fog
i inch near you
pale skin covered in goosebumps
and i'm shaking

almost 6 cycles of the moon
and you still make my knees quake

who are you?
release your fears

sometimes i feel like a serpent
charming your eyes with my curves
moving so slowly
until i strike

sometimes i'm frightened
like a lost fox cub in the forest
wandering around in agony
searching for my leader

but i'm told
i'm too old
to be relying on childish fantasies

i wait
nothing
i wait some more
nothing
absolutely nothing

why is my heart so full over vacancy?

i see your eyes, your lips, your teeth, and dimples.
you used to recognize the same in me.

where did you go?
when did you stop caring?
at what time did you start to see me in transparency?

blaming me for your strife, yet you're the one to throw toxic eyes

i'm starting to think this is all becoming a lesson i'm going to later look back on and go "Huh. I really grew from that misery."

i never wanted to equate you to agony but you've given me very little to grab on to without feeling like a guilty, "helpless" girl who "needs to be taken care of."

We're in a car going twenty too fast on the highway, and I don't know where we're headed.

Maybe the headlights will take us to a home where we've never lived or maybe somewhere where the flames aren't as shallow.

Rain has been beating the windows for at least four hours, and I can almost see lightning through all the cigarette smoke.

He says that he can see clearer than ever.

I swear ever since the radio lost signal, I've basically been able to hear the stardust in every shallow breath he takes. 

I can't believe all it took was a broken radio to see him for the kind of words he was meant to be.

The kind that rip apart a person's heart when they finally read them the way they were always meant to be read.

His name is just a noise, and his face is only skin;but the fault lines etched into his bones make me want to believe there are more earthquakes inside him than he thinks.

He makes me want to believe there's something more to life than his fingers wrapping themselves around mine as the car wraps itself around a tree.

At times, I'm jealous
Of innocent lashes
And soft cheekbones
That lure you in,
For I was graced
With no grace at all.
But I was born
With fire in my eyes,
A razor sharp tongue,
And an insatiable hunger
That will not succumb,
And of that,
I am proud.

There is breath here
Still
Full of silent
Mornings silent nights
Looking
Glass half-full half-empty
Handed
A Love beyond wild edges
Made
Too sharp to catch my fall

Yet I stand these tests of strength
Weathered the devastation
Share stories of our struggle
Never really losing the acidic taste of failure
The burn of letting go
How do I not feel guilty?
Even knowing I gave my all
It wasn't enough
Played out in such a way that nothing could have been

*I still had more to give