I watch a man stumble to a window seat on a moving bus.
His eyes are red and his mouth is watering.
He's got a large plastic bag in one hand and holds an apple and some bread in the other.
I can hear his moans and groans over my headphones.
"What am I doing here?" the song asks me.
I run my fingers through my hair
and tap my foot nervously at the question.
The man stands up,
then proceeds to get on his knees, as if he's looking for something he's lost under his chair.
"Maybe everyone's lost too, looking for a way out"
My body is trembling now at the words she sings to me.
I wish you were here with me.
Now that I'm alone in bed.
With only the dark to keep me company.
Sometimes I wonder if you could be?
If it's too much to ask?
Too much to speak?
I know you're busy.
Please forgive me.
Depression slithered into me unexpectedly this evening.
And wrapped itself around me.
"What do I know? I'm a child"
The song fades. But I'm still listening to everything it's said to me.

She says "he's still in the jungle"
He owes her five hundred still for all the little ones.
There's an owl in a gold frame just staring at me.
And this golden poison is deep in my veins now.
My face,
slimming
puckering.
What have I done?
Who have I become?
Sat up against a brick wall.
On the back of a napkin the words bleed.
I feel queazy.
Will I bleed too?
Like pink and red roses.
She says
"I already have some"
But I have nothing and no one.
I am light.
Air.
But thick as bone.
As wood, creaking.
I can feel him.
I can feel everything.
I'm sinking.

I took a deep breath in
Smelt wet pavement
Weeds
Heard the pouring rain
Watched the windows fog
There was a delay
Then
And now
My body slow like molasses
I could taste you on my lips
Before I even knew what was happening
Before I even knew you
I wanted to taste her too
Her hair
A white blonde
His eyes sown shut
I wanted you
Just like this
One hundred days short
Somewhere
A week
Nestled between
Before I even knew you
You were mine
You made me weak at the knees

I can see you.
In a one way mirror.
You're looking at you.
I'm looking a you.
You don't know I'm looking.
I press my hand up against the glass.
I can feel you.
I can feel your elbow against my jaw.
I can hear you.
I can hear myself.
I hear the sound of my teeth chatter together.
I can taste you, you remain on my lips.
I taste metallic.
Was there something I said?
Something I did?
Even before four in the morning mistakes?
Before you told me you ached?
You said: "for a moment, i forgot the pain."
I should have said: "mine never went away. "
I wish you wouldn't have left so suddenly.
I wish we had a little more time.
I wish you were here now.
Are you angry?
I can't see you now.
Now I'm the one hidden behind a glass pain, disguised as a mirror.
I can't stop staring.
Who is this woman?
Make her go away.

My mind is busy, busy
But my heart will always
have room for you.
My body is aching, aching
But my hands will always
hold you.
Even if we're shaking
And the ground is quaking
Nothing will change
between me and you.
I won't forsake you.
Say you won't too.

Shadows on your back.
Branches.
The colors change.
If you wanted me, why did you leave?
Dust swirling in the light.
By the blinds.
If you wanted me, why are you asleep?
You: white t-shirt
Me: your striped sweatshirt
Declarations.
Never made.
Just your hand in my hair,
never on my face.

was crossing the street when behind me came lights of red and blue. I stepped back into a grass path and let it pass. I had my headphones in and the music droned out the sounds of the sirens. I followed it. Unaware. And found it in my front yard, heading towards the back. I clapped my hand over my mouth in awe and I watched a woman direct it to my sandbox. I tried to stop it, but my mouth was dry and my hair was falling out. I took a sip of water because the air was hot and my ice was melting. The street reminded me of France. And I swear, in the corner of my eye I could see the Eiffel Tower. A man with light eyes (or were they dark?) sat in front of a bookstore and all the lights were out. I thought of a poem I wrote. I waited and waited but he never came. Will he come again? It was half past eight and I was lonely. Waiting for two. Then fifteen. They five. I want to lay on your bed. A dimly lit room. I want to read you something.
“Takes me back to when I went ages without bathing or remembering who I loved. When I slept where I fell. “
Do you remember me now?
Your mother and your father.
Do you have sisters and brothers?
The man stood and sat. With a coffee in his hand. Black.
I want to whisper in his ear.
“We are strangers, but we are here”
I walk around and leave it to the fairies. To the roses and the stone path. To Mother In Law. Painted blood orange, covered in mirrors. I eat watermelon and hope I can always hear.

And this is the way you survive losing a father.
4am. Icy air. Whispering trees.
And this is the way you drive to an abandoned place.
Eyes swollen shut. Blank Faces. Sleepless nights.
And this is the way you stop listening to all the beeping, the screaming.
To walk into a room without falling to your knees.
To hold a hand of an absent creature.
And this is the way to follow a heart pound.
As if it weren’t the only sign he was still there.
To leave for just a moment.
To cry as you listen to the sounds of someone die.
And this is the way to come back, to a sheet, a face, a slowing beat.

I can feel you fleeting
Oh the things I do to get to you
My palm pressed up against white brick
You are a great wave
and a great drought
You give and you wait
But you never take

Wrap me in crinkled paper. In cotton and leather. Feed me the finest fruit.
Give me Magnolia. Lilies. Anything but a rose. Build me something with wood. Something I can keep close to me. With iron legs and copper hands. Sour candy and wool. Woven with fingers covered in clay. A willow tree watching. Standing still like a tin man. Turn him to steel. He will ask you for silk. Lace too. He is more than a man. A beast. He is crystal clear. Like China, covered in a thick layer of dust. On a silver screen. A woman in pearls. Hidden deep under the sea, surrounded by corral. Paint me ruby red, dip me in sapphire.  
We were golden. Diamonds were supposed to be forever. Look at us now. We still play games. What if? Regret. Resent.
There's nothing here. Just you and I. And I'm air. So really, it's just you here.
"You are worthless my dear. There is not enough liquor in the world to hold me to you. Even with a heavy grip around your wrists."
Slip. Disappear.

