i am continually alone in a crowded room
an immovable mass.
the time creeps
slow with a soft begging—a hard press.
it hurts my bones to sit still
and the time won’t move
won’t move
won’t move.
it doesn’t move ever
and i’m sick, bland, and alone
i don’t need sound to fill the space,
but this pains me in a way i cannot describe.
i have sat in crowded rooms with the pain pounding on my stomach
and i look like a strange life form that doesn’t belong
and everyone else does
and that’s why it is astronomically harder.
the silence is permanent; it will seldom leave my side
it’ll leave me in its wake and i’ll be a body
lost to the immense unknown of the ocean
wash up on your shore
and you can hold me
and you can tell me the quiet doesn’t make me who i am?
you said, “it’s not in your bones—the need to speak everything you feel”
and i just told that to myself because i have myself to hold.
my loneliness is everlasting and violent
i belonged and i ruined that image for myself.
my slow ability to start feeling like myself around people i adore
but i mess it up every single time.
i continually hold my tongue for fear of faux judgement.
THEY AREN’T GOING TO HURT YOU
THEY INVITED YOU PLACES
THEY CALLED YOU SWEET AND FUNNY
AND YOU MATTERED TO THEM
AND YET YOUR TSUNAMI WAYS DROWNED EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM.
YOU DESTROYED THEM.
YOU DEMOLISHED THEIR VILLAGES
AND DEVASTATED THEIR LAND.
YOU ARE EVIL.

there’s this boy who looks like my first celebrity crush
he’s taken by a beautiful girl
with cherry painted lips and a golden smile
oh, what i would give
to get lost in the labyrinth of blossoming love
to hear the accordion singing its recycled cheesy song
but it dives and curls and the wind is blowing in a strange manner
exhausted feelings catch up to me

there’s this boy who makes me scared for my soul because i like him so, but i’ve never met him
that’s how all my love songs go
nobody ever realizes
nobody ever knows
they always slip through my sweaty fingers
and their deep voices just become shallow echoes

there’s this boy who is the star in every show

there’s always the side character who pines
and never gets loved
it hurts to be so empty

every morning, i lose a little hope that you will love me.
there are weapons in my hands,
pointed straight at your heart.
will you love me if my temporary winter chooses to subside?
will you love me with my spring eyes and hopeful glances?

there are weapons in my arms,
pointed straight at your heart.
the night calls my name with her quiet lips,
her silent voice gliding through the busy streets,
straight into my soul.
will you love me if the distance only makes you guiltier?
will you love me as an extension of the adoration for yourself?

there are weapons in my heart,
pointed straight at your heart.
the morning kills me with her hands as i almost do to you;
unmistakably, regrettably, and embarrassed.
will you love me as i am, a summer child, with hopes as fleeting as the humidity?
will you love me if i cannot hide my fragility anymore?

i’m so ashamed to admit i’m too weak to love you.
but will you love me, without arms, without hands, without weapons aimed at mistakes, without window panes, without cold shoulders, without dying streetlights illuminating the bones of every fault, without shame, without killing me by accident, without drowning out the truth, without starving all the bad news as if it’ll just disappear, without eyes that burn through confessions, without flimsy notions, without sickness?
will you love me if the words refuse to escape from my prideful lips,
that i love you just the same?
will you love me even if the morning never comes, even if the winter keeps pushing its frosty thumb against the glass, even if the world around us keeps us knee deep in quicksand, slaves to our own habits of ‘run away’?
will you love me no matter the weapons i try to attack you with?—
i have no bullets, no sharp knives, no desire to harm you.
my inability of loving is violent in and of itself
so
every morning, i think less of who i am,
knowing i do not deserve to be loved
by you.

there is still time
to remember myself,
the happiest hours, the blooming trees.
there is still time to be someone.
there is still time to share my heart.
there is still time to remember who i was
before the isolation like a vine,
tied me up and kept me stranded.
there is no more of a reason to keep distress in my bed,
the villain disguised as an ally.
there is still time to believe and believe
as if the world never left me naked
and spiteful.
there is still time to give myself chances.
there is still time left to live even amidst the pressure.
there is still time to forgive,
there is still time to believe in myself
of all things.

