Awkward tastes like that glass of red wine you offered,
My name falling out of your mouth like a word you'd forgotten;
Awkward feels like your arms around me
and me trying to remember if you used to rub my back in a hug;
Awkward looks like not making any eye contact
but instead taking turns watching eachother;
The room was full of your family and latina music,
I hadn't been that happy since September
And all the while I could feel my heart choking
On the silence between you and I
And that big lump of "What now?"
That currently defines us.

My Sweet Spaceman
where are you now?
Trying to see between
those little glows
that speckle the sky;
similar to those
no longer in your eyes?
I just want to see
the world in which you're lost,
so take me please,
I'll pay the cost;
I'm sure it's less
than the price I pay
for the half-assed smile
you gave today;
I miss you babe,
it's been too long,
so let me save you
from this wrong,
because believe me when I say
I'm alone in this crowded room
while you run around the moon.

*And you said you never wanted to be an astronaut

Today, for the first time, I looked at my mother. Really looked at her. I've been watching her for years. I know her habits, the way her face slackens when she's mad. I watch the way she is in the world and I know who she is, what she feels like, how she smells; but until today, I couldn't have told you what she looks like. She is beautiful. Breathtaking. It's Christmas and the house is warm, glowing, smells like food. We had company and she was flitting about, kitchen to couch, apron wrapped around her fancy dress. No stockings or shoes. She was waving her arms, twiddling her fingers around her wineglass, rubbing her feet together, always in motion. Her face slid so easily into a smile, creases outlining her happiness. Strong features: a big nose, defined chin, high cheekbones, easily visible because of her short hair. My mother is not a small woman, nor is she big, but she stands tall with broad shoulders, mine now the same, and her presence is colossal. I could see the 20 some year old that my father fell madly in love with. Gorgeous. Strong. But at the same time, so soft. Every part of her nurtures. I sat in awe, stunned that I had not noticed that she was once so much more than Mom. Still is.

Oh dear
oh darling me
how did I come to be
so completely
stuck
under this ridiculous umbrella
of ideas, plans and everything
the world throws
like bricks
and stones and sticks
that crack my bones
dissolve my morals
and break my heart
   my
        little
               beating
heart
I can only scream so loud
and can only listen so close
but one of us is going to have to
try
      harder
because I'm losing
all thoughts that strike a heart string
to my tears
my fears
and my storm is still too steady
for me
to
    put
          away
                   the
umbrella

and everything that's less is more
when we're wrapped up in a way that has always made more
sense than all the dollars you think you need to spend on me
but I just want you to see that when breathing is heavy and I can feel your heartbeat
better than my own is when I know that it'll be okay and even if we aren't meant for more than a little piece
of forever now has never been better
and I just hope you like me in
my socks

"I like you this much"
he says
pale arms stretched to their limit,
fingers extended, gently tickling the air;
his face is hardly more than his smile,
which he hates
but when he smiles
I see the sun;
it warms me
in the cheesiest but most sincere way,
I can't get enough;
he is the sun
and I can't escape his pull,
red hair and explosive personality,
he is the sun;
a week without him is winter,
a day in his arms risks a burn.

"I like you this much"
he says
and this time
I don't look for shade

This feeling flows
like an unobstructed stream
starting deep in my heart
and bubbling out
to my extremities
happiness
in it's purest form
saturates our words and laughter
and soon the room is soaking wet
as we dance and sing
taking hold of our youth
and our freedom
we are
loud
rowdy
drunk on
our love
and wine
we are
infinite
and in these moments
I am
complete
content
*alive

I spent lots of minutes and a deep cup of coffee
with your sister, warding off the rain
and realizing that it was easier to acknowledge
that you've become someone I never met,
who wouldn't call me babesio and give me an Anthurium for Valentines Day
because they were sold out of Cactus's,
I decided it was easier to call you a loser
and laugh at how everything isn't working out;
Life's not what it should have been
for you or us
and nodding along when your sister says
'you're better than him, he'll figure it out'
because it was much easier than acknowledging
that I still only want to wrap you up in a hug
spend all day doing nothing together
and talk about all the grand things we might do someday

I'm okay
Really, I'm fine
But you're not
And that hurts me more than you will ever know

I was never good at tying knots
Until you came along
And taught me every way to tie
A necktie, a bow tie, a scarf
And then we would untie them;
I like that you wear scarves;
You quickly taught me how
To tangle sheets in the thick of darkness
And we then learned how to untangle
Arms, legs, fingers and toes
While the sun rose
And baked us in possibility;
When neckties and sheets
Were no longer a challenge
We tackled tying heartstrings
And very quickly those knots were made
Fastening your heart to mine
A beautiful mass of present and past
And a little of what could be;
We practiced our little knots
Of fabric flesh and feelings,
All day, everyday
Eight months of days
We had them perfected
As perfect as we needed them to be
There's no way they'd come undone
And now as you're leaving
And I don't know if you can feel it
But those strings are tight
They're holding good,
But I'm feeling a little ripping,
Right there in my chest;
Maybe you should untie them
Because you always tied best.

