Nickelback dreams
written like wishes-
Creased over pages and
broken-book-spines
donated to used bookstores.
Pick out something new-
Smells like money
Smells like success
Smells like
somebody else's words in my mouth,
Hard to chew on
Hard covers poking
into hands used to holding
paper backs.
They weren't too fancy
but at least they were mine

Beg for forgiveness where there's none to be found

He says: do not ask me for mercy, I am no god

yet he certainly bleeds like one

Red and red and red
all over his bruised knuckles;
the price of freedom
the riot in patriot.

Cracked mirrors on a Sunday
cracked bones on a Monday
will Tuesday be cracked teeth
or is that his off-day?
Do gods take off-days?

He's on his knees, now,  
offering up squinted-eye smiles
I am no god
He promises, parting the sea of peace, anyway

Perhaps gods never set out to be divine
perhaps they do not know who they even are
since peace and war mean nothing to them

It's the human condition, to hurt.
He hurts all the time, you can see it in his shoulders
in the way he bleeds

Red and red and red
just like a god.

We ate the sunrise for breakfast
water black like motor oil
before the sun had a chance
to wake up and ignite it
and a girl that looked like coming home  

The hands of a best friend
holding a sparrow-delicate flower-
could have been my heart with
how little it looked
in her palms

Fleeting, fleeting
and gone

I watched, standing alone on my island
as she looked back
winked
loved me
and left.

Back tomorrow, always
for breakfast
to eat the sunrise
and put the sun himself
to shame

The stuff she's made of
it's not any material found on earth

She was supposed to be me,
I think,
before we were both made
since
I miss her like I miss my breath
when it gets knocked out of my chest.

Paper faces and silicone smiles-
Where’d you get that mask, little girl?
Looks an awful lot like

me.

Happy Birthday

We cry all the time, you and I
Blond hair and sunshine smiles and anxiety and shiny grades

And love.
Love, love, love
Love; Family

You share, I share
I give, you take, we take, we take.

We take meanness and swallow it down, insecurities from other people and make them ours

You go to private school and I do not but you and I, we smile in solidarity
Sit at the family dining table in solidarity
I have a spot at that table and an extra mattress in your room

In solidarity.

A sister, a friend, a mirror.
Let me always be your mirror, for I love you more than you may ever love yourself
It's the least we could do for each other

Tonight we cry by laughing, spill sunshine across the table because what a wonderful thing it is to have something that will never scrub out of your soul

My dear, Happy Birthday.

and why?
because I've got to
get this thing
out of my chest

It's doing its best to suffocate me
or maybe just put me to sleep
but either way It's scaring me

because I know this feeling
and I know what the thing looks like
or at least
what it tastes like
and I know

I've got to get it out
I just
don't know how

We’re forgetting the most important part, I think

It’s that the hurt is worth it.

It’s worth it.

If nothing else, it is worth it

To love with the risk of pain

Than to never love at all.

It isn't the night-creature's fault that you're afraid of it

perhaps it likes the dark

perhaps it feels safe in small spaces

like under your bed

or rattling around inside your skull.

it isn't the night-creature's fault that it's drawn to the whites of your eyes

maybe it's only ever known fear

and with a history like that, how can you expect the thing to know love?

This isn't to make you feel bad
it's just to explain
that I don't make compromises
because I know how quickly
a smile can swallow a girl whole
chew her up, spit her out
and keep on bearing perfect chiclit teeth.
So don't think you're pulling a fast one on me-
Let me tell you something: I have value and I am not for you to spend

"I thought"- What a dangerous phrase, goes both ways;
I thought they liked it/I though they wouldn't
Compromises desire and safety at the same time, corrupts them both
but the world moves and I've moved, and I'm older now, less compromising
now.

I don't care if you think I'm just another girl lighting things up
because I've ruined your good time
because you don't want to hear about "things like that"
I told you already, it's not to make you feel bad,
It's just my experience
it's just my life.

So, no, I won't sleep with you on the first date
and no, I won't feel bad about it.