your fists are like cannonballs
hard, closed
you trap me in the palm of your sweaty hands
crushing me
but the warmth is the only temperature i feel
so i stick by your disheartening side

one step and you’re there at my door. two steps and you’ve made your way inside. in my house. my doors were opened by a gust of wind and you stumbled in and i should have slammed you out, but i didn’t because i’m a coward. you’re a strange species. you’ve broken into my safe place, the soft place where i lay my head at night. you’re next to appear in my nightmares. a shadowy black figure standing inside my closet, lurking. being alone isn’t as lonely as i feel when i am with you. you punch my ribcage and i start to feel nauseous, but you just blame it on me. soon i will wreck your perfect life and send you crashing down the cliffside. soon i won’t give you the leniency and forgiveness i perpetually gift. soon i will lose focus and you will be blurry in my vision and i will forget you forever. soon, i will let you go.

isn’t it strange that we don’t name ourselves?
because if i had the choice, i would be named: the girl with wavy or curly hair that never belongs anywhere
or the girl who believes in God more than herself
the girl who fears rejection like it is Covid-19
the girl who wished upon a star, but is still waiting on her delivery
the girl who is senseless who knows nothing about anything
the girl whose best friend left her when she was thirteen
the girl who associates made up or distant people with safety and security
the girl who listens to too much music and it clouds her judgment
the girl who re-enacts movies after she sees them play onscreen
the girl who gets lost in Disney movies and doesn’t enjoy reality
the girl who died after eighth grade and is despising the high school experience
the girl who purposely curses herself on friday the thirteenth
the girl who lost her mind and has lost all her glory
eruption, disaster, ugly, failure, useless, dramatic, romantic, not even close to funny, unintelligent, boring, exhausting to be around, psychotic, waste of space, crazy
the girl who is anyone, but what my parents named me
the girl named…

the ocean swallows me.
this midnight is a still midnight,
where the birds don’t coo and the waves don’t move.

the emptiness is not the ruler of all.
the tides continue to wash over the beach.
each wash of water awakening its earthly daughter.

each blush in my cheek i was taught to be ashamed of,
every desire deserved to be stomped on, twisted at the bottom of a shoe.
each nightfall i am forced to be tamed.

a seafaring sailor, drunk on each lifeless wave,
carving through sea walls.
i once believed in magic, but i have grown up and i know

that every sickness is a truth revealed
that every doubt can drown you, child.
that every word i’ve interwoven in your story has kept you reading,

candle-lit and curious.
that every reason i once had goes out with the tides,
that every blessing has six bullets and a sharp knife.

that the sea can feel like home,
an immense calling that never ceases.
that the world alone is meant to burn

each finger, each word
that i could ever sing, speak, or whisper.
that every human is incapable of loving you.

that every human is a desert
when all i need is an ocean,
a constant, a still midnight.

dynamite with purple eye
bags
sweating through the steamy night
glad
you came here with your raspberry lies
mad
in stuck suburban side
tad
bit on the fiery side
like
dynamite
kryptonite
tnt
confide in me
lucid dreams
paranoid screaming through tiny teeth
sad
you didn’t want to plummet
back
into purple eye
bags
dynamite
drags
on cigarettes
and chloroform eye-
lids
bad
luck and stuck with dynamite
kryptonite
explosive nights
raspberry lies
hazardous tries
and over the top
mad
ness
and the fear of being a reject
with eruptive tendencies
toxic needs
and a little bit of tnt
lack
of relatability
and dynamite
mad
this world is too
sad
to be blowing stuff up right now
but
glad
there isn’t a frenzy of deadbeats
only purple eye
bags
and would
haves
and tnt

las cortinas cierran
el escenario está vacía
yo miro la luna en el fondo
estoy hablando tontería
estoy llorando en el piso
es un acto de un solo hombre
así que el lugar está sombrío
y nadie está haciendo nada

how i wish to be a harp note in a russian symphony
how i wish to be a dragon, longer than six feet
how i wish to be the line that is on that narrow face
how i wish it wasn’t that easy to find someone to replace
me
how i wish the moon would stop and tell me the truth
how i wish i heard Jesus’s name from the mouth of you
how i wish that we didn’t have to lose some seeds along the way
how i wish the death would come fast and then be on its way
how i wish my hands weren’t so shaky when i speak
how i wish the words that slip from my lips didn’t puncture me
how i wish time could slow down just for me to catch a break
how i wish the sea would settle down when i am in its wake
how i wish i could be more
how i wish you could adore
me
how i wish this world was more forgiving
how i wish i could fly
how i wish i knew why
how i wish i would stop wishing for an end
to something that just began

knife marks on my deadbeat frame.
lingering emotions
but they aren’t as excruciating anymore.
wasteful injustice, crawling up my veins.
digging holes in my white blood cells.
𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘯 𝘰𝘣𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦.
𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵.
jokes on me, sunrise isn’t rebirth.
it’s rubbing it in your face
that the world doesn’t stop turning
for you, it never stops.
you never get help,
no matter how many buttons you press
or how many hand waves you give.
𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠.

