hey, are you doing anything?
i’ve been reading a lot of poetry and i was wondering
if you wanted to stay up all night again
and when i say stay up all night again
i mean let’s not sleep a single hour
roll around on the floor again
chlorine scented hair
and warm hands
under torn shirts
and let’s go swimming in my grandmothers pool
in our underwear at two in the morning
float on our backs to see the stars
maybe we’ll catch the sun rise just over the neighbors roof
or maybe we’ll dry off
and eat melted klondike bars in the driveway
and i’ll be tempted to lick the chocolate off of your
fingers

hey, are you doing anything?
let’s hold each other’s face
like we’re stopping earth’s orbit
and pretend the sun won’t rise anytime soon

I read a sign on the interstate driving home today
‘expect the unexpected’

The wires in my brain are short circuiting again
And I feel myself slipping on black ice
I think I may have hit my head

Days seem like seconds
They jump back and forth like a game of hopscotch
Making me forget homework was due today
and not next week

Winter has come and gone
But my body still moves in slow motion, frozen
Unable to thaw even in the hottest shower
Even when my skin is bright red and burning

My room is a stagnant body of water
The walls seem to know how to breathe
Drawing closer with each inhale
And I am terribly claustrophobic

How can I expect the unexpected
when I knew this was coming?

She calls me "baby" and I don’t flinch
it feels like I am Joan of Arc
and her touch is the fire
flames licking up the sides of my body
Jesus Christ does it feel good to burn

I’ve never had anyone touch me the way she does
Soft yet hungry
Understanding of the scars
and still wanting to kiss me
I want to leave ink stains all over her
marking my territory so everyone knows

I will never get tired of your warm, fidgeting hands
Please don’t tire of mine

The raindrops are Morse code outside my window
tap tap tapping secret messages like
“The trees told me you’re lonely”
“I’m sorry”
“Stay in bed”
I watch as they roll down
and I want to capture them
keep them in a jar
and listen while they whisper sweet nothings
about the soil and the clouds
and in return I could ask them
why the earth cries or maybe
to explain the art of sliding down walls
and puddling at the door frame,
maybe take notes on how they
make it look so graceful.

this winter will be not be easy
it’s only 35 degrees
and i can’t even make the trip out to my car
the cold air tastes like regret
and it freezes in my lungs and
i’m having trouble breathing
i’m having trouble breathing
and all i’m seeing is black and all i’m hearing
is laughter that’s not my own
and i’ve been home now for hours and i still feel the chill in my bones
i will never be warm
i will never be warm