“You’re perfect
You’re perfect
You’re perfect
You’re not”
All these beautiful things negated by complications
I need to be worth the skinned knees and bloodied lips it takes to get to me, I didn’t ask to be up this steep incline, I’m sorry for the trip, I’m sorry it’s hard

Close enough
Is close enough
Enough?

I never know how to take you
So I just take you anyhow

I've been accused of witchcraft
by others, you're not the first
as if there has to be something magical
otherwordly
about what I do to you..
because how could it be
simply
that I make you happy?

If it's that fragile
then let it break

I want to love you
and be yours and know what that feels like
today I got lost in the thought of kissing you
and that hasn't happened in so long...

but then the panic attacks
start in the shower
and I'm scared
and you might go away
you might

I have to trust that maybe
you won't
but it has to be okay
that you might

You know how
a shattered windshield
will keep it's shape
even when it's in a million pieces?
Are we all kind of like that?

they're nice boys
don't mean me any harm
I'm probably the not nice one
offering something I never intend to give
something I don't even think I have
maybe they know I don't have it
see the emptiness in my eyes
hear it in my voice
maybe we're both hoping we can find it
somewhere in there
help me dig

I kiss lips
and lips
and lips
I touch bodies
and bodies
and bodies
and I'm still empty
even you couldn't fill me

I must be self service

both of them
have the same tattoo

it's not that I like my boys
broken
but rather men who know
that they can break
and put themselves back together again

There are days
it feels like
my life
is just a string of apologies

He likes to do things that scare him.

Like me for instance.

Floating in and swimming out
begging the tide to do its thing
afraid it just might

I think I finally understand
walls

Every word has a price tag,
every discussion a receipt

I'm not sure I'm ready to pay what I might have to pay to say what I say but it needs said.

I take a deep breath then I look at your face
are you my opponent or my friend
sometimes I can't tell.

One of us has to come out on top
one is paying and one is collecting and
today
I'm not ready to pay.

Fresh page, fresh year
I've scrolled down to a white screen
Fingers on keys
Ready to strike
Can't wait to see what happens next

can't sleep
my head full of him again
so I pull up the link
hear you quietly singing Molly into my ear
strumming your guitar
and it makes me smile
I think you might be the answer
at least you might
and that's enough for now

There are worse things
than a broken heart
but to a romantic
to a poet soul
it's fuel, it's fodder
we keep scratching the scab off
and fingerpainting in the pool of our own blood

the roots reaching down for water
blindly seeking it out in the dark
the sprouts reaching up for light
stretching toward it as it moves
I am reaching, stretching
in the dark and the light
and it feels so good

you were an education
that I'm still paying for

so hot you're almost steaming
dark and brooding
I love how you fill my mouth
as you tickle the back of my throat
you taste a little sweet
and a little spicy if I'm honest
that flavor that I've never found anywhere else
I hold you in my hands
I feel your heat, your possibility
I wrap my body around you
and take you in

full disclosure
I hold some secrets
full disclosure
I don't think I'm ready for this.

But your ghost ship
tempts me beyond all reason
and I have permission to board

I was sure of you, sure of this and now it's a past thing
a thing that isn't my now or my tomorrow.

My tomorrow is wavering ahead of me in the distance
like a hot highway melting into the sun.

Nothing takes shape, it's all liquid and shifting images

strange creature, this hope
it creeps up behind you
and tickles your spine
you swat it away
but like a determined cat
it winds around your ankles
demanding your attention

Swinging on the trapeze
the crowd below calling out
telling me not to grab his hands so quickly
learn to fly on my own
but I need hands to hold onto
even if they are new
and I don't recognize the feel of them

I don't want the D
but I need the D
I think
it's big and scary and hard
It's just there, my fingers brushing over it
I can't seem to make myself..
it's just the D
but it makes love turn into loveD
I'm afraid it's past tense now

I made it that far
did not reach out
stretching further all the time
I'm getting better
bit by bit
giving up your drug
hit by hit

Have you taken my robe from the hanger
my lotion from the bedside table
my toothbrush from the cabinet
the owl mug, things that were mine
things that remind you
have you erased me
yet
or do you remember
bodies intertwined
laughter
you sitting across from me in the hospital lobby
my hair in your hands

validation in a right swipe
finding maybes
finger on glass, left left left
I can't find what I'm looking for
because I know right where it is

up there in the dark
every movement is honest
my heart's wide open

I don't know where you are right now
but I can see your face, the way you push your hair back
I love your face
and I don't know
maybe I shouldn't, maybe I should be trying to forget
and I will later today
try I mean
and try to forget that tonight I should be wrapped in your arms, in your bed
but right now I'm thinking of your face and how lovely you are

I just realized
I can't remember the sound
of your ******

are you changeable, oscillating
do you have moments of bliss
others of dark insecurity
interspersed with stretches of blank indifference?
Or is that just me?