**** me

like you know how
like how you did a few weeks ago
like i’m a meaningless ant

**** me

like how you do every time i dedicate words to you
like how you drown yourself in your own convictions
like how you’ve seen others do before

**** me

like you would if we were not friends
like i know you want to
like i know you have before

**** me

like i wish you would
like i wish you would jab the knife in my heart to stop the pain
like i wish you were actually honest in your beliefs
like i wish you touched me with bloodied hands instead of careful ones
like i wish you would get sick of everyone else and their bodies
like i wish you would just be like everyone else so this wouldn’t eat me up inside
like i wish you were proud of the things you discard
like i wish i still appeared on your mind like how you do on mine
like i wish you killed me instead of reviving me.

the blue start of the night
stares into my bones.
i’m torn at the seams;
the company i keep does not wish to keep me
and, if it does,
solely like a secret, something to be
hidden, unable to be uncovered.
if i share all of me, what will be
left to say
and who says you won’t leave, let
me disintegrate?
there’s nothing to keep;
the depths of what i love
is unreachable,
unattainable. the
lives of all bodies that traversed
into and completely out of my mind,
left behind a trace of emptiness
that i once interpreted
as love—
a beast that denies itself to those
who ache to touch it.
i’ll lay blank upon the grass,
counting the ghosts of those
who have left.
watching the footsteps of them
get lost in
the passage of time,
sand covering up the heels,
chasing away the memories
that once lived in the dents.

you left footsteps in me;
the funny thing is i’ve tried to
preserve them, in vain but,
i cannot love what is destined
to be left behind,
what is bound to be lost to time.

the woman.
she’s soft and young and impressionable.
the woman.
she’s kind and compassionate and beautiful.
the air she breathes
curtsies at her feet.
the happiness she bears
makes her complete.
the feathers in her long hair.
the eyelashes on her innocent face.
the fire blazing
inside of her heart.
the pathways inhabiting
her brain.
the woman hides
from the storm.
the rain falls on her back
and never apologizes.
the moon carefully watching
her smile form.
the woman runs from danger.
the danger dissipates into the atmosphere.
the pinecones shivering at the close call.
the woman dances in soggy puddles.
bathes her body in a stream
that touches her skin rhythmically.
the woman takes flight with the birds.
swooping above forest lines.
the woman rests when it comes a time.
she lets her rapid heart slow.
she tames her impulses
and lets her truth grow.
the woman shoots arrows as the sun rises.
she begs for warmth.
she feels her heart fill
with love and with caution.
the woman often strays beyond the path.
she explores the rocks, the twigs, the earth.
she breathes sweetly.
her arms flap freely.
the woman finds a crystal in the woods.
she shelters it from the beastly wolves.
holds it in her palms.
allows its full form to sprout.
encourages its struggles
repeats sweet phrases.
the woman lays down
with the body she tends to.
she lets the world
fill her with whatever it may.
no matter the consequence.
the woman sings as the river rushes.
she watches the moon sink beneath
the horizon.
she’s the kind of woman i wish to be.

listen, i know everyone dies
it’s inevitable
so why do we cry when our loved ones die?
i don’t understand this world
this mandatory thing
that happens no matter what good or bad decisions you make
i am not a nihilist
so i am not saying ‘everybody dies, and nothing means anything’
i want to be someone’s centerfold
i need
someone to miss me when i am gone
i need
to be held in the arms of someone who relishes in the time spent with me
someone to go to church with me
love God like me
love life sometimes like me
die with me
cause everybody dies

i collect the fireflies in my hand
gazing at the pink sky
as the sun sinks below the atmosphere.
i feel them buzz around my fingers
chaotically and rhythmically.
i’m the background singer
in my stage show
i’m a fraud
i’m sapphire stones
bleeding blue on my own.
the wasps are moving
the trees are eerily still.
i’m never letting these fireflies go.
the only release i’ve had in a while.
i’m tired of having a rehearsed smile
in the back of my throat.

the fireflies have died inside my hands.
i suffocated them
with my sweaty palms
and scrunched fingers.
my first mistake was believing in miracles.

