i am relearning to dance in my kitchen
hopping to the beat
swinging and laughing
with and without friends
but often
in the sunlight

for the girl who thought
the sun would never rise again
yes

I dance for her

I scream love me
from the top of my lungs
hoping I don’t run out of breath
and you hear that little
rattle

that I myself
am unsure
what there is left to love
in these bones of mine

it’s that moment
where you look at them across the way
and know

you wouldn’t lay on the train tracks for them
god no.

you’d learn how to sing
to sit in silence
make their favourite meal
and maybe change a bike tire.

I’d wanna live.
The incredibly terrifying, soul-wrenching ordeal, of living with them. for them.

and maybe even because of them.

it’s in that moment
you see all the moments
that aren’t just the last.

I hope
i smell your cologne
and little bit of sweat from hard work

as you carry me through the last finish line

but knowing you

it’ll likely be a scramble against the blockades
yelling at me as I fall
to get up

on hands and knees

to finish one more mile

because you knew I could
push through it all
without you

She laughed
“There you are”
like I was tucked under covers or hiding around the corner
like I didn’t emerge with blood soaked hands
having fought tooth and nail

I found you she squealed
reaching out for me

and god did I drop
with nothing short of relief

Because to come back to her little laugh
and find her effortless grin

I could finally remind her
or maybe it was me
her confidence came
from that little me.

how do you showcase
that it’s not just the success metric
the ache roiling within

It’s that running became safety
a reclamation
a chant
a war cry

Droplets of who I was
bit by bit
Lost in the same few miles

and compressed
through blood
through screams
and loose gravel

stripping seven layers of skin
or maybe just hell

dying to the flame
to the fear
no small deaths for me

to become
nothing
but
I am

safety is not always comfort
and comfort is not always safety

but he was home.

and I was a stop along the way.

she was something
no
is something
to behold
to touch
to make beg and shake and groan
to laugh into a sugar cookie
or four
and whisper the recipe across her bones

she was something
no
she is mine

“I guess I fumbled this didn’t I”

and thank god I knew enough to pause
and take eighty four steps back
because what would’ve had me leaping into a pit
of guilt tipped spears

had me giggling
miles away
because darling you already know the answer

and are hoping
I’ll bite

it’s funny how something
that started barely as flickers
can become enthralling
with a single hello
misspelt
with nerves
and unbridled excitement

sprinting
like the wildfire

well see who gets farther

some will draw lines in the sand
few will chisel out craters
many a line of chalk

and when the rest come
going about their day
They will have soil slipping out of their pockets
And rain following their wake

to pretend like nothing was there, anyways

I fell in love with pink again
the creases at my eyes and
freckles on my cheeks

the way clean smells
and feels against moisturized skin

the second glass of red
and bites of cherries
mixed with gin

I fell in love with all of the curves
and the curls in my hair

I fell in love with breathing
and romanticizing each breath

after feeling like each should be my last

that’s just it?
isn’t it.

the little patter of rain
half eaten sandwich
and awkward angles
Squished between all the I love yous
and miss yous

hoping when you say ‘come round again!’
they get the chance to

I loved you like the stars were inconsequential that night

because nothing in that moment mattered as much
as your exhales declaring your needs against the inhales of my dreams

and now I meditate
amidst the wind

inhaling
and exhaling

while staring at the stars

because god they are stunning.