It’s just that you told me you wouldn't leave
Or maybe I was the one who made that promise
Or maybe I promised myself that you wouldn’t leave
That should have been the first warning sign
Sometimes I think the only person good enough for me is myself
Seeing as you left anyway
And I’m still here
With promises that maybe you made
Or maybe I made
Or maybe I made for you.

When we were kids,

I loved you so sweetly

I loved you like I loved the taste of strawberries on my tongue

When we were kids,

I loved you in innocence

Under the mindset that you fit comfortably next to me when I lined my life up

Putting all the people together until they stretched like a road in front of me

A path to my success.

My road has potholes aplenty now

From where people left

It has different pieces and bumps in the asphalt from where people came in

It has speedbumps behind me from where I had to slow down over a heartbreak

Oh, when we were kids, I loved you so sweetly.

I like you now. I like you.

See, my tire rims have been dented so easily by the potholes in my journey

And I don't have the money to replace them if you decide to pick up your piece of the concrete and leave.

The inherent eroticism of religion,
How red the little g gods bleed
By the soda fountain

And all the women who devote themselves to their gods (plural)
Gods like those that ruled over Greece
The flawed ones
The ones that made monsters
and humans both

Is that the neck of a coke bottle or
A glass skinned girl
Between those teeth straightened by mettle?

I’m telling you, if you’ve ever met a priestess
The real kind, the wild kind
You’ll know well enough what it’s like to be eaten alive
And I’m not talking about by the mosquitos in the swamps of Georgia

I’m talking about
How the glass breaks
How it shatters
How it cuts the mouth of that little g god ******
By the soda fountain
And he’s left wanting for more

The taste of blood is acquired like this; early

There’s no such thing as a benevolent divine

Pull me down
Farther, farther
Into the depths of the Earth
Pull me down, down, down
Until my skin touches the core, red hot
And then farther
Down past molten rock
Down to dust
Down to nothing
So that I may make myself once more

Listen to me
Sometimes we cannot change who we are
What we are
What we crave
And what we don't
How we feel
And how we breath

Listen to me
There are going to be those people
Who leave holes in your heart
Bright sparks
Left over from ephemeral intensity
That's just how it is
That's life

And if you think that I am not one of those people
Then perhaps you do not know me
At all.

Listen to me

I'm sorry

For the unanswered texts
The dropped calls
The silence

Listen to me

I'm sorry

About the anxiety
I've got to have room to breath
I will never not need that; to be left alone
I have already made a life for myself
I cannot change that trajectory

Listen to me
I am not Cinderella
I am not Sleeping Beauty
I am not a princess
I have no desire to be one
I am a sovereign ruler of my own domain-

Listen to me.
I do not need anyone to complete me
I am whole on my own two feet
And if I have holes in me
Maybe I like them there

Maybe I don't mind being so light

Don't think I lack the capacity to care
I care. I love. I do.
But I am not made to make a home

Listen to me
I love that you are
That you like being close to home
Close to family
Sensitive, caring

But you must understand
That I am not.

I am not.

Listen to me
I care
But I cannot be looking for forever.

I think you've mastered the art of ventriloquy

Since I always seem to hear the things you've said about me

From mouths that aren't your own

Please put your help back in the heart it came from,
mine isn't very good at holding help
isn't very good at holding anything at all-

People come and go
they go, they go, they go

And the second you hand over your help, I'll get back on my feet

I will walk away

You must know this.

Are you afraid yet?
Put it back, please.
Better I'm flat on my back with no air
than walking away lonely.

Put it back quickly, I'm ready to stand.

That’s the truth of it, isn’t it?
Scuttling and sliding down
trajectories of our own making-
easier to go down than up.

Here it is: fear in the face of courage
Legends hanging upside down by their ankles.
Are they smiling or frowning?

Turn yourself upside down to see and suddenly you’re the one who’s trussed by your feet
Hands reaching out and grasping at grass, at straws.
You will see, then, why Atlas shrugged
why angels fall.
It’s right in front of your face, reflected in the eyes of an unassuming rabbit
looking up at you looking down:

Alice through the looking glass, indeed.