could i love you more?
i have bandages, garments, hair ties—
things to contain me.
i’ll overdose on your medicine
yet i’m not completely sure how
to be swallowed whole by something
and not desire to be spat out.
i don’t understand my heart,
no one has ever tried to touch it
without my hand slapping them
out of the way.
i couldn’t love you less.
i’m beaten down and clawing
at my insides from the inside
out;
do not know how to undue the erratic.  
hands that could aid me
would only shape me
into such an apathetic shell
that couldn’t understand love
even if she tried.
and in trying,
i have hurt and abused
the very medicine intended to cure me
of such a sick and twisted nature.

i could not love you any less.

in shallow tides
in open waters
the water slips through every crevice in my hand
nothing is
and do you think the lovers have everything they ever dreamed?
do the lovers themselves lose the meaning of love?
turn it into
something transactional
something found because of loneliness.
sick of being a lover in a loveless world
where the love i reach for is
just beyond
my physical ability to touch.

BUT I’M DYING BECAUSE MY ARMS CAN’T HOLD THE CORPSES AND MY EYES ARE WELLING UP WHEN I KNEW IT WAS BOUND TO MAIM ME.
I KNEW IT WAS BOUND TO **** ME
WITHOUT CARING WITHOUT REMORSE
I KNEW THE TEARS WOULD SINK INTO MY CHEEKS AND MAKE THEM SOGGY
BUT I’M DYING IN MY OWN ARMS, MY OWN HANDS THE ONLY WITNESS TO THIS WRECKAGE
YOU’D THINK I’D LEARN BY NOW;
I HAD LEARNED, BUT I REVERTED BACK
TO WHO I WAS WHEN I BELIEVED IN LOVE AND I DO NOT ANYMORE.
I AM JADED NOW
BUT WHO AM I TO TOUCH THE WOUND
AND FEEL NOTHING?
AND I AM DYING FOR A CAUSE I CANNOT MEND
TEARING OPEN MY STITCHES,
WHO WAS I BEFORE THE TORNADO,
BEFORE THE GUNFIRE?
YOU’D THINK I’D LEARN BY NOW,
YOU’D THINK I’D STOP DYING
FOR THE SAKE OF SOMEONE ELSE.

i’m more human than you are
more human than your wickedly
accentuated cheekbones
the hair that falls in clumps above
your eyebrows
has more life in each strand
than you have in your entire body
your charcoal colored locks
that get lightened in the sunshine
gather more oxygen
than your own lungs can inhale

i’m more human than you are
when i laugh, i can’t breathe
when i’m anxious, i feel inches away
from death
it lingers in the pockets of the heat
it traps inside my airways
yet, i can breathe finer air than you

even though the haze upon the horizon
blocks traffic, makes people stop for a second
it is more alive than you’ll ever be
it winds and dips and turns
flowing through the atmosphere
creeping down the downtown streets
yet, it’s more awake than your resting body

and i understand this might be
a touchy
subject for you
but you need to let the air stay in your lungs
for more than a millisecond
let it sizzle inside your skin
feel your vessels and veins shrink and grow
let the blood flow reach your panicked head
let it expand inside your brain
and feel the cells chatter and goop
like water

you’re more human than you think
yourself to be
more raw and real and vigorous
you have a soul buried in your eyes
unlike the caterpillars chewing on
plants who only do it to keep their
species thriving
you’re a human who can extend their limbs
to reach the furthest lengths
your heart can think to be
bursting with life

i’m still more human than you are
this pen i was locked in
stuffed my self esteem
but i’m still breathing, aren’t i?
i can chase the wonky walking warbler
i can lie
between blades of grass
letting the earth sink into the linings
of my skin
even though an itch might bust through
i still find a way to absorb the
outside weather
the humidity and the direction the
wind is blowing, or choosing to travel

you’re more human than you think
can retreat from out of you
breathe, and maybe the cricket chirps
will make you resort back to
rolling down hilltops or
jumping off rugged cliffs
next time when you jump
internalize it
and maybe next time
imagine you’re a sparrow for a second
tasting the air, as the water embraces you
and calls your name
so,

                          answer back

i thought i broke my ribs laughing,
young and dying to be seen
i have no better place to be at 12 a.m, but beside you.
i wanna love you
so unapologetically.
you’re the cure to my illnesses.
we ran like little kids and the playground was blue, illuminated by the lights of little houses.
we ran and bolted and had no regrets;
i have no regrets.
i want to love you
like that playground loved school children
its only purpose to love the laughter till it disappears along with the breeze.
i had to disappear too.
i am older now,
and lost and you grabbed my hand and took me with you
and you are so wonderful,
allowing me to become a little kid again
chasing in the street
laughing till our ribs are soft and shattering.
what are we now?
swim with me.
let’s leap from the dock and become one.
i am a kid and you are who i look up to with wide eyes
and a tender soul
hold me in your lap
let me sleep and hold me
hold me
hold me.
so softly
so my ribs do not shatter.

