i will bloom
in your hands
if you let me.

tables turn and
chair legs shuffle
across the floor
duck, duck,
brooke and
I fly, boy
do I fly.

You asked me what
to paint and I said
your soul. You
drew a long
black vine
with a
lotus
at the
end

dim car, orange shadows
the radio is fuzzy but we
still sing the words, and the
telephone wires are licorice
strings against the moon.
the 7-eleven is a lime in the
distance, a buzzing machine
over aisles of bugles and salted
pretzels basking beneath the
heated lamps. Occasionally
I can feel a road-trip in my
bones filled with endless
nights of my bare feet
on the cool dashboard
curling against the
pane, steady breath
steady breath, and
at least someone
beside me.

he sat in his
room and thought
of her he dreamed
of her he wondered
why she
couldn't
just break
a couple
rules

but why would you want to break the things that mean the most to me?

I see you in every drunk
passerby, every pair of
grey jeans, every wisp
of smoke, every pair of
arms drawn on and I
worry that could be
you but I know I
shouldn't because
people will do what
people do,
even people
you love.

I once saw a photo
entitled

find someone
whose demons
are compatible
with yours,

and I thought to
myself, you never
have to live with
the bad things
if you work
them out.

I am scared of
what I may see
on wrists or legs
or shoulders, the
thought makes
my heart ache

There was a tube
of chapstick in the
lapel of his jacket
and i wondered
silently if it
might be
the same
as a kiss.

And furthermore, why do
I have to be so mean? why
do I have to be so selfish? why
do I have to say such awful
things? I really am horrible
and not even the worst
person deserves my
company.

Your name is scribbled
on the back of everything
every paper, every painting
every picture, inside the tins
and under caps, in books
and posters, why could
you not love me the
way I wanted you
to? why did you
have to become
the very thing
I cannot
stand? why
can't I just
let go of
someone
that did
not care
for me
at
all?

i believe that you
loved me, the way
you sighed the last
time we kissed, how
i wish I had kissed
you longer.

I once wrote something in his
diary for my birthday, but I
actually read a page or two
of his life. A particular story
in which he wrote, all I
want to do is wake up
and make her breakfast,
that is my dream and at
the time all I could do was
smile. I wish I had written
more, but don't we all?

Yes, That's where you
were, across a field against
a window, a bare chest with
an ungodly blue arm stretched
up your right shoulder, laying
untruthful fingers on your chest
and the light fell against your face
in blue shadows that lit when
lightening struck. I backed away
slowly because you were only a

predator.

I have never changed
willingly for anyone,
(not that I wouldn't, if
the right person came
along) and I've never
asked anyone to change
for me, they usually just
do. Each time I am filled
with hope--what if he is
the one? I am continually
let down. As a reminder,
those who say they will
change for you, never
really want to. of course
they would prefer if you just
acted like them. Because that
is so much easier.

perhaps my feet will
have another chance
to lie by a third in the
dim lit room and maybe
just maybe, oh god,

maybe

I will be able to bare
my spirit again and
they will know to
handle it carefully.

You made your
decision and that
deal never included
me.

my Christianity was imperfect
and he hated me for not being
willing to break from it.
but i'm not sorry
that I love
God.

to be honest I am
sorry I ever shared
my soul with those
who never wanted
it in the first place.

I wonder if at some point
he will say
no, she was the worst thing
that ever happened to me.

He lived a lie while
he was with me, It
started when I ended
up in the ER after we
saw that horror movie
and he could no longer
be his true self, the last
bit was gone and he
tried a little too hard
to be what I wanted.
In the end, that drove
him away and now
he's living the life he
wants.

it's understandable
that I have none of
my own memories,
they are all shared,
but I will make new
ones, I will make
new ones.

if it is true that some
get worse before they
get better, then I hope
God finds you in
between and
offers you
grace just
to see.

help me stay strong
and carry on, close
the door behind me.

a while back you
sent me a song by
The Avett Brothers
and oh, Chris, how
I tried to take you
in. I tried to take
you in. I tried to
take you in.

once you wrote me a letter on your
typewriter with a quote from the little
prince (which took me only an hour
to read)

because it is she that I have listened
to when she grumbled, or boasted or
even sometimes when she said nothing.
she is my rose.

perhaps then, I was thankful for all the
times when I was angry, naive or
mean in which you only smiled and
tried to hold me. Maybe we really
did love each other.

I am painfully grateful, if that is
even possible.

so
what
now
god?

i should not regret
sharing such special
parts of me, with someone
so i won't. But I admit to
feeling as if they were
rejected in the worst
way. And of all the
things said to them
I love you, was the
straw that broke the
camel's back.

I told him
my chest burns
because I was around
Brittany who smokes a lot
my chest burns and I can't
breathe, *I told him that
but then I wondered, is
that what it felt like?
is that what they like?
to feel as if they're
dieing?

it makes it harder to forgive
when the person apologizing
isn't sincere.

you burn bridges but
how do you build the
ones out on your own?
I am not going to be
here forever am I?

He says they're weaknesses
the reasons, I mean. The reasons
why he couldn't say anything, when
they called me a *****. When they called
me crazy and awful. I desperately try to
process those weaknesses, because there
have definitely been times where I could
not say anything either. Yes, I was
silent in the presence of my adversaries.
And he watched me take the blows
he lent an open ear to their
curses and listened
without a word. Without a word
he took none for the team and walked
from the field. So I rattle the fence and blow
from the sidelines, I tell him
You really don't know this kind of loneliness
do you? Because it's been this way since I was
little, since before lunch tables, since before nap
time. I say,
You really don't know this kind of loneliness
but I'm beginning to wonder if no one does
because everyone has their own.

truly, i am tired
of telling people
*you don't understand

i have seen people lose
their innocence, I have
seen them tie their feet
with vine and swallow
rocks with smiles on
their faces.

the parts in me
they click and
surge, tick like
clocks and twist
like giant stone
cogs

So,
yes, I have waited
for you for so long.
But I will continue
to love you fiercely
just as I did before
i knew your face.

Those things used to
set me apart, now to
set me alone. I know
it's worth it to be safe
but God, I'd really love
some company.

it will not last
forever, but I
am hopeful.

he's only done
it a few times
where he holds
me in his arms,
tight like my
mother's womb
must of been.
how would he
know? But he
just does.

he just does.

my father smells
like radishes and
moist soil after a
good rain, a hint
of dewy tulip, or
maybe rose.

in the past
i've thought
I was doing
people favors.
as it turns out
I was giving
them open
access to
scald
me.

stand fast, sink not
never of your own
strength, never by
your own legs,
always on His
shoulders.

when i was seventeen
after you kissed me you
asked if I wanted ramen.
In those days you were
always cooking for me
and it makes me wonder
if I am no longer young
anymore. I desperately
wish to relive that at
least once.

at least once.

There's still so
much I have
to talk about