I can't shake this feeling now
We're going through the motions*

I've known it for a long time.
I am trying to be patient.
Reaching out for something.
Feeling nothing but thin air.
Why is that you tug at me?
I'm growing weary.
Can you not see what you are doing?
Can you not feel it when you are close to me?
We breathe the same air.
Speak the same words (occasionally)
For a second, I was convinced you knew me.
But I think i'm constantly playing movie reels inside my mind of the someone I thought you'd be.
(This isn't a movie)
You feel like a ghost to me.
Like a zombie.
You're eating away at me.
Devouring.
I told a woman the day before yesterday
"it's much to late"
I've already given almost everything.
I want you to have me.
Need me.
Consume me.
We are untagged.
Untitled.
It's freeing.
Living in this moment with you.
But i'm afraid of the darkness up ahead.
Of the road i'm having trouble seeing.
I can't imagine you.
I can't imagine me.
I can't imagine anything.

I want to rip you off - but you don't come off easy.
I want to get you off - but it's not that simple.
You tend to sleep & I tend to talk.
And talk and talk.
I tend to leap & you tend to walk.
I skid my knee.
But I never stop.
I keep going.
On and on like a bandaid.
Bleeding underneath.
But that won't stop us from seeping out the sides.
Well get soggy and soft over time.
Only water will wash it off.
So I'll stay dry in this heat.
I'll keep it turned up to ninety.
Giving everything and what am I getting?
We need stitches.
We need surgery.
It won't help anything.
Just a bandaid.
We'll just keep bleeding.
We're dying.

Kiss me until you taste laughter.
I'm not sure I laugh anymore.
I breathe in deeply, and hope that you can't feel me; shaking.
It's been ages since we've showered
I wiped my makeup and all my insecurities away with a warm washcloth.
That night, you barely touched me.
When I hear words, I piece them together and your face appears in front of me.
When you hear me read, you sit in silence.
I'm hoping that you can taste the sweat I wrung out into this page.
That you see my face wrinkle, and my hands covering.
I've been thinking.
Soon. You'll watch the tide go out with me. I'm hoping then & there; you'll say "be mine"

A vulture picks at a scab I got from skidding my knee.
I can feel it’s beak dig deeper and deeper, almost reaching my bones.
I’m starving, licking my lips and clutching my stomach.
The vulture feeds me my own flesh.
I can taste you.
Pressed up against silver.
You taste of pulled hair.
Black curtains.
I can smell you as you go down.
Fumes of detergent slipping out the corners of my mouth.
I feel as if you belong inside of me. But you start to exude.
The vulture grabs you by the nape of your neck, and licks you clean.
I feel sick.
I wish someone would clean me.

My mother asked me:  
"What was he thinking?"
"What did he see?"
I couldn't tell her.
I couldn't speak.
I wanted the words to fall.
I wanted them to be free.
I couldn't think.
I just kept staring.
Blankly.
Hoping the moment would pass me by.
And that my mother wouldn't ask me why.
"What does he think of you?"
Why don't you ask him?
God knows I don't know.
Everything's a question,
up in the air.
Everything's uncertain.
Everything's unfair.
He keeps on sleeping.
And I keep on dreaming.
It reoccurs to me,
that somehow I keep breathing.
I can't be the only one who doesn't know we don't exist.
Who feels we've lost ahold of this.
My mother asked me.
I couldn't tell her.
I couldn't speak.
Will you tell me
so I can tell her
what you think?

The sea separates our skin.
We feel closer to moon
then begin to bleed again.
Pulling ourselves in two.

Hearts and minds,
I promise you
I won't resist
or turn away in time.

You remind me of a place I knew
With no street lights
interstates
or signs.

Who knows where we are going?
Who knows what we will find?

Take a deep breath in.
Try not to drown yourself.

I hate to see you scream.
Your pain turns to suffering so quickly.

I am trying to help you here.
But you see me as ghost.
A darkened figure in the night.
Who holds you like a rope.

You live in constant fear.
Claim what’s beneath your bones.
Aim for his heart with a sharp arrow.

All we have in the end is our spines
and sternums.
The rest we leave to an exhausted sun.

What moves your body,
may not move mine.

I felt the scratch of your unshaved face against my palm and my hand moved up along your cheek.
Your bones were resistant.
I twisted my fingers.
In the space just above your ears: a thick mass of russet brown that continued around.
I clapped my hand over my mouth and listened to the sounds of you sob.
(No wait, that was me)
I hoped that you wouldn't be sick.
We were in the pitch-black.
This time I pushed memories of a grey cubicle into my mind.
Of the summer time.
The heat only bothered me when we were apart.
La Douleur Exquise.
I don't think there is anything else to say.
We will have to wait six more months.

I called. But you did not answer.
I left.
Said "I am ready"
Therefore, I love you.
I am caught between.
I have come from Point A to Point B-
Point A being days in the city.
Point B; it knows no bounds.
The distance between called.
I will give what I don't have.
Will be.
Angry.
I should know by now.
Foolish.
I want.
There is nothing more.
I have never been whatever this is.
I feel like loneliness.

I wish you were here.
It's late and I am lonely.
Somewhere, you have a collection of images.
I wonder when you look at them, what you think of me?
I think of you each time my heart beats.

When I moved to this town, I dreamed that one day I would own the little yellow boathouse that sat on the riverside (the one with the white trim) From what I heard, it was abandoned years ago, and no one in the town had bothered ever fixing it up, so slowly it decayed. But I always pictured myself making the repairs necessary to turn it into the beautiful home I imagined it once was. I would turn the corner room that faced the water into an office and spend my summers working on my novel.
But today, Caleb, the youngest son of the neighbor boys who lived in the house down the street told me it had been destroyed by an old oak tree that stood behind it. When he told me the news, he and I were standing out in the long driveway, my hands wrapped around my coffee mug.
‘There’s nothing here’ I thought. ‘Just him and I’ (and I was air) ‘so it’s just him here.’
I dropped off my cup inside and headed across town to see the damage. I reached the house by noon, and as I stood, staring out at what was left of what was supposed to be my home one day, I began to sob. I felt like a child. All of my dreams had been crushed, literally. The tree reminded me of a giant spiderweb, it was bare and it’s branches stretched out like long fingers, wrapping themselves around the house. Besides the river, the wind was the only sound I could hear. It whistled and howled at me.
I had given up the one thing that inspired me: my city. For this. A little house on the river. It’s like I ripped off my skin, and all that remained was my bones, and all they could do was clank together in the cold like a wind chime.
Everything was upside down. This is not how I imagined my life. I had nothing mapped or planned, but where I was now seemed so far away from where I envisioned myself being. Everything was unfamiliar to me, and it frightened me. All I wanted to do was take gasoline to whatever it was I had created here, and start a new. But this tipsy topsy life was mine, and I had to make do.