i don’t want to be a well,
that you only lower water down to
once a day,
or less if it storms.
when it rains,
i imagine i’m swimming in your tears,
soaked to the bone
in your dna.
i don’t want to be a well,
a stone foundation only standing
cause it’s expected to.
don’t wanna hold your secrets
and keep them;
i’m terrified of echoing stone walls.
i don’t want to be a well,
that’s only necessary if you’re thirsty.
when it rains,
you have other methods of drinking.
i don’t want to be a well,
far away from your home,
not part of your warm family.
i don’t want to be a well,
a cavern so deep
you can’t see
the bottom.
i need to be known entirely,
researched and studied,
so carefully,
that they’d cry if they spilled
liquid on me.
i don’t want to be a well,
that dries up in a drought,
so easily forgettable,
if it’s not needed around.
i don’t want to be a well,
i want to be well,
i want dinners inside, keep me alive,
not outside with the rainy season,
the growls and howls of wild beasts
untamed for such a quiet thing
as me.
i don’t want to be a well,
but i’m well over my head,
tripping over my own feet,
clunked with buckets constantly.
i want to be warm,
kept in from the cold,
the snow doesn’t know me;
i don’t know its fury.
would you get to know me,
if i wasn’t providing you energy
and love and my own sanity?
would you consider banishing
me?

he thinks my expressions translate to admiration
he’s so stuck in his oblivion
the accidental glances must be for a reason
he’s so obsessed with himself
he’s thinks i’ll fall to my knees in front of him
jokes on you, i’ve only ever thought about you for less than a minute
i don’t adore you
the coincidences that align
are made up in your mind
i’m just trying to exist
i need to plant a garden within the constraints of the palisades
i don’t even know your name, nor am i enthralled with you
how come when i moved, you moved too?
it’s never ever about you
i need to build a garden in the middle of the woods
can i be trapped forever?
a vanished little girl
on the cliffs of doom

should i be overcome with possibility or with a weak frame of mind? what do you have in mind, wise one? are your cheek bones usually this sunken in? does the setting horizon usually mirror your image? does the pain you feel define you? how shall it not? i slept for years in a bed that wasn’t mine, scared of my shadow, scared of the phantoms in the closet. i performed for myself. is that why i never felt belonging or a longing to my own self, as my own entity? i forgot what life meant in my rampant race for closure. i found out your mind can lie. it can scheme. it can puncture a lung. it can violate you and you won’t even pay mind to it. it will feel like kindness and maybe it is because you are weak. the flood can creep in when you are sleeping. it can suffocate you when you are unaware. my compassion gets mistaken, i know. the storm can brew right upon your doorstep, leaving you no time to stop it. does the dismantling of others make you a deity? i’d like to know if the pillow you sleep on at night is too firm or too perfect. cause when i sleep, i hear a distant rumbling, and no, it doesn’t send me to sleep. it drives me to the brink of insanity. it doesn’t hurt to be alone, it hurts to be seen yet ignored, it hurts to be invisible. yet sometimes, i want to hide from the impending doom. there is a spirit inside of my head, but i think it is myself because i don’t believe in such things. sometimes i speak to the ghosts of the people that have left me. through my writing, i see rhymes where they weren’t before and i see meaning where i only saw words. i have forgotten the meaning of happiness. i have forgotten the feeling of belonging. i have forgotten the meaning of bliss. there are some days i forget the void in my stomach exists, but it still constantly persists. i feel like i’ve watched my life unfold like a film reel. it’s going by so fast, but i’m like a zombie with this internal pace. i can’t find meaning in things. yet, as i watched the stars in the deep night sky, i felt so tiny compared to them. they have been around forever. every person that has suffered a disaster looked up to the stars to find a helping hand. and they found it. for me, i’m afraid to expose myself to the world. even to the stars in my backyard. they are floating ***** of light and what am i? something of such lower significance. what am i and why does life feel like a switchblade in my neck? my faint revolution will be peace and anger and blurted words i kept inside so long. i don’t belong, and i’m just so sorry God. i will try. i have tied my wings back. shall i fly or will i break and come crashing back into this negligible dead land? will i be the daughter that even strangers are proud of or will i be the lump in your throat, the unwashed laundry, the burnt toast? i can’t feel who i am, the numbness has set over me. i failed you, but i will still try. make no mistake. yet if the mountains descend over my body, i will be taken and there will be not much left of me. when the birds have pecked at my skin and my eyes have lost their irises, how will i see myself? as the flesh decomposes, what will remain?

