You'll never say
"I love you"
Just like
I'll never say
"I'm Happy."

Because our words are bullets
And
Neither of us
Can handle
The recoil

What if
Our lives
Aren't
Bulletproof

These thoughts
Will rip through
Their centers

Exploding
Outward
Downward

Shattering our Foundations

Making us fragile

And we will fall.

Our best hope
Being that the wind
Blows us
Into each other

Standing

Ambivalent
From
Death

But the winds
Are breaths
Of
Our demons

And they
Only
Breath for destruction

They are
Dragons of Warfare

So we sit
In our
Ceasefire

Wondering
How long
We can
Hold down
The fort

Treading on
Unmarked territory

We try
To watch
For ***** traps,
But they lay on
Places most beautiful

And I can't help
But aid the
Enemy,

Revealing
The chinks
In my armour
As I attempt
To nuzzle my way
Into yours.

But it is in
The dead of night
That your enemies
Come,

Monsters
Filter your dreams
To darken
Even the
Lightest peace.

Your demons know
How to
Push you
Past
Where you thought
You could go
To a place
That looks
Too much
Like a haven.

They can
Turn your
Own words
On you

And make you
Feel like
you are on
A suicide mission

Their voices
Whisper
So clearly

"What am I even fighting for?"

And suddenly
No cause
Seems worthy enough

And you
Lay down your arms
Because

This is not your first time at war.

You know these trenches.

You feel the shrapnel
Ringing out
Through your bones

And in these
last moments
Of
Utter Defeat

You think
To yourself
How you would
Give
your
life

To go back
And
Release the Trigger

Because
How could
This fight
Be worth
The limbs
And
Hearts
You've broken?

So I stand
Before you

At
full attention
Swallowing
My bullets.

I
Am
Not
Scared
Of
War,

But yours
Is a casualty
I cannot dismiss.

And though
I believe myself
A Revolutionary

I am
Choosing
To
Pick my battles,

Which proves
To be
My civil war

Defying myself
For my
Adopted Cause.

Before,
I could not decide
If I was
A lover
Or
A soldier

And now
I've found
You've
made
me
Both

A paradox
Similar enough
To

I'm not happy
Like
You don't love me

You are both suffocating.
He finds his air in the space that he’s not getting,
You find it in the words that he's not saying,
You both turn blue.

You are both unhappy.
His face makes that burden lighter,
Your face is just another one on the pile.
You both see the meaning in the word “crush”

You are both looking for an escape.
To him, you are a cage,
To you, he is the key,
You both are trapped.

Both eyes stand open,
His are mahogany with rims of gold and flecks of amber,
Yours are brown,
Neither of you are color-blind.

You both share the same humor,
Your laughter is loud and carries,
His laughter is music and dances,
Both of your stomachs hurt.

You both sit silently,
He enjoys the quiet,
You enjoy his presence,
Neither of you speaks.

Quantum physics scares the **** out of me
Well it’s not really just quantum physics
It’s everything that stands in between its letters
It’s both the solutions and the questions that frighten me most
I was 12 when I first had a panic attack about eternity
I was in the shower, writing thoughts in steam
When all of a sudden
I was suffocating on forever
And showered with thoughts of before time
The all around terrifying notion of timelessness
Caused shivers that felt like our heater had gone out again
Tears rushed down my face
Faster than the speed of light
Not that I knew what it was
But it felt like lightening filled my body
From that moment,
I learned my truest fear of unanswerable questions
As I grew and grew wary
I took less showers in hopes
I wouldn’t find my fears
Swirling in around my ankles
Clogging up the drain
Lingering there
As the only thing that I could
Never wash off of me,
Never flush away

As time moved on with
A sureness I could never have
I floated amongst the thoughts of
Others so as not to drown in my own
But as night comes
So others rest
And as others rest
The Fearful attempt to count sheep
But even the sheep begin to wonder
About the unfathomable
And before I know it
I’m screaming into my pillow
Blaming the sheep for my restless nights
Insisting I’m not crazy
Insisting that wool blankets are the problem
Picking problems to bring me to now
Problems that make the present
Matter more to this masochistic brain
Than the questions that I should never have asked

Unanswerable, I’d repeat
I’d resolve
I’d allow myself to toy the word around,
Flick it around in my mouth,
As if to keep it too busy to ask more,
But also to make the original questions taste so sweet
That I never wanted them to leave my mouth
So I swallowed them
As if to indulge my taste buds just a little longer
But they sat in my stomach like seeds
With time they grew up my throat,
Watered with theological and scientific discussions alike
The first time I was told that my questions, could have a solution,
My stomach lurched into my throat
Now was the time
The questions were uprooting, ready to grow out in this world
But my jaw was taut
And refused to let others be haunted
So the vines
With no where else to go
Moved with intention
Past my mouth,
Behind my eyes
Into my brain
It had taken over
I became my questions
Rooted in the pit of my stomach
Paralyzed by the pain of
Wooden rigidity
Each move dictated by the unbending will
Of an oak tree caged by iron
Questions acting as a fungus
Rotting out happiness,
Killing the mind
That had formed the seed in the first place
I was immobile in my fear and
Planted in my questions
Unwilling to explore
And so the tree stayed
And I saw the world through
Shaded light
Always careful not to climb
Too far up
Too far in
Thankful for the fact
That not many aspire to
Plant seeds
Let alone
Climb trees