He picks me up in front of a family of statues under a green isling. The side of his car reminds me of crinkled paper, or mashed potatoes. We sit silently in the car at first, then he begins to tell about a woman he had encountered today. The word ‘*****’ comes out of his mouth so smoothly. But when I hear it, I feel it’s sting on me like wasps. Is there something to be said to prevent me from becoming that woman? (if i’m not already) A woman he hates? A woman he resents? A woman who’s dry in the morning and too boring in the evening? My tongue curls and I feel my stomach coil. Men use the word ‘*****’ to describe women who are strong. Women who are assertive. And when men feel threatened, or rejected or emasculated by a woman, all they can say is “that *****”. There is no male equivalent. There’s no word like “*****” for men. Sure, there’s ‘*******’ and ‘*****’ or ‘******’ but none of them feel as harsh. None of them sting like ‘*****’ does.


We pull into the long driveway, and pass the other neighbor boy who’s name I honestly can’t remember. When we get into the house, he pulls me into the bedroom.
“I need you” he says.
‘What’s the difference between want and need?’ I ask myself. There isn’t much we NEED. To eat. To sleep. To drink. I NEED a drink. He WANTS me. It’s a primal thought. Instinct. I am not a need, not really. But he knows how I think. He  know’s “need” works on me. Because I hear “need” and feel desired, until I’ve been had. And then I remember “need” means “want” and I remember “need” means he’s tricked me.
I think what we all REALLY need is a day. Spring cleaning for our insides. Be it your body or mind. For the housewives of Castle Creek, that means cleanses, and binging. For me, it means sitting down with a leatherback journal and a good pen. Scribbling down everything and anything that comes into my mind. No filtration. No distractions.

He finishes, kisses me on the cheek, and disappears. I’m left on the bed, my dress pulled up, exposed. And so, a few minutes later, after I’ve collected myself, I head down the hallway to the kitchen. I have become the woman I never wanted to be. The woman who’s making dinner for her husband as he sits and watches some terrible Tom Cruise movie. It makes me sick how average my life has become. ‘What a sad way to live.’ I think. Just like everyone else. But I am not everyone else. If I were, perhaps everything here would be so much easier. I am not the woman the people of this town want me to be. I am far too artsy. Far too independent. When I walk into the grocery store, people stare at me. As if they were looking at a wanted poster. The worst part of going to the store isn’t the weird looks. I’m used to that by now. It’s the music. Smooth jazz. It makes me feel like i’m in an elevator. An elevator that’s stuck, and i’m waiting for someone to come and rescue me. But no one’s coming. I’m stuck in Castle Creek. The world’s smallest, ******* elevator in the United States.

Today fall came and reminded me what it's like to be lonely.
Red leaves reminded me of his sharp cheeks and cigarettes.
Black coffee.
Blue grief.
The rain so heavy, and the wind howling.
His name taste likes sugar and rots my teeth.
The first letter resting on a plain gold ring.
I'll be waiting.
Grasping onto silence.
Under the same moon.
He is chasing midnight lights and drinking whiskey.
My soul calls for him every waking moment,
wandering the streets,
but no one responds.

My body trembles at the sight of shadows.
Fireflies flicker and flash above us.
Burning hands and hungry flesh.
A knocking begins.
My tongue pressed against my teeth.
"Why do we make things so complicated?"
Tangled and messy in the muscles of hearts.
I heave and hurt.
Early mornings. Little sleep.
Is this the purge?
I can’t remember the last time someone spoke to my skin.
Company is expensive. The price of a hot meal.
I ***** the faces of lovers on my wall with needles, and cover their mouths with tape.
Pressed up against isles of DVD’s.
Kiss me until you taste laughter.
I’ve never before felt so heavy.
Lungs shrinking, shrivelling.
Sockets are black holes now.
You never looked like just a man to me;
from the first time I looked at you
I saw poetry.

I wish that this man, this mannequin: would breathe.
(That he would kiss me passionately)
I wish that this man, this mannequin: would speak.
That he would call
(I would go running)
Pathetically.
I wish that this man, this mannequin: would show me.
Show me maps of this city
(I could fall asleep)
I know that he is listening.
For all a man (a mannequin) can do; is attend.
I am howling
(the wind wakes me in the morning)
I wish that this man, this mannequin: would stop (collecting)
I have a collection of moments that I let play in my mind
(On a movie screen)
The mannequin has me.
I revealed to him: red wine.
(I'm not sure he see's me)
I wish that this man, this mannequin: would be.

I thought I was prepared.
But who could have known?
You did this to yourself.
You put me on a shelf.
And sowed me.
A dress.
Showed me
who you really are.

In the dark.

When your fears come true
it is who is near to you
that you let out into.

You don't want to be
the man in front of me.

I don’t want to be
just another dolly.
Drinking tea.
With button eyes that do not see
what you are doing to me.

When you're angry
will you break me?

I am fragile.
Even at arms length.
I am porcelain.