¿has olvidado la causa de tu existencia?
no es fácil; ¿con qué quieres con esto?

¿te olvidaste el brillo de la luz de la luna mientras mirando al vacío?
¿te olvidaste la luz del amanecer que tocaba la parte de tu espalda más vulnerable?

el pasado es fuerte
más fuerte que los tigres
y tu ambición.
no puedes alcanzar mis manos en tus secretos profundos
así que
dime todas tus luchas
debajo de la luz de la luna.
no me quejaré.

¿te olvidaste el sonido de la lluvia mientras me te abrazaría?
¿te olvidaste cómo se escurría por tu columna vertebral
y te reirías?

te olvidarás los mejores momentos de la vida
si gastas todo el tiempo
estado atascado en tu mente.

ya me olvidé tu cara a pesar de verte anoche
pero no olvidé la manera que me hiciste que me sentí.
la memoria que durará una vida.

no me olvides.

did this love make you weak, cower and plead?
or did it bring you depth and reason?
i’ve been adored by few
with stolen egos and smart lies
i don’t mean to compromise your beliefs
but can you see me and you start to dive into an ocean of your deepest fears?
do you see us moving without our eyes with just our souls and do you think we were made to question every feeling we feel?
shouldn’t we just dive head first into an ocean of our deepest devotions and leave our doubts astray on the sandy beach?
when the wave had swallowed me, i had forgotten your touch
now every fingerprint looks and feels like yours.
i compromised my heart for i feared i would have to stomp the ember out before it even separated from the fire’s edge.
should we dive with no reservations, no hesitations, no preconceived notions?
we are tidal surges, we are tsunamis
afraid to unleash our full potentials
and what a shame to deny our natures so defiantly.

you want to see me stripped on the floor
a motor of a girl gasping for breath
crawling with her blistered knuckles
her wounds harsh and fresh
can’t you just breathe in deeply?
exhale, then inhale me
oh, for your sake baby
push it in then leave me diseased
you only see a body
you only see a body
you only see a body
you only see my body


—i wish so hard that you would just see me

i don’t care what she did
i don’t care what she does
she’s my friend, after all

my sister told me she’s full of red flags
she hasn’t texted me in over a month
she’s grounded, i’m guessing
(i’m low key glad we haven’t texted much)
(she can be kinda overwhelming)
i feel like a horrible friend for saying that

my brain hurts because she was always
so kind to me
she accepted me for doing nothing
i never had to prove myself when
she was around
yes, she may be problematic, but aren’t we all?

my sister told me to stop hanging out with her
and being friends with her
why would i break off a good friendship?
we’ve never done anything bad together

she tried running away with her boyfriend
his name is andrew and he’s much
older than her
in june, she told me he was good for her
and i was happy that she was happy
was i wrong for that?

now she’s reckless and crazy
(not that she was never before)
she’s only friends with ****
addicts and skateboarders
i’m the only exception
i’m the only normal stable (kinda) one

i hate getting confronted about my friends
i’m a good girl and i’m not a doormat
i know when things get sketchy
and when you should run away

i’m starting to rant, but i don’t
think it’s unhealthy  
who knows what will happen next
at least i get writing material out of this

(it’s just an innocent friendship)

the swarm of flies is me
wheatgrass dry hair
regretting below the canopy
unkempt

listen, i don’t want to be your only,
your stop sign in the road
the swarm of flies is you
clouding my mind
making me confused

the rapid flight of tiny bodies
all dropping dead in front of me
unaware of their demise;
only aware of me

sweet breather,
the swarm of flies is you
panicked and anxious
erratic and angsty
i’ll never need a body to complete me
never need some hands to manhandle me into emotions i do not feel

maybe you’ll always need another skeletal system to inform you of how to exist
productively killing themselves
from within
the swarm of flies is you
a cold reaching hand outstretched to my flimsy bones
warning me to jump into the abyss with no real meaning behind it

the swarm of flies is me
my fluctuation of feelings
mixed signals and pushbacks

i’m sorry, other human,
so sorry i have retreated back into my own thoughts
pacing around a maze that’ll never be completed

the swarm of flies is me
for blaming you
for my own childish fears
for leaving you a corpse
mislead and exhausted

the swarm is me

i’m not a lover,
i’m a mover.
a pusher,
a puller,
a secret keeper.
a violent hurricane
that leaves palm trees overturned
and businesses distraught.
an afterthought,
a delicate reminder of joy
for only a moment.
a hazy daydreamer,
a ‘try my best.’
a solo traveler,
who braves the windy waves alone.
though the water tumbles over
ships and i feel like surrendering.

