriced cups of coffee
that needed to find each other but instead
found the unfulfilling touch of someone who
doesnt care
we are not searching for love
in spaces reserved for romance tales and story book endings
we are not searching for love
at all

our hearts beat differently to the same drummed out pattern
of the society we have created
passed on to those around us
the same that has made us laugh and cry
and kick ourselves as we lay screaming on the ground
as we feel pain course through our bodies
coining the phrase life isnt fair
to justify the magnitude of our sorrows

they have said my heart only hurts because a man
child doesnt love me in the ways he should
what if my heart hurts in spite of his love (there is no love)

what if my heart hurts because there are people dying
who should be alive
and there are people bullied
who should be happy and thriving
because uniqueness should not be diminished to conformity
because shining in a different light is still shining
although we call it stupid

our loves
our lives our existence is fruitless and vain
and beautiful beyond compare
i want to rip my heart out of my chest
and throw it away
i want to cradle own heart and tell it
everything will be okay if it keeps marching on
i want to
tell myself that i am beautiful
i want to scream that he is perfect and stupid and
i want to scream for my life to be over
and to never stop

im where i belong and everywhere i shouldnt be

Middle of the sentence

and leaving him is like ripping off a band aid
every. single. time.
because our moments are uncertain and fleeting
explanations are are not necessary in the moment
and afterwards i will have buried myself
six feet under the ability to ask and care and inquire
and desire something more for myself

all we have is fleeting

the movie flashes behind my eyelids and he is fast asleep
my hand is numb in his and i dare not move because
the image will be shattered and neither of us
would put it back together
i am a polaroid picture
faded and useless
archaic and some sort of momento of past smiles
past moments past memories
that we decided would make
perfect pictures

he is glass and heat and the sunset
and i dare not ask any questions
just let him inhale the smell of my shampoo and exhale
that he is so
so happy
that i am here
and later

later everything will be more permanent
it will be empty
resoundingly meaningless

later i will walk home in high heels
that cut my feet
i will wrap my hands tighter around my body
i will think of the moment i woke up


and shattered the moment to pursue my own bed
my own warmth and my own blankets
and the sun hit his face perfectly
but i didnt wake him
i ripped off the bandaid

nothing is permanent

and i walked the street alone
thinking of the thousand places i could be
how happy i have to be that i am

everything we have is fleeting