I feel 16 again
Feeling that lack of love that hurts your stomach
But I’m not 16
I know that love leaves you nauseous and cold
Holding hands with a boy who’s morning routine doesn’t involve saying hello
A moment of intimacy was nothing more than comfort for the time being
I’m searching for a soul within myself that is craving a love

I’m still purging
Old strings attached
Frayed and collecting debris
Lint in hair tangles everything around
My solid body is walking on new ground
My blurry edges are left somewhere else

I have a feeling I must leave in order to return
Iv always flowed in and out of reality
My steps have become too heavy to leave

Sometimes beach roads remind me of a journey into another reality.
An entry way into spoken word of death becoming real.
Colorful tile when I was brought to my knees
A baptism in the ocean that I didn’t ask for but needed
Flying moths the Mayan people call “signs from traveling souls”
Sometimes this place reminds me of death
Other times I’m reminded of rebirth

Yesterday I talked to my brother and he was telling me how sometimes nothing feels real.
Not even himself.
He described it as just a feeling and nothing more.
And it passed.
I wonder if he was scarred that it wouldn’t go away.
He talked about the universe as endless as his curiosity.
And the confusion of being alive.
How small we all are
And science as religion.
All I could think was
I am not alone in my thoughts,
My feelings that sometimes nothing is real.

He says “ how does it feel that everyone wants to *******”
A trophy with green eyes?
Could you feel the pain pouring out between my legs ?
Have you ever had *** instead of crying out for help?
Felt eyes on a body you don’t know anymore?
Disappeared under blankets to reemerge as a token?
Hidden in pockets of boys who will never know you.
Pulled out at parties around tables filled with drinks.
Have you ever felt the absence of love ?
That’s what it feels like.

I know you were not the cause but the effect of an unbearable pain.
An untaught lesson
A wild spirit from teenage years
The answer before  the question was even  asked
You are not singular but you are loyal
You give before we can ask what you are going to take in return
Take a life that wasn’t yours to take
Take a love before it even had a chance
Take a innocent heart that isn’t under your wing, but passing by
A black hole
A magic spell with terms and conditions
No one gets the chance to sign an agreement

You have taken my friend
You have taken my first love
You showed me hell through a pair of blank eyes


I can forgive the vessel
I can never forgive you

I think of the earth changing it’s rotation as I step into a new self
Or seasons moving backwards when I change direction
Not to start over, but to start something new
But Iv been sad in the summer and happy in the winter
I keep hearing that time is not linear

Have you been sleeping okay?
When’s the last time you showered?
Feeling sad before you start your period is normal, you will be okay.
You can’t die from a panic attack.
Drinking that much coffee isn’t good for you.
Have you tried yoga?
What about meditation?
You should try a new medicine.
You seemed fine last time I saw you.

Stumbling is in my nature
The bruised legs of my mother who ran into walls that jumped out at her
She told me green was her favorite color before I knew what it meant to feel growing life
I trip on trails filled with deep green leaves
I once saw her crying as a weakness
Now I know how heavy it is to carry such uninhibited emotion

When I talk about my spirituality and the classes I’ve taken in college, I feel a sense of superiority.
My journal entries and walks around the park.
Flowers blooming that I didn’t plant.
I tell myself I know what it feels like to be alive.
I jumped off a bridge once: 750 feet off a bridge in Africa.
The 17 hour flight back home to you was the most exciting part.
I always say “don’t question the unknown”
“Some things are not supposed to have answers”
I’m always searching for an answer in you.
I’m not scared of life.
I’m not scared of knowledge
I’m not scared of heights.
I’m scared of you.

When your eyes flutter open in the middle of the night
A diluted reality
White noise
A radiated heat next to you
Deep breaths
There will be a moment that’s familiar
Replace the foreign body with a lost love
His hands feel like protection in the dark
Your eyes will soon adjust to dim light
his body  feels the same
But you know it’s not him
Like a homecoming to stale bread

I never had a problem with *******
Easy to turn my mind off
Mid ******
Nothing is real
But please
please don’t put your arms around me before falling asleep
My body isn’t yours to hold
Not now
Please do not kiss me goodbye
I do not want you to think about my lips when you drive away

Remember how much you love African studies
Feel things again. Be mad. Be curious. Be honest. Be thoughtful. Demand more. And be more.

Pain is genuine and open.
You never absorbed mine the way I did yours .
The yeast turned to sugar turned to poison turned to tears.

I saw you only in old buildings, over grown yards, dive bars, and yellow walls.

crawling vines lost their appeal.
My mother loves moss grown between cracks of forgotten homes.
She hasn’t seen what I have.
Charming as it is as first, the smell of old neighborhoods never leaves you.
Anything can be appealing when it’s new, including old houses and old pain.

He didn’t care much for living. But I saw the whole that that leaves behind

They build tall buildings that are meant to sway
A strong wind carries a force to make heavy stones bend and readjust
Pressure against steel beams
It must be uncomfortable to be so big and move with the wind
It must be comforting to know the wind can’t break you

I am my fathers child
Logical: meaning everything is annoying: because the earth is very old and I am very young.

A body holds on to trauma like salt dissolved in water
I am the water and I am swimming in it always
Somedays it’s an ocean and I am floating
Trusting the moon to pull me in a direction that makes sense, one that’s natural and ancient
Other times it seeps into open wounds and stings
But salt cannot hurt salt
Not yet diluted enough to breed life

You stopped brushing your teeth and I started flossing.
Every time you opened a beer I drank an extra glass of water.
It wasn’t love, but I don’t know what else to call it.

My hair came out slowly . Stand by stand. On pillow cases and sweaters. His stayed full and long. I always envied his curl. I cut mine off and didn’t like his reaction. Mine is growing back now.  I think he cut his.