I have never been good at hiding my anything
under more than a thin layer of trying
to hold back the parts of me not everyone should see
I am not afraid of who I am or how I feel and I don't think they should be either
but I'm sorry if my sandpaper tongue and teary eyes are too much
I'm sorry for the mistakes I have made and the ones I will surely make
because I'm not very good at knowing everything or censoring my sensitivity
I'd like to think that I was good to him and I'll be good to this one too
I'd like to think I didn't make a mess I couldn't clean up because I'm a little bit OCD
And I don't like admitting that I'm afraid if things out of my control
I don't believe in perfection but I like the bright days and I don't want to be the kind of person
that breaks hearts and makes happiness hard
because I like whole, happy hearts
and I still love him
in the hardest way
the way that makes me want his life to not be a part of mine
because I would just like
some peace of mind

on that dark snowy street
tongue tied
with yours
you had
my heart beating
too fast to tell me
how to feel
anything but
my frozen feet
your soft fingertips
and that big bowl
of salad
i let you buy me

Flustered in gumboots,
No way to compute
The full weight of the drops
That saturate her scalp
And seem to soak right through
To her clouded brain,
Where thunder roars
And lightning scours
Until she smells burning flesh;
While she spins, confused
The sky seems quite amused
For there is nothing
But sunshine and blue.

I need to stop hating myself
for being the type of girl who loves love
because despite the bitter backlash I have never experienced a thing more beautiful
and that's saying something because
I'm the type of girl who hunts for a sunrise and feels cheated when I miss the sunset
I'm the type of girl that hates going to sleep because I might miss out on something amazing,
even if it's just a cloudless night
I need to stop over thinking everything because
I'm the type of girl who acts from the heart
and my head only gets in the way, makes me regret the decisions I know are right
I'm the type of girl who says what she means
and will cry if I'm hurt
if I'm mad
or if you're hurt
or you're mad
I'm the type of girl that cries
because anger scares me
When I fall, I fall hard because
I'm the type of girl that won't hide behind my pride
I'll put myself out there because
you can't feel love with only part of your heart
I'm the type of girl who loves love
I'm the type of girl who gets hurt
But I have seen incomparable beauty.

The air feels dense
Heavy with my inability to
Hold onto my sense of self
I fight my anger in a
Futile attempt to free
Myself of violent stress
Ironic.

Kids on bikes and big sandy beaches
are no longer her own scraped knees
and a blank canvas to play on.

Boxes of bandaids and just a little more water
do not fix the faults of skin and sandcastles.

She has scars, an ocean within her
and a desire for deserts
that drives her to travel
til she finds what she has been born with.

It does not take a good photograph

i would never frame such a thing

because it's beauty is not in it's looks

it does not caress your eyes

or invoke sweet words

the beauty is in the feeling

that takes your breath away

sneaks up and suffocates your heart

breaks you and rebuilds you

better

And I know the things you've done
and the look of too much ***** in your eyes
or maybe it was tequila, beer, or ***
but whatever the poison, I know the price;
that some girl, you'd call her cute
you did, twice
will be the answer to your emptiness
and she knows these things as you move closer
and laugh and smile, maybe touch her arm, her back
but she's had a few
and misses him, she can't keep track
so you keep talking
and she's stopped walking
because she knows your company, however fake
is much better company
than her endless heartbreak.