It’s not your shoes at all, actually.
It’s the way you tie them: firmly, decisively

You have good, strong hands:
Van Gogh’s starry night,
Michaelangelo’s David,
and your hands.
You have a very specific way of holding onto things
all at once or not at all
The mountain ridges of your knuckles.

But how could I explain a thing like that?
Instead, I say: “I saw someone with your shoes,
the purple new balance 360s,
and it made me miss you.”

But what it is,
what it really is,

is I saw those shoes and I saw hands that were not yours tying them.

Gold's only got value
for people who want to buy things
And the only currency that I understand
are your smiles
So what good is gold to me,
Anyways?

There’s a story about Calypso or maybe it’s a legend
or maybe it’s religion

Daughter of a Titan, seducer of a hero
Maybe she was actually the hero

Must it always be about princesses and dragons, girls and ogres?

Anyway, we’re the dragons and the princesses tonight
Summer whites instead of white
wedding gowns-

There’s a bachelorette party a few tables down and the bride looks uncomfortably close to my age

The four of us, the dragon girls, around the table

There’s a story about sisterhood
or maybe it’s a legend
or maybe it’s religion

Daughters of regular men and students of 4 different subjects, citizens of three different countries between us

Sounds like a bad bar joke: a Romanian, two Americans, and a Chinese citizen walk into a restaurant on a Saturday night...

We laugh at ourselves before the punch line hits (and these young women actually liked themselves!)

When you’re the princess, ogre, dragon, girl
When you’re the prize, villain, hero
you get to have all the fun. That’s the secret to all this, I think: have all the fun you can

Have all you can. Have all of it. Be all of it. Complex human beings with complexes of our own behind our eyes- we laugh

The bachelorette party orders more alcohol

China and Romania plan their trip to Greece for spring break over
the side salads and
COVID-19 travel restrictions
Americans try their best to help navigate the travel website

Imagine this: history happens and we live through it anyway.

We plan through it anyway.

Once upon a time, Calypso trapped Odysseus.

That’s the way the story goes, anyway, but every dragon knows
men only come to the lair looking for a prize
he must not have been expecting something that looked like us
he must not have been expecting the dragon to be the prize

Recovery isn't linear

And there was always something wild that called you home.

Could have been me, could have been the wind

Seems we both found refuge running fingers through your hair.

In the space between the stars
the black cosmos stares back hungrily,
thirsty for adventure

Little boys now turned men
lying in gutters
looking up at the sky

Raindrops on the toe tips of brown leather shoes

It smells like I should be inside, reading.

She comes in a jeep I know well
and when she and I collide in a hug,
the engine still running
I can see the old thing winking at me like it knows
she is the steadiest ******* this planet

A fellow sunshine swallower
she chews up the moon
and eats the mountains, too
eats up all the blackness in  my chest, too

Two schools states away
she hugs the same, always.

Some things, the soul cannot forget, no matter how the hard the heart practicality begs it to
things like black motor oil water
like freckles against light green eyes
like the last time I saw her, the last time there were raindrops
on the toes of my brown leather shoes
and she drove away in that jeep
and I got on a plane

There is no other pain like heartbreak.

Heartbreak is not falling out of love, it is not loneliness
It is the addition of somebody else’s story in your mouth, with no one to tell it to;
Silence in it's worst form.

But as she stands here, holding me, it is quiet
quiet relief

Imagine it:
Raindrops on the toe tips of brown leather shoes
the smell of a grey afternoon
an old jeep
and a girl



--But she is states away again, today--

You are sunshine

Just like she was

Born in July, you've got honey gold hair and blue eyes

Goofy personality

Darling, remind the sun to keep some of her warmth for herself instead of giving it all to you,

I can still feel the warmth of your hands on mine, admiring my ring, from this morning

You like shiny things

I've got shiny lies

You like me

I don't know why

But you don't make me anxious

And somehow you already knew about the last boy and you don’t care that I swing whatever way the wind is blowing

And I'm alright with that.

She is wild
He says she is beautiful

No, no, wild

He says she is beautiful if you would take two seconds to really look

But that would be rude, so wild she stays.

He laughs

"You are afraid."

