i feel so guilty when i hold you
to your word.
              ( you said you'd be here! )
but today i kissed the grave of my past
and wept for the girl i was
as you caught up
on much needed rest --
              but why did you stay up so late
              the day before you promised
              to stay?
. . .         . . .         . . .         . . .         . . .         . . .
i don't need you to cherish me every day,
i promise! i promise, i promise, i promise!
              but today ... would have been easier
              with you, here.
              your laugh,
              a pleasant distraction from reality.
              your voice,
              a pleasant distraction from myself.
oh well,
      there's always next year.
             i hold myself a little tighter.

lately, it seems when you call you speak you mind,
motion to hang up before i can even consider mine.
do i exist simply as a gateway for you to speak?

my lover leaves me lonely,
my best friend soon to be alone on a plane
back home to me; tape him up in bubblewrap
beg him never to leave

so much time is spent in this room
isolated enough to warrant yellow paper
still, the textured white walls seem sentimental
they do not feel as big as the bed

it is so lonely without you, darling
but even when you are here,
it remains so empty
i reach for you in the night.

try as i may, even when you linger
you are so far, my darling,
too far to reach; too far to hold.

and i find you only see me once i turn away.
is it my eyes that alarm you, so full of emotion?
or do you want me just close enough for warmth,
but not close enough to listen to?

the broken furniture holds your motion,
still are the shadows that hold your shape,
and i cling to the pillow that isn't quite your length
but it will let me hold it; it will let me love

i picture you in the shower,
borrowing shampoo, speaking of coconut cream
and my dreams are only tinted memories
are you leaving me in the chill of the air conditioning?

perhaps i'll never know until you finally close the door;
the season has only just begun, my darling
there are so many half hours still to yearn for you;
i'll be quiet and laugh at your commentary until the credits roll

i'll quietly await the sudden goodbye.

(pretend to sleep an extra hour)

tell yourself it's to be safe
but you're waiting on a call

or a text
or an email
or a letter

or a friend

you're waiting on connection
from a plane that never lands

(lay there just another day)

check the time
it's the witching hour

and you're cold
and it's dark
and the world feels hollow

waiting on connection
from a plane that never lands

waiting on the wishes
and the canceling of plans

every-body but me
every body but mine
the death of a star,
i burn my brightest for you
[in the hope we'll intertwine]

why is it that she's so much prettier than me?
i flash back to a school dance,
to the image of her,
half clothed and dancing in her dorm

does she do it for you?
do i? would i? could i try-?

why is it that i'm so insecure when the habit breaks?
like you're loading a new save and i'll be replaced,
[like i'm the memory of a shirt you know you used to have.]
did you give it away? did you lend her to a friend?
did she come back stained and tattered,
balled up and laying on your floor?
is she attracting all the moths cause you don't want her anymore?

maybe i'm naive; maybe i place too much energy
in words -- in the building blocks that form life
that form like castles in the sand; or castles in the sky,
i'd love to change the ending, but you were never mine

Long walks and promised collaborations,
An outlook you've kept to yourself.
You watch that web-series I referenced,
And, of course you have, it's just like you.

I had vivid dreams about the apocalypse,
(In the biz, we call this foreshadowing.)
And looking back now, I wish that I could --
Wish that I had never met you. (I can't.)

Unfortunately, you're intrinsic to the human experience.
Like the red flag that tempts the bull,
You've caused all this motion in me,
but this was never meant to be more than humorous.

Long walks and written songs,
Upon receiving time and effort
locked away in a ziploc bag,
we talk about meeting parents properly.

And we don't know that the end is near.
And we don't know you're friends with the devil,
You won't stay by his side, but you find a way
To hand his sins to me, pretending they're mine.

---

And I wasn't perfect,
But do you ever think about what he did?
Did your two-faced thespian ever tell you
that I never once lied?

Did he stroke your ego ?
Did he tell you how he used to curse your name,
Just for the chance of what you had ?

And did the devil, master of his craft,
Ever reveal the cracks in his story?

Did you learn too late?
Did you learn at all?

---

Four years have passed.
Do you still try to convince yourself?

