Paint me a scene
with fairy lights instead of memories,
where shadows were warm when we were cold
and the rain was just dewdrops on melodies

i want to leave this life and lose myself
in these poems that tell my story better than i ever could.
i want to end this life and
sprinkle the ashes between the pages,
put them in the paper and have those words
printed on my bones.

i never want to lose these feelings.
out there it’s cold,
and even the people you love can
leave scars behind.
inside this cracked spine
my fears are laid bare;
everything i hate about myself,
everything i hide about myself.
if i could never tell the truth,
breathe these poems and let them say it for me,
i would be happy


                                                         ­                              to no longer exist.

death is a part of nature.
we’re born.
we live.
we carve sad stories into our arms,
and we die.

it’s written in the plan now.
wake up.
eat breakfast.
commute.
contemplate suicide.
work.
commute.
eat dinner.
contemplate suicide.
take a shower.
take a shower.
take a shower.
take a shower.
can i drown in the shower?
cover ears.
put head under water.
sit.
shiver.
contemplate suicide.
choke.
sputter.
hyperventilate.
contemplate suicide.
breathe.
keep breathing.
don’t breathe out.
hit the wall until your knuckles are bruised.
stand.
breathe.
shiver.
wipe nose.
shut off water.
sleep.
face it all again tomorrow.
survive.

i wait and wait but you never show
my heart is ice
my thoughts are snow

Of course I love you.
How could I not?
No one has ever cared
as deeply as you,
Held me
as tightly as you,
Made me feel
as strongly as you.

First loves can be complicated,
because how do you know?
I was always scared of being the girl who said
I love you out of the blue,
two weeks into dating because
maybe she doesn’t understand what love really is.

I smile at every text you send me,
but that’s not love.
My heart skips a beat every time I see you,
but that’s not love.
I close my eyes every time you laugh,
        trying to memorize that sound.
But that’s not love.

No.
Love is sitting on bathroom floors
trying to remember how to breathe
while you wipe away my tears and hold my water bottle to my lips.
Love is the peace I feel when you hug me
and my cheek is pressed against your chest
and for that single moment all of the voices in my head go quiet.
Love is the small details remembered,
the red flags caught,
like when you bring me a sandwich wrapped in foil
because I forgot to eat and I mentioned it was my favorite once before.
Love is the contentment of
lying in your arms, watching movies,
talking,
listening as your breathing evens out.
Love is the perfect comfort of falling asleep tangled up with you.
Love is no longer looking for an escape,
because the world has finally showed me its beauty.

Curious that its beauty is named after you.
It has a messy apartment and shows up late to work.
Its bones crack and moan beneath shea-butter skin,
but it refuses to get them looked at
because, really, it’s fine.
(pop).
Beauty forgets to eat more often than not,
sometimes for days at a time,
and it really ****** me off.
It speeds and makes questionable jokes,
but it always has a comeback and a laugh to share.
Beauty takes the world’s ugliness in its stride,
but is not afraid of honesty.
It snores, but it won’t steal the covers.
Curious, that it is named after you.

So, here we are.
This time my three words are not “I am sorry.”
I am not sorry that I love you.
I am not sorry that I fell headfirst,
way too fast,
because god ****** how could they have made someone as perfect as you.
I am sorry if I overwhelmed you,
but I am not sorry that I said what I said,
and I do not take it back.

I don’t expect you to say it back,
Because that’s not what love’s about.
I am sharing my love for you,
Not expecting yours for me.
I’ve come close to saying it so many times,
Offhanded, like it was perfectly normal.
And I remember the exact moment when I realized,
With your kiss on my forehead and my arm draped over you,
That saying “I’m fond of you too” was an understatement.
I love you.
I fell asleep that night and had a dream that I said it.
And when I woke up the next day,
As I drove the two hours back to my house,
I realized that it was true.
I was terrified,
But I realized that I love you.

If I die tonight, make up something creative.
She was a girl who never let her fears get the best of her.
She was a girl who took chances, who took action, who kissed me on the lips until I forgot that lips are even a thing.
She was a girl who shined so brightly that everyone around her couldn’t look.
They didn’t look.

She died saving the planet.
She died in a freak accident during a circus performance.
She died because that little piece of her was the small crack that spiderwebbed
Until it all overflowed and not even the foundations exist in its wake.

She was a girl who conquered suns.
A girl who captured my heart.
A girl who sang like a violin and plucked strings like wildflowers.
She was a girl who chased the moon and the setting sun and let the stars bathe her in their finite glow.

If I die tonight, make it memorable.
Think of something creative;
But please don’t tell them the truth.

I have this silly game that I play
where I test to see just how long
I can keep everything in.
Problems are thrown my way like dice
that always come up snake eyes
while I pretend they're smiling seven.

It’s just like roulette,
only there are no blanks,
the rounds are fired blindly,
and I wait to see when they will lodge themselves in my throat.

The odds aren’t fair.
I continue smiling as my body is used for target practice,
pretending not to feel a thing
until one day I can no longer contain this pool of blood.
My fingers claw at it, trying to drag it back,
but it’s no use.
I am exposed.
Either I will smile through red-tinted teeth
and laugh it off like a nasty paper cut,
or the reservoir will break and take us down with it.

I am afraid.
Every shot sends anxiety through my bones.
Bang.
I’ve only been pretending to like it because you do.
Bang.
I have so many questions I will never ask, because I’m scared that this isn’t real for you.
Bang.
I trust you – love you, maybe – but my past is lingering like ghosts in a cemetery.
Bang.
Why can’t I stop second guessing?
Bang.
Why can't I tell you?
Bang.
Do I want this because you want this?
Bang.
How do I…
Bang.
Where do I…
Bang.
Begin.

Ready,
    Set,
        Go.