for I tell you
let me cry for I was made to have love in my heart
and yearning on my sleeves

sometimes it takes pouring gasoline
and walking away

other times

it’s meticulously, painstakingly
removing debris
on your hands and knees

and learning to try again

some kisses and liquor are best left
when left
alone

you loved me for my innocence
my light
my newness

and like looking back on faded pictures
i sit shaking my head
at how little she knew
and that I wish I could bottle her fearless
trust

but god I can’t blame you
for loving a force of nature

because for all of it
you held her as best as you could

with terror in your eyes and trembles in your hands
that she’d leave

because she was too young to read the signs
and so she cries all the way home
to me

flipping through poems
and what I thought love only was

it is in these moments
that I sit
and mourn for little you
and little me
for the great love we were
and could’ve been
but it was like two stars colliding
burning each other up
since they couldn’t coexist by starving themselves just to keep the other
breathing

so in these moments
I sit
and remember how much I loved green eyes
and the way your heart
tangled with mine

during one of these moments

let this be the summer of:

shoulders brushing
blushes + kisses
arts and crafts
skinny dipping
barefoot dancing
sighing with contentedness
calling — and picking up

let this be the summer where he fell in love with me
and I, with who I could be

I miss what I imagined
not what I survived

but god does it make me feel alive
to know I made it through

he looked at me
and spilled out his fears
With a few upper cuts mixed in
and after dodging a few
and catching others

I was left with a trembling lip
and a childlike finger
“why is nothing I do ever good enough for you”

and time slowed
because in the blue of his eyes
I saw his hands closed still
grasping at straws
that already fell

and lay

no longer in reach

I want to scream I hate you
and maybe you do too
but I knew your (our) traumas
more intimately than I knew you

the lies you (we) weaved
a better quilter than me
with “opportunity” scattered across the floor

luring (us) me between sheets
moans
and presents

rotting like me

because nothing screams “I’ll get to it”
Like the maggots of our (your) dreams crawling back to me

cause I kept feeding them

It’s funny
hearing thoughts I have had
in the dark
Sitting underneath the water in my tub
laughed back to me
with friends
and cramped cars

it was just in a different font
a different accent
but cherished all the same

hearing pieces of my soul
Whispered against my neck
Not knowing I’d ever hear them
out loud

tease me
as we lean against the bar
hiding from the others
call me darlin’
As I accidentally step on a toe
fine maybe two
and pondering who’ll wear the cowboy hat for the night
and maybe a couple more

love me in the crowded room
where no one is watching
watch me dance among the stars
and bellow at the wind

let me sing my worries
and whisper my joys

love me like you love the falling leaves
with your hands tucked in your pockets
before jumping in with everything

love me like you aren’t afraid
in a crowded room
for someone to see you

I think
sorrow and bittersweet must be friends.
Having habits of meeting for a couple glasses
where they can laugh, but only through the tears
the best kinds of laughs really.

they must sit.
having affectionate nicknames of *******
and darling
playing the game repetitively

but still they sit
together
sharing drinks and discussing the weather
feeling lighter but as heavy as ever.

I sat there
dying
skeletal
lost in the waves
their crests
hoping this crash wouldn’t be the one that would break me
scattering me
completely

if you say me before you
tucked in your bar
would you have approached me?

I wonder what slice of me you would have seen
and the one you wanted to see again

what happened?

is what I want to say.

but I can’t say that. Because I think we both know that as much as I loved you

and you thought you loved me.

where were we going?
where was there room for me

don’t tell me
What Penelope would have said
because that is not my prophecy
not mine to claim
because for all the suitors
and waiting
I would’ve set fire to the world
for the thrill of it
in a claim of vengeance
and spite
maybe burn the present
they so desperately desired
so utterly sick of waiting
for the potential of his love
his life
to come home

he said
“whatever you’re doing, keep doing that”
and I laughed
barking French seals

for doing months of work
taking sledgehammers to who I was
and gutting my soul
bare.

breaking everything intangible
and building her again

opening the crawl spaces
where the spiders lay layered

the basement with lounging leaders
diplomats in fear
wrapped in anger
and anxiety

Laying them all out in the open
Sunshine burning their skin
whispering a thank you
and the softest goodbye

cause the doors were wide open
with nothing left to hide

so come in the front door, and I’ll greet you like an old friend
just now with a curfew

as much as I love its whispers
the tangle with the heat
the littlest deaths
of everything but ego
and idolatry

the heat left scars
whispering ink
just left stains
nothing
really pretty
or even very neat