i am a lover,
i just don’t understand the patterns of skin touching,
of how to awaken the lullabies buried inside of me.
i don’t understand how to stop the madness
from escaping my palms
and dripping onto your back.
i wipe the ink from your body.
it stains my fingertips.
i am a lover,
i just don’t understand how to love you,
to surrender to the thought that maybe i cannot control everything in my wake
and that is not a curse.
i am a lover who was raised in flames,
but i can be tame.

i want a fire escape love
i want a “feels like i’m in space” love
i want a looking around every crowd to see your sweat dribbled face love
i want a kiss in your car love
i want a hold passionately in the dark love
i want an “aim at your heart cause i know where you are” love
i want a forgiving love
i want a long living love
i want a “shower you in kisses cause this is what i’m giving” love
i want a meadow runner love
i want a midsummer love
i want a “lay in a field of flowers with the sky above, us under” love
i want a fully encapsulated love
i want a “you make me exasperated” love
i want a never cause arguments or leave me aggravated love
i want a strong love
i want a hold me while i’m crying hard love
i want a never let the sadness get too far love
i want a peaceful love
i want a hand that removes the letal love
i want a “give me medicine so i don’t become feeble” love
i want a free love
i want a frolic on the beach love
i want an “end of the week it’s you i want to see” love
and i want an everlasting love
i want a light up the shadows that are casting love
i want an “end of a disaster it’s you and i that are going to be lasting” love

i want you, love

i’ve known you more years than you’ve ignored me

the clock ticks into the lonesome hours
hung up on a single midnight prayer
lingering on the lips of a bandit
the strange humanoid breeze stirring the silky curtains
swear i can hear harsh whispers underneath the sheets

elusive, like time
you racing along cemetery roads
rainy fog splashing quickly upon your rosy face
i see a lighthouse glow coming from the depths of your soul
it blinks twice, for help, but when i come closer
the sea turns jet black, with only the moon as a fickle witness
unreliable narrator, strung on the words i’m convinced are true

i remember the phone ringing and my feet sprinting to pick it up
now you hanging up on me instead of the line
the cord snapped off, a strategic static
six different rings and betting that it is you
on the other end,
but instead it’s just ghostly noises and faint memories hung out in the yard like wet laundry

i’m crying the bullets you shot into me
they come out of my pores, into my shaky hands,
and i lose every sense of my existence
it feels rare to belong, so impossible to fit into the correct puzzle piece

the floodwater so murky and enigmatic
the clock ticks and i start to hear your laugh
from the sky
it dives into the walls of this crumbling house,
singing as in amusement or sheer fear

devote my life to migration
moving to places where your feet have stood,
but it’s never permanent
the fire is almost so inviting,
gifting a warmth that no human being ever could
hot coals and embers, but it doesn’t burn
it feels like belonging.

