the worst of it was the wanting.
the profound sense that I was lacking something
or, rather, someone
that I desperately needed to complete me.
This was never true, of course.
But the truth can get muddy when
buried six feet below the wanting
of something, anything more.

and i really wish you never kissed me
or showed me your favorite movies

i wish you didnt call me when you were drunk
and chatty

what am i supposed to do with all these
parts of you

How can I put them down

She wrote poetry
though not like most
she used no ink or pen
but nonetheless she wrote
lines of crimson
red that stained
she wrote until her heart was drained
The sliver of hope
the light she held dear
was stuck inside
along with her fear
she tried to reach it
tried to find
some small trace it left behind
she carved
she searched
until red lines
defined her worth

I suppose it says something
I feel comfortable enough
safe enough
to fall asleep on the couch
because I know you're beside me
and
I suppose it says something
you pay attention enough
notice enough
to make up an excuse
and drive me home
even though you wanted to stay
even though I told you to stay

you wanted to drive me home

once upon a time
you were the moon to my stars
which is to say, you didn't know
how to shine without dimming me in the process

and yes, you sat me in your lap to feed me off your fork
but then, you always had a way of presenting scraps as
a reward

and presentation is everything, right?
no, you never truly left me bleeding
instead, my heart and mind were carefully extrapolated
blended together until they looked like the color of your eyes,
and gently poured back in place

how do you know which pieces go where?
how can I know without you?

he asked me why
every time i said “i love you”

the words sounded so much
like a resignation of fate
in my throat
why they fell to the ground
as lead bullets through my teeth

i tried to explain the ticking time
bomb my affections become

explain how the love i’ve known
detonates and runs for cover at the
mere suggestion there is an attack

i am scared of telling you i love you
because

love has never been kind to me

and i want to be kind to you

there is a way to feel no hurt
there is a way for their words to lose
the sting

there is a way to die by no others hand
but your own

.
to care deeply is to be blissful and terrified all at once
you should not be able to put me back together.
you should not have the power to tear it all down again.

all the questions you ask of god echo back.
how have you not yet learned to save yourself?

I think in a small way, I always knew it was you
you've always taken care of me quietly
told me difficult truths
surprised me with my favorite drink
(you memorized my order)
because you knew I was sad before I even
told you
you make me want to be a better person
I am a better person because of you
I like myself better with you

there is a time and a place in which I am entirely and completely loved. in which my demons have been quieted and my mornings are soft. I will be safe. I will love and be loved without questioning.
I will create my own paradise.

but now that I've found you
and you're millions of miles away
it hurts worse

come home

I will write poems about you
memorize your Starbucks order
(even if it's different each season)
ill hold your hand
play with your hair as you rest in my lap

I just want our love to be soft
something safe and warm
we can both crawl into
like hot cocoa after a snowstorm

You pointed out
all my favorite love stories begin in hatred
an offhand comment about the books and shows
I consume like air

I realized there's nothing I want more
then for someone to see me for my worst
pick apart every negative attribute

yet still promise to love me
all of me

but sometimes, darkness is the only one who holds me
how am I to turn back on the only thing
that has never run away?
the only one who
sat up with me through the night
patiently waiting for the sky to break

there was always a darkness in him.
the light that she so easily shone,
disappeared in the black hole cut in the
middle of his chest.

he never gave it back

you told me I don't have to be okay all the time
you told me you still loved me no matter what

its hard because I want to believe you
god, I want to trust it so badly

but every time I've put the walls down
lay down my defense

the only thing i've been left with is
ash in the wake

I do not want someone "brave enough"
to love me
to tear their way through my heart
to leave the wreckage they pass through
worse than before

I want someone soft
to take their time
to notice me in the corner
to silently help me tidy up

to tuck me in bed next to them
with nothing but a "good job" and my kiss
on their lips

yet the days stopped turning to night
ever stretching
everpresent
I just wanted the sky to fade

and the worst part of it all is
I almost loved you

I was a breath away

and I'm terrified

I've never had the privilege to be
the main character
never enough for a leading role

always bleeding plain red
instead of magic

when I tell my mom I feel sick
the first thing she does
is kiss my forehead to see if I have a fever
and
I just feel like
there's a metaphor there somewhere

its getting bad again
I don't know what time it is
I don't know what day it is
I don't know anything beyond these covers
and the
Undone assignments
Unread texts
Unused lifelines

keep piling up

and maybe one day
someone will see the broken pieces i’ve
managed to glue back into
a heart and they
will admire the stained glass

brush over the unfinished bits and
call me a work of art

I like to freeze moments in time
take a step back, and notice all the details
so that hopefully, when we're old and gray
and barely remember our own names

I can still close my eyes and see
the plants in your living room
the $8 bottle of wine on the coffee table
the dinosaur blanket we shared
the pain in my stomach from all our laughter

and the way I was the happiest I'd ever been

humans are 70% water
and when I was little,
I used to think that everyones 30% was different
my mother- 70% water 30% tenderness
my father- 70% water 30% laughter
my sister- 70% water 30% light

as I've gotten older,
I learned that's not exactly how
the human body works

but still, sometimes I wonder
what my 30% is

I have this backpack

every time I want to cry
or scream or yell
I take the feeling and I place it in a jar
and I zip it up in my backpack

its amazing really, how many jars
this one bag can hold

see, I've never emptied it or
even set it down because
I'm afraid if it leaves my shoulders
everything will spill out
and all the jars I've sealed
will break open and I'll hear it  

I have this backpack
and its getting heavy
so heavy

the birds are flying backwards
(you and I are still together)
the fish swim on land
(you unpack your bags)
the attic is below ground
(you walk into my room)
the sky is red
(you tell me you always loved me)
the grass is gray
(you tell me you still do)

so scraped my bleeding heart from my shirtsleeve
it fell to the ground and i saw you
your laugh
your heartbeat
your gentle smile as you broke my heart
this is not fair
i should get to be mad at you.
i can't be mad at you
because even in shattering all i had built in us  

you did it perfectly.

you look at me
the last sunset of
my hometown
sweet and sad
but
full of
remembrance

I know it seems kind of silly
but I want you to know
I feel safe enough to fall asleep
on the couch next to you

it doesn't seem like much
but really
its the only language I have
to tell you how much you mean to me

I am sitting in a pool of my own confliction
wondering if losing you
is worth gaining the love I desperately crave

I've spent so long
debating on taking the leap that
I haven't noticed the water
has reached my mouth

now I am drowning
and unable to say anything at all

I am terrified you'll disappear
I know I shouldn't rely so
heavily on you
but I can't go back to how I was before

not when you gave me a reason
not when you are my reason