I just know

I'm hopeless
-ly
hopeful
that this
will
last
longer
than
my
last
forever

because
infinity
has never seemed
so enjoyable
and
I
have
never known
the unknown
to be
a
desirable
destination

I'm hopeless
-ly
hopeful
that someone
will
hold
my
hand
because
I
can't see
with all these
stars
in
my
eyes

And blind has never been better

You have managed to seep so deeply
into my skin,
my heart,
my mind,
that every time I wish to find my words;
wish to write something meaningful,
something beautiful
you are all I see

and so the words become a feeble attempt at your description
as my heart so desperately tries to put adjectives to feelings
and I end up sounding
like some love-struck, sappy, amateur poet
that knows nothing but you
which isn't true

I know lots

And it's still hard to believe it's been a year
even after a year has turned into a year and one month

And the burn that follows a tequila shot
is accompanied by your laugh

And coconut anything smells like you

And anytime any one of the many songs you loved plays
You are all I see

And I think about your eyelashes
when I put my makeup on

And red lipstick and polka dots
cannot be worn without remembering you on any other day

And lemon squares taste
like those good times

LOTR? The Beatles? Pink Floyd? Fleetwood Mac? Shakespeare? Hilary Duff?(only you would understand)
All enjoyed with you in mind

And everything that's awesome
has become a reminder
that you missed being our tequila queen on the first day;
that you never got to wear your cap and gown
and eat pancakes at 5 am;
never got to see eighteen
and put your well educated vote to use;
and you never got to stand to your full five feet and one inch
and say to the world
"Here I come."

And I guess the songbirds keep singing
with that blackbird
in the dead of night

But it's hard to hear
because we're all butchering Bennie and the Jets
at the top of our lungs
from atop someone's couch

Just like you'd have wanted,
just like you'd have done.

No matter how long I stood under that hot water
It could not beat the defeated feeling from me
If anything it only bruised me more
I stared at white porcelain and products that
No matter how long I scrubbed
Left me feeling just as clean as that grimy shower curtain
I was coming to the conclusion that this wound was more than skin deep
And I had know that before, but I wore denial as a blindfold
Because in the darkness I couldn't see that all the makeup that I pretended wasn't very much
Was doing nothing to hide the puffy red and purple eyes
Evidence of tears, too many to allow for sleep
I'm too much of an open book for makeup and clothes to make any difference
I know, they know, you know
I'm tired of the look
The look of pity that has morphed into one of exhaustion, because they are all getting bored
With my mundane heartbreaks
I don't blame them
But this isn't sadness anymore
I'm lost
I feel defeated, by myself mainly, because I can't even pretend I'm mad
I'm just lonely, and I'm tired of not knowing what to do, or how to feel
I want to let it all go and have the "fun time" they're all living
But I don't like their fun, it's too much
I'm too fragile, always so fragile
I don't want to believe it's done and the all the best things break
I don't want to forget you, the way you looked at me, acted around me,
held me close in that same shower
I'm preventing my own healing
I'm fighting myself, still
And I'm just really
Really tired

The words flew out
My mouth
Now scorched
I watch as your
Anger ignites
Your hair, blight
With orange flames
Lick your cheeks red,
Your eyes attempt
To quell the heat
But useless tears
Fall at your feet;
My head, heart
Already burned
Crisp and black
I can't
I won't
Ever take it back.

I am born into womanhood
at a time when the culture of love is synonymous with that of passion;
defined by the quiet crinkle of foil wrappers
and sweaty skin.

I am born into womanhood
at a time when beauty is defined by others,
when how you look is who you are;
nothing more and certainly always less.

I am born into womanhood
at a time when women are so powerful
that they are constantly trying to knock their sisters down;
self betterment and discovery are discarded for the sake
of being on top.

But I was born into a marriage
that values favourite colours
and buys flowers just because;
I love you is said as an appreciation,
not an obligation.

I was born into a family
that compliments my achievements and my interests,
that tells me I will do beautiful things;
I will be beautiful in this world because I am,
not because I could be.

I was born into friendships
that survive on the strength of diversity
and without the integrity of each other,
the shoulders to lean on,
may as well be leaves in the wind.

I am born into womanhood
a different kind of woman.

We talked
he and i about
all the reasons why you and i can't
talk anymore

we talked for a long time

I don't remember the last time we,
you and i, really
talked about things that weren't
relevant or recent

it's been a long time

We've been talking with our lips but
hardly ever in the way that
accomplishes things
or reveals things i didn't already know
about you or the things that matter to you

this silence is kind of deafening and my lips are feeling lost
i tried to talk the other day to you about me and us and our things
but i couldn't find the words
and so
the talking didn't last
and the space between my words got very large and heavy
and the tears between my eyelids got very large and heavy
and maybe even slipped out
once or twice