---

When someone comes to you,
Helpless and alone,
Begging for someone to hear them,
Does my name taste bitter on your tongue?

When you hear the statistics,
When you know who it is,
Do you ever think about me?

It's been four years,
And you are happy.

And I, in all my disgust,
know that one day I'll forgive you.

---

And deep down, I know
You care not for what was done.

But I don't want you,
I want the floor.

The light pours in, and I've finally rested
The dawn is a welcoming view
I've kicked off the linens, for nothing compares
To the way I am warmed by you

Keep my eyes closed, memorize this moment
The way that your breath matches mine
And I can hear your smile through your voice
As our legs gently intertwine

How many nights did I spend hoping,
For a day that could feel like this?

The children stir from the other room,
And we cling to our "five minutes more"
The spell breaks as we stretch,
No match for their knock at the door

With smiles that crinkle at the edges,
With eyes that wrinkle in the corner,
You take on the challenge of breakfast,
As the chill begs me to dress a bit warmer.

And it occurs to me that this is it,
This is the way I knew it could be.

So, I sit content in my mirage of a marriage
Laughing at the smell of slightly burned pancakes.

And I marvel at
The phantasmagoria
That has become my waking life.

The lyrics I've written to encapsulate your presence
The inside jokes and the family first-meetings
The good and the bad and the nights left awake
Just Talking and Talking and Talking and Talking and
Sharing interests; movies, music, desires and dreams

And I . . .
don't know how to tell you
that I have no more wishes,
There's nothing left to rebuild.
There's no crystals and candles and meditation needed
to manifest what's since been fulfilled.

And the dawn is bleak as you take your time,
flowers bleed heaven and your love is mine.
The Gods turn their backs, they're unappetized.
But my baby sparks fire, and sips from my wine.

Would you as well,
Take shape of their youthful mistakes?
The rolling of thunder,
As our crescent moon breaks?

Trace hill tops for a purpose
Scan histories for my name,
You stammer through apologizes,
Will I alone remain?

is my mood ring broken?
or did i forget what it felt like
to know you?

i often wonder if i've numbed to it all,
but maybe my heater just stopped working.

all the same, i've forgotten the sound
of my name on your lips,
the air passing through, like a parting kiss.

so why let it be spoken at all?

is my mood ring broken?

all i'm feeling is small.

comforts and consoles, but understands
that a girl like me needs more than just understanding
relish in my sweet suffering,
oh, how i adore you.

call me your good girl,
call me your lover boy,
but do these words reflect me?
or merely my desire to be desired;
to be loved, cherished, adored.

am i a girl or do i like to be praised as one
do pronouns reflect my vessel or do i simply
wish to be the shape thats molded within your grasp,

(hold me, just hold me, don't worry about who i am.)

i didn't choose my name, but it gets the job done
i didn't choose my name, but it sounds good on your tongue
i think i just want to be addressed
i think i just want someone to talk to me --
which words with a slash cause that reaction fast?

am i a good girl? am i a pretty boy?
should i do more, be more, be like them
would it suit your fancy; would i?
who am i, if not a collection of "please" and "yes"

opulent confusion;
so many options but what fits? what do i try on first?
if my perception of how i'm addressed is "it works"
then who is it working for?
am i a girl?
am i a girl? am i a girl?
or did i just like the way it felt
did i just want to be looked at and examined
and deemed necessary ... and loved ... and seen.

god, i want to be seen
but what do i want to be seen as?
who do i want to be seen as?
who do i want to be seen with?
and where should i be seen? which parts of me?
examine me, aren't i pretty?
put me on display; hang me in your gallery

but who am i? who am i? who am i?

maybe i'm just faking it
maybe i'm nothing at all

sometimes i wake up with the stars i mapped out
caught in my eyes,
other days its a silent panic-
how many times have i had to fear my friends?

sometimes, like you, i hate the pet-names;
the way they crawl under my skin
as an excuse to not butcher mine.
but i would melt like wax wings to be your ‘baby’
just once, won’t you let it slip off your lips?

like honey?
like amber i'm begging to be trapped in?