Afraid? No. Wild things don't scare you

"You are afraid of falling in love."

Silence. Nothing.

She is wild.

"But you see, you already have."

She is wild. She is beautiful.

Counting cars on the front stoop in summer

One, two, three punch buggy no punch back

Lemonade for me and sweet tea for you

This is The South, after all

Only it’s hockey instead of football that’s on the television in my house but

We don’t talk about that since

I say you guys instead of y’all but

We don’t talk about that since

Your daddy has a confederate flag on his porch but

We don’t talk about that since

I grow up and you grow up and we don’t agree on the racial nor gender politics of time but

We don’t talk about that since

I don’t use the term culture of amnesia or white paternalism around you since

We count cars on the front stoop in summer

One, two, three punch puggy no punch back

A tall glass of political awareness for me and a shot of traditionalism for you

and silence between us but

We don’t talk about that since

This is The South, after all

Silence.

Nothing.

Shards of glass littering the pavement,
cars crushed like coke cans in summer.

And the passenger sleeping-
neck bent at an odd angle ,
looking back at the car
with the legs still inside,
forgotten as easily as car keys

                            Or a seat belt

Is love, but with no where to go

Is that text "I'm not doing so good"

Of course not, because he's dead

He's dead and your house is so silent it might as well be a coffin but with your name on it

The worst thing?

It's that I cannot bring him back for you

The worst thing?

It's that I cannot take away your pain

The worst thing?

It's that nobody listens

Except for me

And we all know I can't process grief

So the worst thing is that you are there

And I am here

And I cannot make it better

See her smile
See the sun rise
See your world closing
until all you see is
Her, Her, Her
Tunnel vision like no other

You didn't fall, you flung yourself-
And Icarus, she didn't catch you.

Thing is, the sun, she rises
And you sank like a stone

Here is what I know:

You give and you give and you give

Because that's all you know how to do now

Because

Maybe if you keep giving you will be a good daughter

Except somewhere you must have gotten it wrong, gotten mixed up between the duties of a father and a daughter-

But you give and you give and you give

Maybe... maybe you can show him how worthy you are of love

Maybe... maybe he will learn how to give too

But

He takes.

Here is what I know:

He takes and takes and takes

He does not know what grade you are in but

You give him kindness

anyway

You give him love

anyway-

Darling, give him one more thing.

Give up.

Our space doesn’t exist, friend

It doesn’t exist anymore

Stopped being a thing once your Y chromosome didn’t match

My double X

And we realized boys and girls didn’t have sleep overs

So

Take your sticky fingers away from me, dear

Don’t kiss me sloppily on the cheek in thanks for penny candy, dear

Please stop trying to wear my shorts, dear

They are women’s cut, dear, and the five inch inseam... oh dear

You have a girl friend, dear

And you will have another one next month

And the month after that, another one

Our space only exists in-between,

Where platonicy reigns supreme

But that doesn’t exist anymore, because all girls and all boys end up together, right?

Only I’m right here and you’re right here, so we’re togther

It’s just that you’re my little brother from another mother

And I’m your personal driver

Our space doesn’t exist anymore

her color is yellow
Yellow like the golden rod swaying in the breeze
Yellow like the stickers of smiling faces
Just a kid in a body that could move the world
Worst part is, people expect it of her, expect her color to be imposing, a dark sultry red
But I know, I know her color is yellow

Midnight boys with sunshine smiles
Sunshine girls with stars in their hair

Who you are is who you love

You love funny kind reckless both

You love smiles dark laughing

You love

You love

liquid steel, I swear to you, it's what runs in your veins
You bleed silver and grey
Bending and changing
Hot mettle burning out all of your insecurities
Filling the vacancies they leave with something stronger-
And that's what life does to us, right?
Takes the soft vulnerable parts
Makes them mean
Makes them strong
Like you are.
Strong.
Strong as steel
Rough and tumble
The stuff they make steam engines with
the stuff used to build bridges
to build machines.
Take out your heart, it's the last soft thing left after your smile
After your eyes
Fill the hole in your chest with that steel that replaced your blood
You are not a nice person
But at least you won't be broken.