Tomorrow is creeping closer. I can feel it on me like a mosquito. *******.
I wonder if it took enough if I could get dizzy?
Where are you now and what are you doing?
I imagine a woman who's gone grey. Who's loud but not angry.
Does she look like you?
I can't find you in her face.
Maybe it's hiding?
Behind liquor stains and foul breath.
I told someone yesterday
You are like unlike any man I've ever known.
You were a boy. But it's hard to picture you as anyone but who you are today.
Someday I hope I can call you by name.
There's an album playing.
I'm searching for the words you'll probably never hear me say.
They are between "pope will role" and "IPC"
I was warned. But no one knows you like I do. Not even me.
It's true that you've never been anything but.
You've told me again and again.
It's still early we say.
And fall asleep.
It's been so long since you've touched my face. I'm old and wrinkling.
Nobody's innocent she says.
Not even our hearts, wherever they may be.
Maybe they're running away?

Wrapped around the room is felted flowers that turn to white stars.
When the sun is in hiding, little mushrooms bring light.
It smells of fake flowers and another mother.
A small broom for a small room.
I'm sorry I missed you.
I was spending.
Sobbing softly into my high collared coat.
Watching the body
In its stillness.

When I was walking:
I stared at blackberries and the stains they left on the pavement.
I stared at stop lights & the city scape to my right.
I stared at the sky.
It's not empty.
The stars are still sleeping.
Dusk is here.
Night is coming.
They will wake.
Open their little eyes and look down at us widely.
When I was walking:
I thought of what I would name my children.
Thought of what we would be like in many years.
I couldn't close my eyes.
I could move my lips to the words in my ears.
Tap my fingers on my leg as if it were keys on a piano.
I grew angry with myself.
Refused to walk that way.
It's too late to be calling now.
To be complaining.
Once, there was a man who knew me.
Who I could tell my secrets to.
I heard his voice today, as I stood.
I wonder if I will be swollen shut in the morning?
Who will pry me open?
I have no energy to do it myself.
Last night I was awake.
I ran my fingers through your hair.
Do you know you snore and whisper little nothings into the air?
Sometimes I pretend it's my name.
Sometimes I pretend i'm not there.

How could my mind have deleted so much?
I remember ripping out pages.
The next morning, I scrubbed and scrubbed at my skin.
Please tell me there is some word that will fill this void?
That tomorrow I will be clean, and you won’t have forgotten me?
Should you turn away; i’m sorry.
That’s all I know how to say.
I feel as if I have doused myself with gasoline.
Maybe if I give it a day, you’ll come back to me and kiss me in a whole new way?
Liquid screams.
Liquid laughs.
Is there really such a space between us?
Or has my chagrin ripped at us to the point where we don’t even bleed?
Why won’t you answer me?
Am I really that nauseating?
12:53.
What can I do? I’m not blind to this distance.
I cannot pretend.
I’m slamming my hands upon these keys, breaking.
Is this how it ends?
If I sent you a photograph; my skin showing.
Would it fill this chasm?
I feel like a cavity.
I’m counting one, two, three.
"Until then"
I’ll leave you be.
Until you want me again.

I know I haven't been fair.
I have trouble standing still.
I write line after line.
Use up all my time talking instead of living.
Tomorrow I promise things will go differently.
I promise to just let things be.
I know I've said this before.
But I'm going to try, that's all I can say.
I need to stop expecting so much.
And start focusing on who you are now, instead of who I want you to be.
It's not that I don't like you this way.
In fact, I'm infatuated.
I know I speak my mind too easily.
I just want you to see you in the way I do. I want you to know that I think you're amazing. The way you kiss me. I hope you feel it too. It's almost as if when you do, you step back and take one look at me and see everything. All of my flaws and insecurities. I need to stop doubting. If you didn't want to be here with you, you would leave. I suppose that's the fear. But as someone once told me. Be prepared. Everything ends eventually.

I started a little fire
on the fire escape.
Felt it burn my tongue.
There was a creaking above me.
And white smoke below.
The creaking made me feel
guilty
lucky
and lonely.
All at once.
As it grew louder
it made me want to rip my hair out.
Maybe my heart too.
The fire has left me.
It bounced out into the street.
I saw four wheels run it over.
It made me think of when I smashed my fingers in my doorway.
Of when I used a plastic bag as an oven mitt.
I felt all of that
But this-
This was it.
That feeling you get-
When you wish he wake and hold you like he promised.

'Go around to the back door' you said.
'I hid the key under a sheet.
Go around to the back door
I know the gate is locked,
look underneath'
That night I was stumbling.
Clung to you.
Longed for my body.
For any other body.
I lingered somewhere in between.
Felt like someone had stolen me,
walked in my skin.
Who is this thief?
This robber?
'She was alive' you said.
Then what am I?
The next morning,
I had no memory.
I laid in bed all day.
You went away.
The silence was sickening.

Long and long I wish at night.
Rip slowly then we speak.
Until we wound, ruin, and bruise one another; let us sleep.
I feel the words sloshing in me.
Waded ashore.
Valley’s drowned.
I wish i would have known you and you would have known…
At two. At three.
Can you hear me smiling?
Insomnia emBEDded in me.
Hold me (down)
When the rain comes; gravity pulls.
Eyes foggy.
Soak me in ink.
Violently i’ll twist and crack.
You repeat it until it loses it’s meaning.

"If the moon smiled, she would resemble you. You leave the same impression of something beautiful, but annihilating."

This place
knows my body.
All my bones
may they be broken.
They don't long
to be shaken again.
My heart knows
these sheets and wooden floors.
I stand sobbing.
Won't you stop my suffering?
You hold me here.
You say you are
in fear.
If you only knew
the way my blood boils and aches.
Would you relinquish
your heavy hand ?

Did I forgive you too easily?
I tried to be angry.
But you have this effect on me.
I know it sounds silly.
As I sit here; smiling.
You said you were looking at me.
I wonder now what it is you were seeing?
I tell you all the time.
Won't you do the same?
Point out the little things.
There has to be so many.
I'm afraid one day I won't be the same and you won't want me.
That my body will have changed.
I want you to tell me I'm pretty.
I don't believe it's ever been said.
You've touched me. Made me feel you wanted me. Begging. But you've never really told me. I think you're amazing. But it's always me. I've got a goofy look on my face and I'm biting down on my index finger. Wishing you would say something. Instead. You kiss me, too hard this time. Are you trying to tell me something? Just say it. Please. Just say it.