We are in uncharted territory
and my cartography skills are lacking
do we blindly forge ahead or go back
do I trust the bliss or the indifference
I feel the deep sea pressure of time
why do we think we can afford to wait?

you say I'm forward
as opposed to backward I suppose
upside down, right side up
but I just need to get lost

not think about to do lists
and appointments
and IEPs
and solving the mental health riddles
of these people I've created

I want to feel like I'm normal

so let me get lost, forward and backward
in your bed or my bed, your skin and my skin
I need to not think about tomorrow
tonight

Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes
in my head before I can collect my thoughts
a timer, tick tock, tick tock
my life the hands on a clock
moving faster now

why do I care
I'm getting what I came for
I don't get to decide when, I never did

Speak your truth, like it's easy, like it wants to crawl up your throat and jump from your mouth, to splatter and splash everyone and everything
Speak your truth, like you do, like you will, let it soak through your skin like so much sweat
It's not easy to open, to pull back the sheet metal, your hands will blister and bleed, but pull through the fear, because you're there underneath, dressed only in your truth

That's my job, it's what I do
assign a number to your pain
to get a bill paid
like that's all it is, a number

But I'm happy to use that code
instead of another
that you made it somehow
to tell the doctors
you regretted it the moment you did it
and they all say that

this isn't the right job for me, I take a bit too long
because when I read things like your story
I have to stop, take a sip of my coffee
close my eyes
and think of where you are, which room, which bed
and send you thoughts and energy and anything I can muster
I don't believe in things like that
generally
but it's the only thing I can do

I'll always remember the sister
asking if he'll play guitar again
not understanding what brain dead is

I'm a self flagellator with a long
memory
I collect my whips carefully
with painful precision
I love you like a poet
you love me like a mathematician

I remember that night
mouth dry, my stomach a lava lamp
the words bubbling up to my mouth
I asked you to marry me
and you said yes
but on further reflection
it turned into no

I reach for your hand first
Said I love you first
But I always do
Life is complicated
and we're not 22

so I keep coming by
complicate me to uncomplicate you
hoping you'll finally see what I do

French fries with mayonnaise
Taking off shoes just to put them on again
Listening to the Cure
Wondering where that girl went

I keep going the wrong way
am I too far gone to change direction jimmying locks, trying doors
more closed than open now

I'm not sure which is true
Those days I don't care or
These days that I do

Are all those kisses
Trying to convince me
Or trying to convince you

You say "I love you"
I say baby, I'm lonely
Lost in translation

Where's your head at
(song stuck in my head)
Where my head is at
is
this rabbit hole of upside down thinking
What does it feel like to go crazy?
Do we get warnings or just ****** through
like the air we're made of
this tenuous hold on reality, on normal
how close we are to being un, ab

synchronized drowning it looks like swimming
it looks like I'm treading, it looks like I'm living
I seem light but I'm heavy
an anchor in hiding
and the only thing you'll get
by swimming in my vicinity
is pulled under with me

Anger
With an underlying impotence
Fists clenched but nowhere to throw the punch
Turning it inward
Darkness growing like an oil spill

staring at the blank page until it envelopes everything
the words stopped up at the faucet
Watching the hands chase each other but they never get tired.
Fall winds rattling windows but they can't shake the words from my head out to my fingertips..
instead the thoughts bounce around each other until nothing makes sense

there are those days
when you feel like you're holding on
to the cold metal rail on a merry go round
like the ones from an old playground
someone pushing it faster and faster
and you feel like you could let go and just fly away
but you hold on
because flying away is scary
who knows where you'll land
so you hold on, laughing and screaming
like it's actually fun and not terrifying

I bought two porch chairs
When I only needed one
Hope springs eternal

I love when it's sweaty and hot and heated
and I can taste it on your lips
when skin slips and moves against skin like it's not even skin but a slippery eel of a person
like it's not the outside of both sliding against each other but the insides, the good stuff, the real stuff
slipping and slapping against the other as it tries to metamorphose and become the one thing it's always wanted to be
not the separate thing that keeps being separate and slipping away