But we talked
he and i about
all the reasons why you and i can't
talk anymore

And I had lot's to say

She was daisy chains in July
Wilted by August
And nearly nonexistent when the leaves fell
But she bounced back every spring
Even though she fell often
In those season changing winds
She was soft and small
And had her heart right there
In the center
More golden than the sun
She was the definition of delicate
And knew the meaning of sincerity
She was everything she could have been
And somehow always growing
She was not one, but many
A symbol of simplicity
And I'd wear her as a crown
If only
She'd let me

So much lost
And so much learned
We'll push our luck
Laughing with tears
We'll make mistakes like every child
Does once or twice
We'll go beyond
And do it thrice
Who knows where
Or why and what for
But we'll  try each key
Open each door
Throw our pennies down the well
Ride each wave
And crash each swell
We'll hold on til the bitter end
Only believing in the innocently pretend
We'll wreck our brains and feed our souls
Build memories and forget about gold
For it's too heavy for the free of heart
And last but not least
We'll make a strong pact
That no matter who or what
We won't look back

Sometimes I'll stand in front of that mirror for so long,
I'll forget why I came into the bathroom,
Because I can still see your fingerprints
And a faint outline of a kiss on that hollow spot above my collarbone,
The spot you would kiss romantically
And I would twitch and laugh, because it gave me shivers,
And you would do it again
Because we weren't ****
We were silly, and tickle fights were our thing
The best thing;
And those fingerprints
On my hips and my ribs from holding me close
But mostly in that spot on my back,
Just below my shoulder blade,
Where you would tap your fingers to say Hello,
Remind me you were there, and I was yours;
Those aren't fading very fast;
I was always jealous of your tattoos,
The real ones and the ones that I would trace
When there was no light for me to see
That beauty is truth and truth beauty
But I suppose you gave me tattoos in a way
Left your mark in a way that only I could see
But today,
Today I saw me
Just me,
Clear skinned and smiling.

As if the Sun could not warm me
with it's endlessly finite rays
you reach out and wrap me
in balmy, blissful days

And for the first time
my everything is enough
and it's okay that I'm not and never will be
that kind of tough

But, again with the fear
of abruptly finding the end
and discovering the journey
was all just pretend

The million little things
that you so effortlessly do
are barely enough
to let myself love you

But that's not your fault
and nor should it be;
when it comes to laying blame
it all falls on me

So please excuse me
while I fight with myself
and know that I'm finally dusting things
on that old neglected shelf

Just know
That I believe in peace
even if it's in pieces
and I think that we
are pretty good at puzzles

Oh it's just the little things
the way she hummed
and the way he sings
the warm tea
that tickles my nose
the wet dog tongue
that tickles my toes
that look you throw across the hall
that gut wrenching feeling
when you fall
the warm breeze
that envelops the night
the millions of stars
that twinkle bright
the moment at the top of a slide
the feeling that follows
a really good cry
the kind of laughter
that makes you hurt
the comfort you get
from that old ugly shirt
the moments you forget to count
that all add up
to
being
   happy

The air is smooth and warm,
the breeze wraps around you
and seems to fill you with a rare kind of contentedness;
specks of infinity freckle the navy sky
and the streetlights glow against the buildings,
like something you've seen in paintings;
her hand is small and a little sweaty against yours
but you wouldn't let go,
not even to grab something out of the nearer pants pocket;
the town is empty, asleep, quiet,
and the noise of your feet on the pavement is almost offensive
but it fills the silence between you,
that lies in the small gap between your arms;
she's so close,
you missed her
and you know she missed you
but you pretend not to notice the way she keeps turning to look at you,
and you suppress the smile that surfaces each time you catch her eye
until you find yourselves in the alley,
away from the lights
and while pressed up against that wall,
pulling her closer and tasting every sweet thing she's said
and every laugh she's chased your jokes with
you pretend to understand
the complex perfection
of the simplicity and beauty
that is a summer night.

her hair was the dark sky
splashing over the edges of her pillow;
waves of black velvet ink,
spilled by reckless writers
while writing their love story
all over the cotton sheets of paper

her laugh was the moon;
shining a path through the hours of their shared whispers
and comforting him, the weary night traveler
who no longer felt lost

her eyes were the stars;
so bright and breathtaking,
behind them hid so much mystery,
he wondered how she could see

he soaked in every moment
and wished for an endless night

It'll be okay
And if it's not
It'll still be okay
Because my tears
Were meant to be shed
And my anger was meant to be bled
All over this life that we hadn't planned
But the fear will dry
Like the tears I cry
And eventually I'll understand
That nothing is ever supposed to be planned;
That adventure is exciting
And the unknown is awfully inviting
And everything that hurt
Will heal
But not without a scar;
So thank God for those stars
Because they know
That it'll be okay,
Even if it isn't.