I don't recognize you.
In the driveway.
Hidden behind shopping carts.
Underneath the orange glow of the street lamp.
The smoke coming from your cigarette is clear.
It's the silence that's suffocating me.

I dreamed of ou last night.
You stood on the opposite side of a street.
I called out to you.
But you didn't hear me.
When I approached you, you smiled silently.
Then kissed me.
I knew then and there, this couldn't possibly be reality.
And woke, covered in sweat.
Crying.

It was almost February and winter still hadn’t hit. I was beginning to
think that it wouldn’t arrive, and that spring was here. One evening as I was walking down the streets of the city I looked up to see a single snowflake falling down to meet my face. It was tiny and looked lonely, but a few moments later, it was followed by several more snowflakes. Sooner than later, the ground was covered in a white sheet of snow. and I was stuffing my hands in my coat pockets and pulling my hood on to brace myself against the bone-chilling wind. I made my way into a small coffee shop that was still open and was greeted by a short stocky man in his mid thirties with a dark, curly mustache and sleeves of faded tattoos.
“Hello” he said, his voice sounding deep and smooth. I pulled out my headphones that were burning in my ears, pressed pause on my phone and shoved them carelessly in my messenger bag.
“Hello”, I replied back with a slight smile, pulling my hands out of my
pockets and making my way to the counter.
The shop was small, but it had a staircase leading upstairs with more room for seating. The man who stood behind the counter continued to unpack small plastic covered packages, putting them away in cupboards and freezers. I pulled out my wallet from my bag and plopped it on the counter, feebly attempting to pull out my card with my hands shaking violently from the cold.
“What a night”, the man said, his eyes still focused on his duties.
“Hmm.” I said, nodding. “Can I get a 12oz mocha, please?” The man looked up from his package, and giggled coyly.
“Sure you can, sweetheart." He put the package that he was holding down below him, and began making the drink I had just ordered. My credit card held tightly in my hand, still shaking. There was awkward silence between us and I got the feeling the man understood I didn’t feel like talking. He finished my order, filling a small, white ceramic mug, and pushed it across the counter towards me.
“Anything else?”
I shook my head, implying no and handed him the cold card. He swiped it and handed it back to me, along with a receipt and a pen to sign. I signed the receipt, grabbed my coffee and headed up the stairs to my right. Upstairs, there was a large room with a dining room looking table and several chairs, and to the left, and a small hole in the wall with several cushions. I smiled at the welcoming spot, and took a seat. Pulling a small table up next to me, I set my coffee down, and rested my bag on the floor below me. The upstairs was completely empty. In fact; the entire shop was empty besides the man working downstairs. I took a deep breath in and let my head rest on some of the cushions behind me. Closing my eyes, I let out my breath and felt the warmth and the vast history of the shop run envelop me. I grabbed at the cup beside me and sipped at my coffee. It was still too hot to drink comfortably, so I set it down. Out of my bag, I pulled out my phone with the headphones still attached and scrunched into a tight tangled ball.
Untangling them, I placed each bud in my ear, and pressed play, continuing the song I had stopped when I had entered the coffee shop. I felt my eyelids grow heavy and I sunk deeper and deeper into the pillows around me, the smell of old books seeping into my skin. Finally, I closed my eyes, and after a few moments, was sound asleep.
When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was a man’s face, unfamiliar but comforting.
“Excuse me…” he said, with a wide grin.
I jumped with embarrassment; ripping my headphones out of my ears, although they were no longer playing anything. How long had I been asleep? And who was this young man? An employee of the shop? A customer?
“Sorry!” I yelped.
The man chuckled as I swung my feet around to the floor and pulled out my phone to check the time. Realizing it was dead, I scanned the room for a clock and with no success I asked the stranger “What time is it?”
He rolled up his sleep, and checked what to be a rather expensive watch. The man was dressed nicely, but nothing too formal. A clean pair of black jeans, a plaid shirt and a sweater over it. His hair, a dark brown looked thick and slightly curled. He ran his fingers through it as he responded. “It’s quarter past.”
“Past what?”
He blinked at me. “Eight…” he paused at my confused look. “A.M”
I gasped at the time. It was just past nine at night when I had dozed off.
Why did the short stalky man not wake me? Did he forget I was upstairs?
Maybe he assumed I had left, and just missed me doing so.
“I…I…” I stumbled upon my words. I wasn’t quite sure what to say, still
unsure who this man was.
“My boss told me you’d be up here.” He lifted my cup of cold coffee and
handed it to me. “I can get you a warm cup if you’d like. We don’t open for another half hour.”
I nodded, and with the cup in hand, the man turned and headed down the stairs. I gathered my things, smoothed out my shirt, tossed my hair to one side and followed the man down the stairs.
“My names Elliot” he shouted from behind the counter and the noises of the coffee machine.
“Ellie.” I shouted back.
A door swung open and in Elliot’s hand was a new cup of coffee.
“That’s a coincidence.”
I smiled nervously and took the cup from the man.
“Sit.” he said, nodded to a table.
I followed his instructions and set my cup down and pulled out a chair.
He stared at me for a moment as I stared at my coffee. After a long moment of silence, I started.
“I am so sorr-”
He stopped me and reached out, resting his hand on top of mine.
“It’s alright Ellie…really.”
I had a few questions but didn’t know where to start. So I let the silence
continue.
“My boss figured you needed a place to stay.”
I wasn’t homeless. Did I look homeless?
“Do you...have somewhere to go…?”
I nodded. “I’m not homeless…” I proclaimed. I couldn’t help but stare at
his hands. There was something different about them from the rest of the
man.
“I figured. You’re too well dressed to be homeless.” He smiled, and his
hands moved up and through his hair again.
“So, if you’re not homeless then what’s your story?”
My story? I didn’t have a story. I was a young single girl. Lonely. Living
on her own in the city. On her way home when a snow storm hit. I just stopped into the coffee shop to get warm, not to spend the night like some refugee.
“My story?”
“Yeah, your story.” he continued to grin at me.
I paused to think of an answer.
“I was just on my way home. Stopped in for a cup of coffee. Guess I didn’t
drink enough of it.”
He laughed at the comment, showing a set of pearly white teeth.
“Maybe it wasn’t a very good cup of coffee.” He glanced at the cup in front of me. I lifted it and took a sip.
“This cup’s better.” We both laughed softly, then found each other staring
for long while at one another.
“I’ll make sure not to tell my boss you said that.”
I took another sip. “I should probably go…” I said, standing up.
“Go where?”
“Home.”
He shook his head chuckling slightly. “Hang out. I’ll open late.”
“I don’t want to be more of an inconvenience than I already have been.”
Elliot reached out and took my hand in his, squeezing it softly.
“Ellie.”
My eyes grew wide, and I felt my heart beat quickly within my chest.
“Let’s not play games with one another. Stay.”
I pulled my hand away, and bit my lip.
“I can’t. I’m sorry Elliot.” I grabbed my bag from under the table, and thew
it across my shoulder. “Thank you…” I said, thinking of his hands but
staring at the blue in his eyes. I turned around, and pushed the door open.


