The silence in this world is ringing
ringing like the unanswered phones left on the line
because no one is home to hear
the shrill call of an unanswered voice just begging,
begging for one more shot at whatever sordid mess they’ve left behind
because the future is ahead and it’s scaring them.

Please, just let me come home.
Home was never safe, it was never warm,
it was just a place for childhood embers burnt fast by the age of 12, no, 11, no, 10,
but then I still beg to go back because life’s ahead, mom,
And they’re calling my name but I cover my eyes
because all I hear is the shrill call of an unanswered voice
begging me to amount to all that I’m worth,
to take strides on horizons I can hardly fathom,
because out there, they’re looking for a shadow to their sunset.
A step away, a reach, a grasp,
but I let it fall from my hands and crash -
graceless, inelegant, twisted, metamorphosed into a nightmare I’ll never catch.
Because these walls are a sanctuary
where the hands that cover my eyes and
the hands that cover my ears protect me
from the world’s volatility,
and the one thing I grasp:
invincibility
in the highest degree.

So fire your bullets, because they’ll only ricochet,
keep away
no way
no wait,
this isn’t invincibility,
just conciliatory me
bending, twisting, metamorphosed into
        a grotesque shape
        a nightmare I’ll become
When someday there’s a ringing in my head
of an unanswered phone left on the line.
I don’t want to hear it;
the shrill call of an unanswered voice just begging,
begging for one more shot at the broken pieces,
this puzzle strewn across the floor
like it’s always been there
just never seen before,
Because you only see the flash after you hear the bang
and it’s all over.
It’s too late.
The phone keeps ringing.

We just walk over dandelion petals
Worn into the ground by time and repetition and the
Step
Step
Step
Of my feet.
I could walk off the ends of the earth before I ever stop thinking about you,
Trying to decide what's true and what else I could do
But walk between the falling raindrops,
Collecting them on my face, and keep walking
And walking
And walking
Trying to find my place because it always seems to change
And I could never put my finger down, could never slow this pace
So I'll keep on going until the horizon comes

Paint me a scene
with fairy lights instead of memories,
where shadows were warm when we were cold
and the rain was just dewdrops on melodies

i want to leave this life and lose myself
in these poems that tell my story better than i ever could.
i want to end this life and
sprinkle the ashes between the pages,
put them in the paper and have those words
printed on my bones.

i never want to lose these feelings.
out there it’s cold,
and even the people you love can
leave scars behind.
inside this cracked spine
my fears are laid bare;
everything i hate about myself,
everything i hide about myself.
if i could never tell the truth,
breathe these poems and let them say it for me,
i would be happy


                                                         ­                              to no longer exist.

death is a part of nature.
we’re born.
we live.
we carve sad stories into our arms,
and we die.

it’s written in the plan now.
wake up.
eat breakfast.
commute.
contemplate suicide.
work.
commute.
eat dinner.
contemplate suicide.
take a shower.
take a shower.
take a shower.
take a shower.
can i drown in the shower?
cover ears.
put head under water.
sit.
shiver.
contemplate suicide.
choke.
sputter.
hyperventilate.
contemplate suicide.
breathe.
keep breathing.
don’t breathe out.
hit the wall until your knuckles are bruised.
stand.
breathe.
shiver.
wipe nose.
shut off water.
sleep.
face it all again tomorrow.
survive.

i wait and wait but you never show
my heart is ice
my thoughts are snow

Of course I love you.
How could I not?
No one has ever cared
as deeply as you,
Held me
as tightly as you,
Made me feel
as strongly as you.

First loves can be complicated,
because how do you know?
I was always scared of being the girl who said
I love you out of the blue,
two weeks into dating because
maybe she doesn’t understand what love really is.

I smile at every text you send me,
but that’s not love.
My heart skips a beat every time I see you,
but that’s not love.
I close my eyes every time you laugh,
        trying to memorize that sound.
But that’s not love.

No.
Love is sitting on bathroom floors
trying to remember how to breathe
while you wipe away my tears and hold my water bottle to my lips.
Love is the peace I feel when you hug me
and my cheek is pressed against your chest
and for that single moment all of the voices in my head go quiet.
Love is the small details remembered,
the red flags caught,
like when you bring me a sandwich wrapped in foil
because I forgot to eat and I mentioned it was my favorite once before.
Love is the contentment of
lying in your arms, watching movies,
talking,
listening as your breathing evens out.
Love is the perfect comfort of falling asleep tangled up with you.
Love is no longer looking for an escape,
because the world has finally showed me its beauty.

Curious that its beauty is named after you.
It has a messy apartment and shows up late to work.
Its bones crack and moan beneath shea-butter skin,
but it refuses to get them looked at
because, really, it’s fine.
(pop).
Beauty forgets to eat more often than not,
sometimes for days at a time,
and it really ****** me off.
It speeds and makes questionable jokes,
but it always has a comeback and a laugh to share.
Beauty takes the world’s ugliness in its stride,
but is not afraid of honesty.
It snores, but it won’t steal the covers.
Curious, that it is named after you.

So, here we are.
This time my three words are not “I am sorry.”
I am not sorry that I love you.
I am not sorry that I fell headfirst,
way too fast,
because god ****** how could they have made someone as perfect as you.
I am sorry if I overwhelmed you,
but I am not sorry that I said what I said,
and I do not take it back.

I don’t expect you to say it back,
Because that’s not what love’s about.
I am sharing my love for you,
Not expecting yours for me.
I’ve come close to saying it so many times,
Offhanded, like it was perfectly normal.
And I remember the exact moment when I realized,
With your kiss on my forehead and my arm draped over you,
That saying “I’m fond of you too” was an understatement.
I love you.
I fell asleep that night and had a dream that I said it.
And when I woke up the next day,
As I drove the two hours back to my house,
I realized that it was true.
I was terrified,
But I realized that I love you.