i wanted be your accomplice, your right handed woman.
the fiery blaze to your cool gentle waters.
i wanted to be the woman on your mind, late night,
when you realize nobody gets you like i do.
i wanted to be the woman who made you feel alive
when we jumped over fences and hid behind trees
and you had to turn on the heat to ninety degrees
so you could warm me up
because i was shaking like a fragile fly in water
bobbing up and down
loose legs, aching head,
i wanted to be the woman you picked instead of the noose.
i wanted to be the woman who was your getaway driver
after some kids chased you down a grocery store aisle
and out into the parking lot
where your friend showed me his toy gun
and he started shooting it
i wanted to drive around and just listen to you move your tongue
up and down
and back around
and hear your speech become louder and louder
while you laugh at my jokes and i drive with no lights on because i lost track of my mind when i saw you
sweating at eleven p.m. with your hands raised up in surrender
and you told me i could be better at following you.
i think i completely blacked out when we played hide and seek
and my feet were sore and quiet as i hid behind the displays
i wanted to be the woman who wasn’t it, but she tagged you anyway.
i didn’t want the night to end
i didn’t want to lose my head
i wanted us so dearly to just be best friends
i didn’t want the night to end
i wanted you to invite me inside
but instead we talked cereal and tv shows and nothing
and i wished that you would’ve realized something
that you were the eclipse in my sky to shake me awake
the beginning to my ending
the hello to my goodbye
i would’ve been the woman
i would’ve been your man
i would’ve been the accomplice to your stupid crimes
i love you desperate and pathetic and sweet
and i don’t do love
but you brought out something in me
i never thought i would be
and that is one word and that word is complete.
we’ll keep jumping fences and loving so reckless
and maybe one day i’ll be everything you wanted
i occasionally reminisce on my real life experiences that feel like pipe dreams
running and running like dogs in the countryside
one day i won’t be terrified to hide the fact that i love you
i won’t be dying to be someone i’m not
and i will just run with the wind
and not run from my worry
or my fear to connect with humans so vulnerably
one day i’ll get it, my dear accomplice
but for now i’ll sit here with my stream of conscious
remembering and forgetting
and loving every second
and being the woman you hand all the credit
i’ll be the one you cross towns to find
avidly searching for some kind of person
who makes you smile even when you’re done hoping
i’ll be that girl for you, i won’t be a traitor
i’ll pick you up screaming on a saturday night
and i’ll save you from all the juvenile fights
i won’t leave you stranded,
i’ll reach my right hand out and never let go.
i was alive in a moment of time
and you were the kind to my uneasy mind
and now as i write this, i think of us fondly
oh darling, do we sparkle in your point of view?

i’ve written about you
enough times to count on two hands now
but i do not want to be in love.
and i’ve said that one hundred times: you must be sick of hearing it;
i’m sick of me too.
i make myself sick
in every way
because i can’t write about you
in a poetic way
because the way we coexist isn’t poetic
in the slightest.
the way my eyes curl around the edges
is not poetic
in the slightest.
i am not enthralled with anyone.
i don’t carve initials into my spine
so i can be yours and you can be mine.
i am not obsessive.
i don’t know how to give myself away to others
to waltz on their stages
with ballet slippers.
i have no idea how to be in love with someone else.
i don’t need anyone else
to make me worthy in this world.
i don’t want anyone else
to make me worthy in this world.
i am worth the first breath of sunshine
without a man sitting on the park bench with me.
i am worth the months i have spent
aching for somebody else to make me whole again
but i am whole and complete and my own entity
and i love who i am when nobody is around
i love who i am when i am just by myself.

you were whisked away on a ship, bound for the treasure of the hidden world

i traveled to a desert
sweltering heat and cracking blisters
called your name as dry sand filled my esophagus
an oasis sprouted in the middle of the sandcastle civilization
running water, blue and hopeful
sprinting like a madman, i trekked towards my salvation
but when i came across its beckoning entrance
the mirage collapsed
the betrayal
my eyes had deceived me
in my consuming exhaustion, i had forgotten the illusions, smoke and mirrors the desert plays on you
and in being so crushed beyond belief
sandstorms came from under my feet
and, you know, the mirage became some
solidified reality
and
i
ache for it
with all my bones.

if only i were a crew member
aboard your ship to the galaxy
i was seconds away from boarding
five steps away
so close i could smell the saltwater as it caressed my cheek
waving goodbye to your face, decorated with sunlight
sun-kissed and golden.

the navigator of the seas
traveler with a sense of abandonment, on a sailboat gliding over waves,
glowing, evolving, flying
the sunset disappearing beyond the horizon,
where you chase the possibility of its various immensities
a rhythmic beauty, hung up in galleries, watching the waves lap against the shore
hands on her chin as she sits cross legged,
feeling the sand swirl around her  
she cups up the sand, as it vanishes slowly underneath her palms
sobbing into a pile of grief, so confined in a state of helplessness
she tumbles on the sand, silky hair falling to her sides under crescent moon design
and
she
aches for refuge
with all her bones.

my innocence floated away in fourth grade
when all my classmates grew up and it petrified me.
the world has ruined my bones, has ruined the soil where i planted my first milkweed for the monarch butterflies
we have all been destroyed
we just don't realize
or maybe we do, we just shower and bask in it.  
every soul is so uncouth and the world now stings more than the crack of the whip.
termites are crawling inside our mouths
moths are being inhaled through our nostrils.
when i was nine, everything had a clear answer and i was always happy
but now that my innocence has been scraped from the bark of a crabapple tree
i am so bewildered and i can’t find any sanctuary and life is so unendurable.
restore my patient calm and timid mind
i loathe this planet and this wicked institutionalized harbor where i now have to spend my days
all because i lost my innocence in fourth grade