---------------------------------------------------------­--------------------------------

It was Valentine’s Day (or as I like to call it “Singles Awareness Day” ) and my friend had dragged me out to this terrible bar in the suburbs  titled “Distraction” My friend, who was newly single and “ready to mingle” laughed when she saw the big blue sign with the name.
“That’s an ironic name” she said, snickering.
I nodded my head and groaned as we headed inside. She was right. What was this bar distracting me from? If anything, it was drawing more attention to the things I was supposed to be distracted from by just existing with such a name. My friend walked up to the bar, leaned against a stool and ordered something sweet. She asked me if I wanted anything, but I shook my head no. After a few minutes of small talking with her, and watching her sip at her watered down drink, I noticed a young man walking towards us. The bar was dimly lit, and I couldn’t quite make him out but I sighed and turned towards the bartender.
“*** and coke” I hollered out to the man. “Pour heavy!”
I stayed facing the shelves of drinks, the different bottles organized by color and type. Whiskey, Tequila, *****. Suddenly, I felt someone tap me on the shoulder and with a deep inhale, I turned; expecting some man with sleeked back hair and a bad tan to be facing me.
Instead, it was Elliot. Staring at me, standing inches from my face. I took a step back into a bar stool, and fell into a seat.
“Ellie” he said, smiling.
I couldn’t help but smile for a moment too, but then I quickly wiped it away as the bartender slid my drink to the right of me. Before I could do anything, Elliot placed a few dollars on the counter.
“You don’t have to -“
“It’s fine”  He continued to smile widely.
I looked around the room for my friend, she was across the room playing darts with some broad shouldered man. I took my glass, placed the straw on the counter and gulped down about half of it in one drink.  
“Happy Valentines Day” he said, almost sarcastically following the statement with a slight laugh.
I felt myself smiling again and took another gulp. The bartender definitely poured heavy. The liquid burned as it slid down my throat, and I clenched my teeth. I could tell Elliot was trying hard not to laugh.
“Would you like to dan-“
I bursted out laughing.
“Dance? Oh god, please. Don’t do this Elliot.”
He stared at me widely for a moment. “What are you so afraid of Ellie?”
I scoffed, and shook my head, taking another drink I responded
“I’m not afraid of anything”
He blinked at me, then ran through his fingers through his hair and breathed out loudly.
“Is it me?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer this, or what he was really even asking. I stumbled on my words, stuttering. I finished my drink, and set the glass down on the counter.
“Another?” he asked.
“No...” I paused. “Thank you”
He stared at me for a moment, his brows furrowed. He reached out to touch me, and I pulled away.
“Ellie...Let me-“
I interrupted him and shouted out “space!”
He looked puzzled, then chuckled.
“What?”
“I’m afraid of space”
“Space....? Please elaborate.”
“Like the sky, and the planets and the stars and ****”
He laughed softly. “And ****...”
“Think about it. We have no idea what’s out there. We have no idea what’s coming for us. We are so small, comparatively.”
“So you believe in aliens?”
“I believe in possibility”
“Anything could happen.”
“Exactly! Right now, as we speak, the sun could explode.”
“Or, aliens could invade!”
“You’re really stuck on the alien thing.”
“It’s a possibility”
We both sat in silence for a moment, his eyes felt heavy on me. I stood up from my stool, our bodies were almost touching.
“I’ve got to go see if my friends OK.” I said, glancing over at her. She was still playing darts with the broad shoulder man. He had his arms wrapped around her, ‘showing’ her how to hold the dart now.
“She looks like she’s doing ok to me” Elliot said with a snicker.
I didn’t argue.
“What’s your last name?” he asked.
I shook my head violently. “Look, Elliot. You seem-“ I stopped and thought of how I wanted to finish my sentence, but before I could, Elliot grabbed my hand and held it tightly.
“Ellie. I’m just a man. I’m not some comet coming down or some alien race a million light years away. You don’t need to be afraid of me.”
I took a few shallow breaths, my heart was pounding. I tried pulling away, but Elliot just pulled himself closer to me.
“You said you believe in possibility. You can’t deny the possibility of you and me.”
“I...”
He reached up, and tucked a hair that was falling down my face behind my ear then stepped back, letting go of my hand.
“I have an idea.”
“What’s that?”
“I want to help you conquer your fear”
“Oh?”
He grabbed my hand again and pulled me towards the door, I looked over to my friend, but didn’t fight him.
“She’ll be okay.” he said, still tugging me.
I followed him out the door and down the street. We stopped and hailed a cab, as one pulled up, he opened the door for me.
“Get in.”
“I don’t even know you. You could be taking me to some wear house to **** and ****** me!”
“Ellie. Don’t be so dramatic. Get in”
“Where are we going?”
“To the moon.”
“And back again?”
“We’ll see. Maybe once you get there, you’ll never want to leave.”
“It’s a possibility”
I stepped inside the cab, and so did he.