I quit drinking
and that was that.

to sit
slow down and actually pause
in all of the things
is so utterly painful
for months
but oh my god
so so worth it

crawl to me
so I may hear you beg
and I may listen in a smoke filled bar
from a cross the room
how he felt
in another lifetime
what it was like to be wanted

it felt good today
crying after the third mile
enjoying the sweat
the heat

winding down to the sounds
of a home
and a quite loud snoring puppy

But besides the point

it felt good today
finally

I started screaming more
god not at anyone
but just out loud
to the wind
to the sky
just because

Because I could
and I should
and I can.

so I will.

if I shrug on the big coat
the one with wonky sides
scuffle down the roadway
every other night
if i play it really slowly
or forget to turn it down
mix up the order
with socks half sliding down

will I make an impression?
or just try the little(er) coat tomorrow.

‘repressed rage’
she said
as I clung to the whitest porcelain
‘it’ll do that to ya’
leaning against the doorframe
and I swear I could tell you how many flecks of dirt were in the grout
For how many times
I’d worn in a spot from kneeling
‘it’ll figure itself out’
but I couldn’t hear
cause it just kept coming

you left me tools
I don’t know the names to
and anchors
without their mates
manuals without starts
and windshields
without rain

you left me.

and I suppose I have to figure it out myself

god it’s like walking through the ashes of my home
finding all the pieces I no longer can pretend work for me
or even fit
collecting ashes even though they slip through my fingers
over and over

so how do you cope?
you know…
figuring out what ashes I want to smear across my skin
who she is
and who she’ll be

i just know what she won’t be
as i sift through ashes of me

forget me nots
lay littered across my room
just as punctuation
to all I’ve done
and yet to do
cause forget me nots
won’t let me forget you

those nights
where you just know
like an addict
you’re itching
stretching out fingertips
heart aching
hoping maybe for a stimulant
or just a numb
whatever’s closest
but my hands stay against my sides
tucked
because
you know the itch is far more satisfying
than anything in arms reach

A constant
constantly in motion
I thought meant constant speed
constant weight
constant thought
but that you treat
as if it’s at rest

without any external factors
and we know that’s not possible
But more than that
I don’t want rest
not that kind

so I spend my days
learning that a constant
May be constantly in motion
but varying speed
Changing weight
adding friction and moments

that bring complexity
a little joy
and hell a lot a pain

but god do I refuse for me to be stuck
in a perfect swing
of constant
predictability & rest

It is in the way
they held me
mended the tears with different patches
that they all collected
mismatched
and adored

I love the quilt that is me
and those that have loved me
in moments like these

if I could stay
existing
in that 15 minutes of a scalding hot shower
ice cold companion
with nothing but candlelight
and
wow that silence

Oh twist my arm!
you know I can call?
Well just a button or two
you raise the bets
stakes are high
**** pinch and release
She’ll twist and writhe!
you know I’ll call
your bluff…
Tapping
you out?
your call
I’m out OKAY
well i knew that
anyway

yeah.
one of those days
the write off day
the I’m going to laugh cause it’s not even past 12 day
the kinda day were you debate a lottery ticket
but somehow you even lose that
on the way back to the car
and your keys somehow
anyhow

yeah.
one of those days
best to write off
with ramen
and a corona or two

or sunbrew

whatever works
to write off
a little day
for you

Listening to him say “not her”
tickled something in my brain
to be loved is to be seen
but not in the normal sense
nah
in the perfect quirky out of breath hair in your face but still put together? Kinda quirky
as I savour another perfect bite
of Brie/rosemary/prosciutto
I’m left to wonder

why the hell not her

life is too short
to not offer
the passerby
my innermost thoughts
in a flirtation
a smile
if I can’t do anything to put a smile on one person’s face
I’m not doing anything
of any importance
at all