Hera puts on a new set of armour
donning hairnet, yellow washing gloves and an apron
She washes the dishes with fervour
but wonders why she didn't marry Poseidon

For old Zeus was built like thunder
and she used to feel that electricity
but she know as she reaches for the plunger
that his heart feels no pity

Sometimes you don't have to speak
I can understand without a squeak
When we lay side by side
Your breath in time with mine
When we go out together
And see something queer
We only have to swap looks with each other
So don't say you're okay
When I know you're angry
Don't be afraid to make me cry
I'm more afraid of times
When our hearts don’t align

She knows
concrete – not the soft earth
of late April, finally thawing

She knows
the carefully groomed trees
decorating the sidewalk - not
a garden tousled with wind
savoring its first sip of sun

She knows not
fresh air or quiet - but
when the clouds
become heavy and burst

her bones ache
her bones know

How in love are we?
Can you tell?
This is me trying.

I have been every shade of someone else
But with you, I am myself
This was something I was supposed to be immune to
That I claim I’m better at
This is going to hurt
Loving you is like reaching the heavens
While planting myself deep into the ground
Bridging them with all our words of love and promises
Always the certain words, always the uncertain future
You are my release from this trap of skin
Whispering my insanity, breaking the naked eye
Each of my 206 bones are aching to fuse with yours
If I didn’t say I love you that night
That would’ve cost me a whole universe
Thoughts of “You ruined it” came rushing
But when you inhaled my words and let out a smile
I knew you wouldn’t let me destroy this alone
You never let me hurt the poems in my lungs
Always the air to breathe in
You let me breathe
You are one of my birthday wishes I never made but came true
I swear to god you can see a mosaic of you on my nails
A museum of half-drunk thoughts of you in my head
Your irises are deeply rooted in mine
Hands fit, shoulder blades never cutting each other
You're already in poems I haven't written yet
They will never lose a hint of you in them
We never needed that relationship anatomy
We are our own perfect piece of the time frame
I found happiness in your tired arms
I stopped hiding
You are safe in my mouth
I am always hungry
Never distant
But never close enough
The corpses of my questions found light in your answers

Our lost became our home.
Our broken our ceiling.
When we started building again, that ceiling crashed
Now we see stars, the swirling galaxy that made this worth the pain
When we said “I love you”
We meant “I am ready to be consistent with you”

How in love are we?
Can you tell?
This is me trying.

mom? dad?
i’m drowning.
swimming towards the light above,
astringent tears fill my lungs.
mom? dad?
i can’t breathe.
miniscule doses of albuterol
escaping from my little plastic inhaler
stand meager in the eyes of the overly developed fear,
prying its way up the lengths of my throat.
mom? dad?
there’s a stranger in my room.
i stand in front of the mirror
waiting for my reflection;
waiting to see that little girl,
bright, blue eyes, wide smile.
but there’s a stranger there instead;
bloodshot eyes,
inflamed scores down her cheeks,
reaking of poor judgement and broken promises.
mom? dad?
i can’t hear the music.
the floor is varnished with broken cds,
torn-up sheets of abandoned lyrics,
mutilated “i love you”s;
but the record player is still on.
turning and turning
yet i don’t hear a single note,
my senses are paralyzed
by the blow of my demolished heart.
mom? dad?
they won’t stop talking.
people.
people in my head.
voices loud as they scream profanities,
soft as they whisper lullabies,
stern as they bellow punishments.
i can’t make sense
of those who twist and tug on my heart strings
and those who wish to elongate them.
i need out.
mom? dad?