------------------------------------------------------------­--------------------------------


Once we were in the cab, the rush of excitement I was feeling in the bar and in the street had faded. Elliot handed the man his phone, which had an address written on it. The cabbie put the address into his GPS and started the meter as he drove on.
“So are we taking the cab to the moon? Or are we just taking the cab to NASA and then a spaceship to the moon?” I said sarcastically, my voice breaking from nervousness. Elliot put his hand on my leg, and sat back into his seat without saying anything.
“Who’s paying for the cab Elliot?”
He continued to be silent. I turned at stared out the window, I noticed the cab was taking us out of the city and I began to get a little worried.
“Can you please tell me where we’re going?” I asked quickly. I looked back at Elliot, he was sweating.
“Elliot? Is everything OK?” His eyes were shut and his breathing was heavy.
“I’m afraid of things in motion.” he muttered softly.
“Isn’t everything in motion?” he opened his eyes, raised his brows and then smiled at me.
“I mean, the world is always turning and we’re walking, or breathing. So we’re moving, no matter what-“
“Can you be quiet please?”
I looked back out the window again for what felt like a long while. Finally, the cab stopped in front a large abandoned dome like building in a town I had never been in. Elliot was quick to exit the cab, and circle the car to open my door. I stepped out, Elliot paid the driver and the cab drove away.
“So you ARE going to **** and ****** me?”
Elliot looked at me, and took my hand.
“I’m sorry about in the car. What mean by things in motion is like, cars and trains and planes and...” he paused, “and ****...”
We both laughed.
“I knew what you meant. I’m sorry if I was being difficult.”
He gave me a look and I nodded at him. He took me by the hand and led me closer to the building. We reached a door that had been boarded up.
“This doesn’t look like the moon...Or NASA...”
“Ellie. Do you trust me?”
“I...I don’t really even know you so-“
Elliot pried back at the board, slipping into the building through a small space and pulled me inside with him. The room we stepped into was a circle, and in the center; a large telescope.
“Does that even work?”
He squeezed my hand, then let go. Approaching the telescope, he stepped up a small set of stairs to a control panel. He pushed a few buttons and a few moments later, I heard a whirring and a low rattle followed by a deep sound. I felt a slight vibration and suddenly the roof was opening above me, exposing the night sky. On this night, the stars were bright, and the moon was full.
“Come here” Elliot called out from near the telescope.
I started to shake only slightly at the sight of the sky above me, I felt frozen and tense, as if I couldn’t move. Elliot made his way down the stairs and towards me.
“It’s okay Ellie.” he said, reaching for my hand and guiding me towards the telescope. We stepped up the stairs, and he stood next to me, still holding my hand as he adjusted a few things, looking in the telescope, then at me, then back through the telescope. He turned towards me, nudging me.
“Go ahead.”
I looked at the giant metal telescope, and shook my head.
“I really appreciate what you’re trying to do here but-“
He put his hand on my lower back, and pushed me towards the telescope.
“Just look.”
I put my face close to the telescope, an

I sent you the moon
And you didn't respond.
I think you were too drunk to.
I wonder what else you forgot?
If you had hands for another?
I would forgive you.
But please
Don't tell me the truth.
I can't imagine her.
In a hotel room.
It makes me sick too.
Maybe if I lay my head down?
Maybe if I listen to some tunes?
I trust you.
So why am I making up memories?
All I can think about is
the moon.
And why didn't you-
Please
Don't tell me the truth.

Last night - I couldn't breathe.
(You wanted to know what I was thinking)
Last night - I couldn't see.
(You wanted to know if I was hurting)
Honestly - I tried to be honest.
Truthfully - I tried to get to the point.
Instead I danced and danced and danced.
Why won't you dance with me?

find me at the bottom
in the disorder
i'm just stuck in this spot
forgive me if i'm ever on my knees
you are a cliffhanger ending
and i'm the one who doesn't know anything
you're making it hard for me
i'm anticipating
til I fall asleep
please don't lose hold of me
i'm not a lost cause
what you've given me is more than i can say
wish i could explain
i know i lose my heart so easily
tell me when you feel ready
sooner or later
i'll stay right here
till you're right here

If you ever think of me-
(If there were such a thing)
My eyes would glow so sweetly.
I would stop circling the things I want,
then start grabbing the things I need.
You would be the first thing.
What would I be?
You would the last thing.
There are no words
For what you mean to me.

What does your mind say when no one is listening?
In mine, there are butterflies that escaped my belly.
They swarm inside me, and turn to bees.
When you're not with me
I can hear them buzzing.

I'm addicted to possibility.
The first time I met you-
I will try again tomorrow.
To not forget you.
I'm addicted to capability.
I will try again.
In the morning
After i've grieved you.

I don't want to feel the rain on my skin anymore.
I don't want to wait.
It feels like a thunderstorm.
Like the wind is laughing at me.
These things happen-
Naturally.

It's hopeless.
I tell you these things-
I just want to know.
That you won't let me go.

*This feeling I get when you're near
I'd give up gravity to feel

Don't you want me?
All I'm hearing is the rush of the cars behind me. You're standing in the doorway, and I'm lying down, the covers pulled over me.
Don't you need me?
I'm smiling. You're smiling.
I'm almost laughing. You make me gitty. But all I feel when we're together is something pulling us apart. Am I one of many? If this weren't a test, if I went away for a few days. I mean, really went away-would you miss me?
Another car passes. Then a siren. Have I died here in this darkness? In this loneliness? Where I'm laying on my side? Where you're not touching me. You kissed my cheek. One. Two. Three. Times. I wonder if you could feel me grinning. If your lips could as they touched me ever so briefly understood everything. Something changed today. But yet, everything stayed the same. It's starting to feel like I can predict every moment with you. And still, each kiss feels new. There's something about us. It feels like a fresh wound. I'm fascinated by the way it oozes. I keep staring at it. I want to lick the blood, taste metal, like it's the first time. I was pressed up against a wall, and I looked over. I was walking, we sat down on a bench. It was almost summer. I looked over. Everything was so uncertain then. So unobtainable. You were standing there & I wanted to kiss you. But now that I can. And when I do. You feel so far away. Reach out to me as I did to you. Touch me. Tell me. I tell you all the time. I know I shouldn't wear my heart on my sleeve, but it's too late. You've got your hand wrapped around my bicep, and your pulling me closer and closer to something that keeps moving away. Eventually. Will we get there? Please say something! Anything! I assume. I know that makes an *** out of me. I don't know anything. But something in the way you look at me tells me this isn't forever. That it's only temporary. How long can temporary be? My arm is tingling. You're asleep next to me. I don't think I'll let you read this. I don't think I'll let anyone see this deep into me. Last night I was crying when I called you. You said you looked at the phone. I'm not sure what would have happened if you had answered. What would happen now? If I stopped writing, and started sobbing? Would you hold me?

