When I was little
I played with plastic toy knives
and dragged them across
my brother's throat
saying, "You're dead!
You're dead! You're dead!
I swear, you're dead!"

And we pretended
kool-aid was blood,
letting it drip down
my chin and neck,
down my chest,
past my pec.

I wrecked my bike
and ran for days.
I was stung by bees and swore,
"Nothing could hurt more
than this."

And when I turned twelve,
I learned how to ******* to dreams.
The grip on my skateboard
wouldn't let go of me.
I ollied over plastic bags
and stared at lottery tickets
sleeping in the garbage.

She and I played with fireworks
faster than shooting stars.
We waded in the lake,
being a cliche.
She and I rolled on the grass, naked.
I don't know where she is, now.

I don't know.

What would I say
Were you to take my hand,
The puzzled look in your eye
One not of love, but betrayal.  
The memory of my sandals grazing
Your worn army green boots beneath
The table, as a tear slid
Down the bridge of your nose
Looking like chocolate syrup against the
Brown of your skin. How can
I explain without tasting the mint
Of your Spear toothpaste and feeling
The wet of your palm in
Mine, your lips reaching down to
The slice in my finger, *******
Out the blood till the sting is gone.
How do you scream into ears
The harsh reality, when they
Have always whispered the
Soft truth into yours.
Sinking off the edge, it is
Easier to kiss the back of
Your neck than the tenderness
Of your lips goodnight.

While you turn your head precariously
towards the soft autumn seeping in
through the open window, and your
brown hair flutters in the cool breeze,
I watch your face: as your eyebrows draw
forward in thought, creating coal black
hawk wings arching across your forehead,
as you pucker your lips in contemplation,
as you exhale a slight sigh, trying to make
sense of it all.  

In that moment,
I hope you understand the extent to which
I am not next to you, but with you. Floating
along, entangled with the soft lavender of
your perfume drifting upon the breeze, dropping
seeds of brokenness and hope wherever it is
the wind may carry you.

Red twitching eyes
Gotta cancel the rest of the day, sleep sleep
Need all the dream clouds and relax time
I can muster.

All my lady friends, they say
Don't live off of tomorrows
And I remember The Betrayer and his promises of tomorrows
I did, I knew you and kissed you for a fleeting moment
Tore your apartment down, us together
An ending into a beginning
Watch you drive away, as you looked after me.

Choosing your life over a life of us together
I dance and did the same
But I can't and won't fight for you anymore.

You say you are around
You say I am so sorry
Never mean to abandon, disappoint
But robotic answers, I don't mess with them.

I want a man who holds my face in his palms
Not just temporarily
But dotes on me like a dove
Admires and encourages my brilliance
Twirls me like a little doll
Fights for and with me like a warrior
Stands next to me and my levitating wings.

I guess, yeah
I really hoped it would be you
But you gotta press some buttons
You are around, around, around
As the women around me
Our nostrils flare and we consume lattes
Setting the world on fire.

If I could hashtag how over it I am
Turn it into a jest, I can't stick up for you anymore
But I finger painted in so many--remember whens

But I just think of long platinum blonde hair
Of the black box Alabama theatre
As people would look at me and say
This one, she's gotta go
She's meant for more.

Black haired and eyelined
Searching, searching for a partner
I seem to always fall into the wrong ones
A Bonnie & Clyde bob, a strawberry blonde mane
Natural, dark for Eleanor
Long lioness hair.
And thats why it hurts so bad, I tell all my friends
I hoped you and mathematics might be different
But I don't hold onto tomorrow.

My Grandmother's spirit sprinkling
Bravery and beauty within me
Staring at her face as if it is my face
Would she curtsey to the woman I am now?

I don't know what I believe in
But I wanna make a million pieces of art--
Asking questions
And I do, I hope the hero that is meant to stand next to me
Just  will
But I, I live in the moment.

Number of times you took my hand: 52.
Number of times we sat in your car: 101.  
Number of times I played your guitar: 6.
Number of times you played mine: 23.  
Number of times I kissed you: 80.
Number of times you kissed me: 93.  
The length between your house and mine: 12 miles.
The length between you and me:  1,148.
Number of times you said I love you: 83.  
Number of times I looked away: 13.  
The amount of ways you tried to back away:  4.  
The number of ways I tried to pull you closer: 5.  
The number of days between your goodbye and my good riddance: 3.  
The number of hours I cried: 6.  
The number of times I tried to run away: 18.  
The number of hours I have stared at my phone, waiting: 48.  
The number of times you have called: None.

The dynamics of us were made up
Of the sent of your
Home made soap from the Eugene farmers market and the cherry taste of my Chapstick.
When walking home, the smell lingers, but we always turn around to identify the scent at the wrong time and miss each other's face's.