how long has it been since my soft skin has been touched?
how long has it been since i last felt compassion
in the form of exploring hands
and gentle whispers?

so beautiful, so soft, so willing to listen to me as i

fall
like putty
into your hands.
into a love,
no longer mine-
oh, what would i give to be a lover?

lips full, never kissed
eyes open, never seen
ready to listen, but no words are spoken
no sweet nothings, but arms wide open.

what would it mean
to be held,
as the sun began
to rise again?

if i’m doomed not to sleep,
might i do it
with your name in mind?

if i’m cursed to stay awake,
talk to me until
the sun is in our eyes?

i would melt like wax wings.

would you have me then?
would you take my hand,
with the sweat on my brow?

would you have me now,
so bruised and tired?
with dark circles to balance
my rose-tinted outlook?
won't you hold my weary hand?
don’t be shy.

don’t pretend;
we both know i’m caught between daydreams.
aren’t you nothing but a hallucination?
i’m certain i’ve made you
up in my mind.
don’t be shy… don’t be shy.

the sun has vanished
and the world has run cold.

and i can't

remember a time i've run to you
for warmth, intimate or otherwise.

but in the darkness?
you're all there is.
or rather,
you're all i'd like to see.

so i sprint to the monitor,
blue ribbon in hand—
hoping for a moment,
you sense the urgency in my

[hello! :)]

and the ice is creeping up my spine
as i wait
for three dots that promise a reply

you shoot back

[oh hi.]

and the milk that once
enriched my bones
curdles
and i fall to dust;
nervous.

you hold a power that frightens me
your warmth, your chill, like heights

(i like the view, but cannot breathe.)

and would you, as well, compare the light
to an embrace?
the switch of grey to red to green,
like the caress of the abyss?

i want to be known by you.

(but cannot bare to be perceived.)

message those who deserve a good bye.
like i'm leaving oz tomorrow;
like i can live in my dreams
of february.

i want to be known by you,

but as messages pile up
i'm buried.

80, 190, 270.
texts, sexts, mirrors, enemies.
(wishes to be seen.)

one more message then back to
the problem at hand, so
shuffle the deck until you know
whats wrong with me.

i can't keep pretending my
notifications are off when i'm
waiting for your reply,
( & i'm flooded by noise. )

but i, among the hurricane
in the eye of the storm

ask to be known by you.

if i don't reach out
will you?

how long have i been standing here
the edge of the roof seems so high
and i've always been afraid of heights
but like the fool i feel i should leap

why won't the songs i love
fit the mood that i am in?

i keep pressing shuffle,
"surprise me," i ask the universe
that embodies my fingertip
as i press the button
over and over again

and i sit at the edge of the world
which is only a rooftop,
looking for the right song for the occasion

how can every sound feel wrong?

in this moment, i'm convinced
you've sabotaged my goodbye

so i stand back up, looking over the edge

it's only a ladder's length down,
but somehow climbing is scarier
than a fall could ever be
the pace makes all the difference.

so perhaps, i should just take
a couple steps back
and take a deep breath

and while the sky isn't blue
and i am alone with thoughts in my head
perhaps this might be a nice place
to paint a picture of what it is that i want

i feel like i'm constantly forgetting
who the little girl i wanted to be
had as an answer for the future

but one day i'll make her proud

her little smile is worth it

and maybe, that's what your sabotage did

it made me look away from the world
and into my head for a moment
and i've spent so many weeks clearing out cobwebs that i wonder
if it was your plan all along

you think of me often, but your hand
hovers over the button

press send. stop leaving it to fate.

i can only have 3-day lovers for so long

i still remember how it feels to run
my hands through misbehaving hair
cinnamon sighs escaping unkissed lips
as we discuss what's on your plate
before you fill mine with fresh fruit
and pancakes

why are you on my mind?

you've been a stranger far too long to be a friend

and yet i see you in my dreams

ask to kiss me in the dead of night
lazily lay an arm on my waist
and whisper out wishes for tomorrow

are you letting yourself rest nowadays?

are you still worried about your brother?

are you still in your head?

did he ever message you back?

do you still write songs?

did you unite your preponderances

with the sound?