Inspiration blossomed
Between the layers of experiences
Cataloged in the folds of her mind
It extended down
Rooting itself behind her deep eyes
And brightening them until they outshone
Any star that graced the evening sky
Pigment leeched into her cheeks
And pulled them back revealing a brilliant smile
As the tendrils of thought unfurled into her body
Her shoulders slumped
Her arms relaxed
And she wrapped her infected fingers around the paintbrush
Which began to dance
And the only sound heard
Was the bristled feet scuffing the white canvas floor
Leaving tracks of royal blue, rich purple and green
After hours of their tireless dance
She released the brush and stepped back
Her imagination had splattered her clothing and hands
And slowly she allowed her eyes to roam
The workings of her mind

Too many nights
were never enough
With only the stars
to call my bluff;
Making constellations
from the freckles on my face,
Waiting for the mirror
to deem me a disgrace;
Summer nights
warm and full,
Spent wishing,
waiting for the pull
From you
that never came
I learned the rules
to your stupid game;
The one that you weren't playing.

I'm used to playing alone.

my knees and ******* protrude
from the still water
like mountains in countries I've never seen
I have always hated
since the time I surpassed the length of the tub
that I could not stretch out
my body looks alien
I don't recognize
the bends and angles
I'm disconnected from my finger tips
as they make ripples
break the surface tension that
holds my brain
holds my soul
the blue ribbon holding me in this porcelain box
I am washed with all my thoughts
my plans I have not made
and when I stand
dripping and cold
I am *****

and as I towel myself
I drain and redraw the tub

again
and again

until I am clean.

Three years now
I have started off
Pressed into your lips

Two years now
February has been my personal hell
And you held my hand

One summer now
We didn't make it all the way
And you kissed my hand goodbye

I don't know how many nights
I have cried to you
And you don't know
How many of those nights
I cried about you

My lungs must stretch
to keep up with this laughter
it's endless and my hair flies away
I know I've got little smudges of mascara
circling my wide eyes because I've been too busy watching you
and laughing and breathing
forgetting that I'm afraid of you
breaking my heart I don't think I am
last time I need to stop comparing
but last time I was afraid
because everything was so perfect and I don't
believe in perfection I didn't
I don't want to fear the way
you look at me and hold me tightly
I don't want to disagree with all your lovely compliments
because I'm tired of pretending I don't deserve them
I do
I want to have all those butterflies the ones I get when
I see you or talk to you or think
of you and I want those moments
when we're walking and laughing too hard at a bad joke so we pause
and look at each other stare hard at each other
into each other and laugh harder
I want those to last
for not forever but long enough to enjoy them
really enjoy them
maybe I do want you to break my heart
because that would mean I fell for you
loved you and
there's nothing I'd
rather do
more.

Can a sweater be remade?
After one thread got caught and the rest began unraveling
After you leave and I'm here and there's a mess of string between us
I want to take it all back, find that thread that caught and tuck it back in
I want to pull it all in, tighter than it was before, close-knit
There's a breeze sneaking through the holes
And fear of this new reality chills my bones
I just want warmth
That reaches to the tips of my fingers and toes
Warmth that I can't contain
The kind that escapes in laughter
Leaves my cheeks permanently flushed
Emanates from me so that everyone can feel it
I want to be warm
I want you to be warm

I thought you said
                 you knew how to knit

       I once thought I said
the same

Smells like September
Sunny days with sad shadows
Clear, cold breezes invite a sweater
That does half the job
You would have done
At keeping me warm
Smells like stress
School
A fresh start
That feels a lot like last year
When he left me
Like you did
Alone
Deja Vu
Except chances are
I won't find another you
No one is coming around
To pick me up off the ground
And if they do?
I'll wave them away
Won't let them say
"I promise I won't do that"
Because
I'm getting tired
Of this
Cold pavement
And these reoccurring visions
I'm getting tired
Of getting my hopes up
And my heart open
Only to be left in the cold
I'm getting tired
Of September

Push my back against a wall
and yell until you're hoarse;
Slap me around,
knock me to the ground
and kick me 'til you're spent
Pound through my thick skull
and tell me how I'm blessed

Now shoot me
with an empty gun;
Scare me into remembering
what I've got to live for;

*everything