By the time I first saw you
Many rings had formed
You were passing through crowds
Like you walk through forests
Letting things be
What they were
And
Watching people act as they may
Imagine my intrigue
As I saw the callous on your hands
Smelled sap on your breath
I felt a friendly fear
In your eyes
But your hands
Did not look pained
Only worn
Still with care
Only when you spoke
Did I feel the logic in your branches
The whips of your leaves that
I had refused to grow
You were questions fully blossomed
You had leaves made of
Wormholes
And
Budding flowers of dark matter
And as I drew my trunk back,
Insisting I was allergic
I got lost in your bark
I found possibilities
Buried amongst your ridges
I soon found a taste so sweet,
It brought shame on my appeasing mantra
Without control
Like forces of nature tend to be
I grew into you
Yet still,
It was not the color of your leaves
Nor the feel of your vines that took me
It was your ability to blossom
Your permission of exploration
The blossoms, though pleasing to the eye,
Grew through your watering and sunlight

As if by some evolutionary revelation,
I turned my face upward
And found the warmth of the sun
Didn’t have to burn me
I opened my body up
And felt a comfort in the waters that
I had once felt would drown me.
The budding flowers I had let wilt
For so long
Arose from my branches,
Now growing toward the stars
With a few more rings
Of sunlight and starlight,
You’re much better at blooming than I,
But with questions now being watered,
My trunk grows with possibility
I may never grow to such great heights
Or fully know the universe beyond
But I do know, that no matter
The truth
If the wormholes
And multiverses
Are as real as
The Redwoods
And
Cherry Blossoms
I’m infinitely pleased
That I’m in this universe,
Sharing starlight,
And questions,
With you.

Today I went on a treasure hunt.
Not in search of one-eyed *****
Or
A new life for myself,
But rather
The old one.
Not for the sake of nostalgia
Was my search,
But for a poem.
The words of someone else
That you thoroughly believed
Carried your heart
Into my own ears.
But I was deaf back then.
Before I developed my selective hearing,
Insisting on my revelation miracle.
Until I
Limited my ears
Only to hear
Your lamentations and tongue-lashings;
Before I chose to
Blind myself
To the
Kindness
Hidden behind your fear.
In our prehistory,
You sent me
A piece of your heart,
Still sopping with heartbreak
Beating with rejection.
You sent me
Someone else’s poem
And now I wonder,
If you knew
You were planting a seed
That when watered,
With months of silence and
Countless looks that passed right through,
Would grow into a beanstalk
That I would climb
To reach back into
Our
Brothers Grimm Love Affair.
With no happy ending in sight
I stepped higher,
Knowing what turmoil I had left
Above.
I awaited the curses we cast
And the wishes we wasted
And I was poised for war;
With my armor coated,
Repellent of
Sarcasm and aggression,
I marched back to look at our battlefield
Ready as any warrior.
I was not ready, though, for memories
That looked as appealing
As Prince Charming,
With the face of
A queen.
No, my love
We did not have a
Happily ever after
But, our
Once upon a time
Wasn't half so wretched.
We were the
Fairytale in reverse.
Meeting at the ball,
In all our glory.
Leaving breadcrumbs
Back to the life that was familiar;
The ones that we didn't realize
We were running away from.
But at the ball,
Looking more beautiful
Than any princess in all of the land,
I met you
On your throne,
Refusing to Rise
In all your queen-like splendor,
Hearing from my
Little bird
That you would request
My presence.
I, your humble maiden,
Approached with
The caution of
A girl who only had
One shoe,
Breaking under the weight of memory.
And while you
Were offering me riches,
I was playing
Goldilocks,
Trying to find the home
That was just right
To rest my heart.
Little did I know
That I had bumped into Rumpelstiltskin,
Thinking he was gold
Luring me away
With me thinking
My heart was sold.
Only now
After I found
That gold weighs
Far too heavy
On someone
Who's only just grown wings
Is it that I find the moral of this story.
And so,
As I gaze at you,
With your now fair maiden
I say a solemn
“Thank you”,
For sending
Your love letter
In another's handwriting,
Because,
Although I never struck it rich,
I realize that the treasure was not in the
Happily ever after,
After all,
But all the magic
In Between.

Part of me will never forgive myself
for not following through on the promise I made to you

But another part
knows that you wanted me too
Forced me to

Part of my brain was already on the way to the store
to get cupcake making supplies

when the other part of me,
remembered that you don’t have a sweet tooth

Unless the cupcake was laced with misery,
there was no way you would sink your teeth into it

I wonder why you had wanted confetti cake
when all you know is grey

I wonder if you were hoping that I could bake some color
back into your throat

so that your own voice
mattered to you again

I convince myself that things are better this way
but it is like wishing on a cake the day after your birthday

Forced and futile
though appreciating the sentiments.

I would have given you the universe baked deep
inside of the cupcakes that were my proof that I could be worthy