or are you still sitting in your void

snapping to find the echo

within an empty room

cluttered with fancy clothes

and fairy lights?

perhaps your top hat sits upturned
among your sheets and ship
along with two copies of a tape
of a movie you don't care about

maybe you're shutting out the world
with parties you know are unsafe
to feel alive during the plague

do you still think of those two bears
on their bike, left to their own devices
in a little display where we could point
murmuring between camera clicks
that "that one's dressed like you!"
and "this one has my hat!"

do you still hate my guts for crimes
i never commited?

do you still want my father's job?

i still have a wrapped up piece of you
in a plastic bag in my bedroom
half hidden so i dont think about it

i have other means to get high,
so i never smoked it.

can we trade?

you don't need to say hello,

or to hold me as i cry.

but could i please have my stuff back?

i miss those safe pages i let you hold

i want the butterflies
glowing in my lungs
whispering nervous truths

i crave the breath
catching in my throat
warm bodies brought together

i'd **** for dancing
physical, verbal, tantric
never knowing who is leading
---
i miss first dates
the hopeful feeling fraught with nerves
fidgeting as you giggle at jokes that aren't funny

and all the learning,
favorite colors that grow to anecdotes
and then to second dates

all the time it's blossoming;
blooming into something real,
butterflies depart, letting only light remain

and i can stop the pining easily
love songs are vibrant; poetry melts hearts
but don't romanticize me
---
i've been the final girl at a haunted house
cleaning up bodies; exercising ghosts
i don't need your love to be full

i don't have another half, i'm already whole
and you can be my twin flame, if you won't fizzle out
i've had many matches that only left smoke
---
and if our love is a circus, and you are the clown
don't be surprised if i wait in the crowd
i'm done pulling teeth; and i'm tired of games
friend, lover, soulmate- i'm tired of names

i'm tired of labels that differ but all feel the same.
when i'm set alight, i'll be feeling no shame
and if you want all of me, i'll have no regrets
but don't string me along, i'm no marionette

You're golden,
The sun is your smile—
And I, a fool, stare until I'm blind.

You're glowing,
The Gods blessed your altar—
And I pray amongst flowers for your light.

Your hand is empty,
Mine barren; like Californian earth—
You're too far to reach, but my hand is outstretched.

(I'm not who you're looking for.)

You don't need to know my name,
But I,
Am half convinced I've made you up.

In my head,
Have I built you up?
Or am I just unsatisfied?

You don't need to say hello,
But I notice the way you
Murmur your words as you feel
All eyes through a camera lens.

I'm enamored by you.

And yet, we've never met.

I can't be the panacea you've
made me out to be.
I can't be the antidote for
what ails you, but I've tried.

I've tried so hard to heal
what I never hurt,
and it wasn't enough.

Where you see my name, I see the words:
"Down The Rabbit Hole."
( I ache for you, but hate your guts. )

I don't know how
you still have a hold,
but I never learned
how to let
go.

Wrote of red strings?
I was bound by you,
but you never showed me the truth.
*** smoke and mirrors,
that's all you gave
to me.

That,
and a selection of songs I
listened to
until they felt like my own.

And it was all fun and games
until you kissed me
to every song
I ever loved.

( How could you do something so evil? )

I can't get the taste out of my mouth,

I can't un-see the oranges you left to mold
On the kitchen sink.
Just like me,
Still waiting to be held or thrown away.

Just like me, growing green with envy
for who is seen for more than just
her packaging.

"What's the cute way to do it?"

Your impersonations hurt like Hell.
So cute. So beautiful. So glad I'm here.
So glad to see me stay a few hours more,
But you never heard me sing.

( Unless it was a song you'd play. )

Never a word meant for your ears alone.

You always thought
my poetry was about you,
so I'll gift you with this.
Bottled up pain;
The feeling of knowing the meaning too late.

I hope you're satisfied—

I only wanted you to understand.

But you've only ever ran.

My white rabbit; my Peter Pan.

When I needed you, you never came.
But I sense you, coming back.

I'm the ghost of the family tree;
I've pruned the branch that once held me.
And yet, in the absence of connection,
I find that I yearn for your voice.