Nothing changed,
just returned to the way it was before.
Before five nights.
One day.
Then suddenly,
we weren't the same.
You're dragging your feet.
Must you drag me?
What am I worth?
If anything.
Chaos came knocking and we answered.
I went mad
trying to find your face in the dark.
You said you would stay.
Instead, you depart with good news.
You've known me.
Seen my skin.
Felt it sweat.
Watched me tremble.
Ache until I can't ache any longer.
Still, you wait.
What are you waiting for?
I am here. I have been. Will always be. I am here. Take me.

The sound of the buzzer at three in the morning.
Deep sobbing
I wanted to fall to my knees.
Instead I called again and again until you answered me.
Sat on the bathroom floor,
howling.
I told you everything.
I could barely breathe.
Everything was fuzzy & my eyelids felt heavy.
The next day I saw the things he said to me.
I crumpled like a piece of paper.
Sank into my sheets.
A woman made me breakfast that morning.  
I wasn't okay, but I pretended to be.
There are too many to count.
All on my thigh.
My lover will see eventually.
And he will run & hide.
Why do I do these things?
One moment a man's got such a hold on me, the next I'm in another city.
Another mind entirely.
He's playing songs for me.
Kissing me in the only way I know how.
Who knew this one had a name?
"What's your favorite?" He asks me.
He's smoking cigarets & drinking whiskey.
I can feel the bit of red in his beard scratch at me.
"Say goodnight before he finds red on you." I tell myself.
"Say goodnight before he says goodbye."

We are a sickness sometimes.
It has never been so easy.
I spent hours staring at a tiny screen.
I couldn’t stop spilling.
These hands still trembling.
Six months since I saw you.
There is relief in this.
In this moment; this memory.
Tuesday never came, not really.
Tonight we breathed heavily and I listened to you laugh.
It lifted something off of me.
I am so afraid that time will tell me nothing but ’I told you so’
That winter will come, and we will melt away.
I can only remember harvest gold.
It won’t come back to me.

"I am drowning in negativism, self-hate, doubt, madness."

Six Cigarettes
My Stomach Churning
Sipping
For The First Time
In A Long Time
Watching
Yellow So Bright
And Mellow
A Strike
To Match
In The Night
This Is Where I Release
Where I Am Relieved
I Open Myself Completely
Only Laughter Exudes
I Didn't Mean It
You Lay Horizontally
Pull
Flip
It Aches
I Twitch
Strumming
Come And Kiss Me
Sometimes Life Is Romantic
But Not Always
Sometimes Life Is The Disease
Come And Lay With Me
I'd Rather Not Be Lonely
You Know Me Already
In My Marrow
It Stops
I Won't Call Myself By Name
I've Told You almost Everything
You Tell Me
Nineteen
Quite The Impression
We Both Escape
The Room Is Foggy
Sometimes We Are Restored
Come To Me

I found myself comfortably slipping back into the skin I used to wear. When I loved a man fiercely and from afar. It was so easily, and fitting. But something was different? Perhaps it's as if I knew now, as I never did before, that this was just a gown. And that there were plenty of other gowns I could be wearing. Some of satin and lace. Some of cotton or wool. Suddenly, I realized how scratchy this skin felt. Had it always been so rough? I slipped out of the skin-and hung it up in my wall like a velvet black dress. 'Does that even fit you?' The words rang in my head. They were jarring and accusatory. I crawled into something warmer. Something new. It smelt of magic soap, the kind that came in a bottle covered in scriptures. 'This is better' I thought, with an unfamiliar grin on my face. I thought it to be odd. Even more odd that it felt genuine. 'This is much better'

I sit and smoke on the steps.
I sit and smoke my fears away.
All of my insecurities.
I try and blow them your way.
I hope you'll catch them.
I know you smell them on me.
They're bitter and rotten.
A moment ago - you turned off the light.
Pushed me on my side.
I craved one more in that moment.
But it was empty.
When I woke; the room resembled it in this way.
I remember a kiss.
Then like a dream; you faded away.
I walked with soft feet afraid I would wake those below. That they would hear and know.
I tiptoed and breathed in what was left of you. In pillowcases. In sheets. In t-shirts. You lingered.
In my jean jacket - so did my insecurities.
I was hoping if I slept in until the sun came. You would join me. That you would seep into me & wash away anything foul & ugly. But you left me in the morning. And I was left craving once more again. The smell was so pungent. You could see it coming out my pores. It almost screamed.
It did scream.
It screamed.
Hold me.
Tell me.
Want me.
Need me.
Unwrap me.
Don't throw me away.

"You are my favorite poet" he says
Then curls himself around me
I sit and lick the sugar from the glass
Saturated in self pity
I like the way he looks at me
It's almost as if he's pressing his eyes against mine
My chest feels tight
My stomach churns
I don't want him to go
But he can't stay here with me
Maybe he's right?
Maybe I'm comfortable being alone?
Being sad?
Being un
comfortable ?
I ask him what he means
Its morning
I should know by now
Not to ask questions in the morning
His eyes match the fog now
And we both reek of yesterday
His oversized sweatshirt keeps me from shaking
I still tremble
There's silence that you could cut like a knife
I take off the sweatshirt like I'm shedding my skin and head into six thirty
Sniffling
I feel blind
Afraid
I'm not sure what of?
He's not him
But he sure snaps like him
With big goofy teeth
I'm all chewed up
It's too early for this
It's always too early