I want to love myself
I want to love my curves and how i laugh
I want to love how my stomach folds over into small rolls when i sit down or how my brain works in creative ways, completely unique to me
I want to love my small flaws instead of picking them apart bit by bit and trying to be something im not
I want to love myself but most importantly want to be at peace with myself again

I regret the snow
It didn't make any sense to hear from a girl who hasn't known anything but the Northeast, but she wasn't done
I miss the grass

She was listening to country music
It ripped up her insides and forced her to spit them out
Hiraeth- homesick for a place you've never been
She stitched ankle bands that looked like Grecian sandals but had no souls
She went out and stood on rain soaked wood
I would have kissed her if she wanted to be kissed but she just wanted to be warm

I don't blame her, I guess
Seattle radio shows don't talk about the rain because it causes mass depression
But I gave her something to love
Something other than jump ropes made of hoses and raspberry thorns
I don't melt when the sun dissipates
I could have held her...
She left yesterday.

I've had a recurring dream,
In which I swim myself into deep ocean,
Ignoring icy waves that crumble atop me,
Until I'm just a pale face in the water,
Staring up
Reflecting a blank sky.

That's when I exit myself,
I watch myself drown and,
I realise it may not have been a dream as much as I thought.

sweltering hot days
have tarried in our district  
prolonging the roast

I don't know if I know you yet,
I'm only 19 after all.

I don't know if I've made you laugh,
But I can already hear it now.

I've probably made you smile,
I'm sure it made my day.

I probably even once have made you cry,
I hope it was forgivable.

I know one things for sure,
Future wife.

I already love you.

some feelings now
have faded
like the tears and
panic i washed off

but others remain
still the urge to
cry and still the stings
where i am hurt

i am no longer
a child
but my sleeves
tell me i am vulnerable
and immature
seeking attention
and never think
about anyone's feelings
but my own

my sleeves tell me
i am selfish

and i want to cry
for if those things
were really true
i think hurting
myself would be low
on my list of priorities
and instead i would go
after targets less close
to the center of my
regrets

hurt and violate others
people i won't have to
see every day
for the rest of my life

but there they are
cuts and scratches
i'll keep to myself
trying not to be selfish

Because eventually
We will retire our broken hearts to the back yard
Where they will bark
And hack and curse at people walking by
We will mean to tame them but never get around to it
So it stays tied to the back of our psyche
Begging
And biting at anyone that comes near
We will grow scared and tired of the growling
Our scratches will heal after we stop revisiting it every night
It will fade from our minds
Still leashed to a thousand-
finished pieces
You will begin to romanticize it
Cry with it
Sympathize with it
But slowly push it away
Like a friend who's too far gone
When you find it will never be gone from your memory you start to feed it hoping to change it
But it will always bite you back
Something you cannot save
Something that you neglected
Something you tried to ignore
And prayed it would just disapear
Was found dead
To begin with

Our hearts are not protected
No muzzles for the broken
No pounds for the lost
We are attempting to cage
Fire

We cannot win cheating battles
You cannot ignore the aching feeling

You cannot wish that it was gone

When you invited it

Sometimes in life.
Life just *****.
And that's life.
Which *****.
****...

how do you start a
poem
it's been so
long

i remember how to let
the colors do the talking
textural inflections of
what's internal

except i have a hard
time expressing pain
and sadness in color
because i love colors

and that has left me
with a lot of ends i
can't weave in so
now i'm trying to
remember how to
write a poem

guess i should
start like this