How dare you talk to me like that
I'm not your honey
anymore.
How dare you call me
tell me
you realize you did the worst possible thing
and ask for me back
how dare you
say i never loved you
if i don't take you back
I loved you way to much
I owe you nothing
not a ******* word
I spent the night
trying to make sure
you were going to be okay
that you weren't going to die
of your self loathing
I didn't sleep because
i
for some unexplainable reason
still want to help you
but i cant come back to you
we can never be again
nick
i am so sorry
but we just cant

When I tell a young girl
she does not owe you
Then is not the time to sling
A word of empowerment and equality
At me like a slur
**** right I am a feminist
In the same way I'm a writer
And A scientist

Feminist is not an insult
It means I fight for equality
And ****** autonomy
It means that when a girl
Finds herself in your pig hands
That I want her to know
she has the right to refuse you

It means I want my future daughter
To grow up "as good as a boy"
Without anyone using that phrasing
Because it's the twenty first century
And it's about time we are equal
We've been fighting for this for centuries

When I was young
I used to read books
About girls who fought along side men
Disguised  
I loved watching them prove themselves equal
In cunning and strength
And then reveal themselves
To have breast and life giving *****

I shouldn't have to be manly
To make you respect me
I command the same respect
in a dress an makeup
As you in your suit
(Or more accurately basketball shorts)
once again it's the twenty first century
I don't need to be as strong as you
To be as valuable

And you're **** right
I'm a feminist

I never knew
How much
Words from the mouth
Of my eleven year old niece
Would mean

Just at the age
Where people start
Judging
Girls for beauty

And she looks up to me
Her unconventional aunt
I hope she learns
To love her body
Long before I did
I hope she learns
Kind words never go amiss
I hope she never
Has a love that hurts like hell
I hope every love
Treats her well
I hope I am a good example
For one who is already so good

In a month
Will we be okay
In a month
Will you ******* call
In a month
Will we be sad friends
With misplaced hearts
In a month
Do you start writing poetry again
In a month
Will it be for me
In a month
Will we be strangers
In a month
Will you whisper my name next to crazy
In a month
Will you regret leaving me
Breathing to fast on a floor
In a month
Do you apologize
In a month
If you do do I walk away
In a month
In a month
I'll be back in school
In a month
What exactly do I do
When in a month
I am still in love with you

It starts in my in my fingertips
A shaking offness
That spreads to my heart
It beats to fast
Pulsing drum
sickness in my stomach
Spiraling mind
I'd wish you'd call
You won't
You'll hate me forever
You won't love me
No one will love me
Not if you stoped
No one ever
They are lying
I annoy them too all lying
School
Money
Lost
Unattractive
Talentless
Worried
Failing
Everything failing
Can't breath
Won't tell
Everyone will look at me worried
Can't worry anyone
Just sit shaking
Frantic panting
Won't stop can't stop
Panicking
3 days of this
I really wish you would call
That would stop the spiral

My childhood was spent reading books
in shade trees
and lips stained
by the blood of cool sweet blackberries
found in deep shade
and acquired by masochistic tendencies
which said the scrapes left by thorns
were nothing to the pleasure of cool berry burst
in southern sun

this summer will be spent reading books
in his cool arms
lips stained
by the sweat off his winter white skin
becoming bright red
from a known masochistic tendency
which says artists like to be bruised by kisses
this is nothing to the pleasure of being intertwined
on hot summer nights.

You managed to **** up
A **** good day
Calling me to talk you down
From a bridge
I know you've never stood on
Saying you cant live without me
Baby you cant live with me
Did you think
that would make me love you
Feeling more like ****
But then again
thats
Always
Been your play.

Why I no longer lie or change:

I loved a strong man
he made me feel weak
He choked my songs
my voice ceased to sing
I loved a hero
but he zapped my strengths
Took my strong words
broke them beneath his feet
My words for him were love
his were hate
all my insecurities
he said he was trying to push away
until the day
he decided I had changed too much
Because I had changed too much
Changed by every word he said
He decided to break his promise
forget the ring I wore
And take another girl to bed.


There are no good memories of you:

I hate that I can remember being loved by you
The look in your eyes the first time we slept together
it was a January morning you wore a green sweater
I remember how you said our names all mixed together
I don’t know when we changed
but your oh ****, your ending phrase
your truth turned lie
blew back over everything
I have no good memories left of you
they are all tainted by hatred and pain
now I hate the way you said my name
how it was not as safe on your lips as I believed
And I hate what you had made of me
by the end
I hate what we could have been.
I do not hate that we are not
I am glad that you are gone
I only wish that you had thought
to leave my heart alone.


Your bookshelf was too small:

Though your suggestions were good, though you read every classic, though you knew every (over-spoken) line, you knew too narrow a scope. Though I agree that very little remains unspoken after the classic works. Your shelf of scarcely over seven books, and the fact I never saw you read one, should have conveyed to me a point of disaster that I somehow did not see coming. I have drunk in the words of others since I was a child. I have dived in bargain bins and raided library discards for one more book to read. You could have afforded a library beyond what I could have imagined, and your greatest concerns would have been what people thought of the books you kept and if their spines all matched. I have read almost every book on my shelves. I think they number in the hundreds and I have read so many more besides. And you, you disdained new work. Your pretentiousness and pseudo-intellectual paths fooled even me, until I believed that maybe you, with your little shelf, could offer me something I had not yet discovered. I think you thought so too. But my honest thoughts on you loving a writer are that you, with your little shelf and your boxes and your preconceived notions of what people should be, had no way of knowing how to love someone as open as a writer; someone who can turn their whims with the setting of the sun, who can live in worlds you have never seen and longs only to share them. You with your little boxes and your little shelf never deserved my mind or my stories in your life. I am glad my books never found homes on your shelves.

Next year
Tickets somewhere under 1500 round trip
Airbnb 30 a night
Train passes around 100
1 week in london
1 in dublin
Where I might stay indeffinately
If i dont get into grad school
And find a job
And get a visa
Plus spending money.
Anyway the point is
I need to get out of this town
And probably this country.

And maybe
Ill see you.

I want you to stop hurting
i want to take your pain
i want to hold you close
you ask me to refrain
i know that you are coping
i know you are afraid
i'm left here waiting hoping
that you will be okay

you sleep in darkness my dear,
but don’t you hear my voice
its begging you to open up
to push away the lies
its begging you to feel for me
to throw the shutters wide
and just take the chance
and free fall once
cause you’re drowning in your fear
and as the waves crash over you
don’t you feel the sun draw near
its falling on your face
through the window
clear and bright
but you’ve lived so long in the dark
it seems to burn your eyes
but cant you feel it in your veins?
the way your blood heats up?
its telling you there is beauty here
to open your eyes back up
please open them back up.
I know some of this was my fault
and when you do you won’t be blinded
though maybe still afraid
but you wont regret the choice
to step out into the day
you wont regret the choice
to again look my way

There's a flood in the washroom
And I cant get ready
So I sit reading you
As I have in many of my recent
Spare moments
You're quickly becoming my favorite.

Your girl smacked me
It was play and also a warning
"I hate your perfect baby skin"
And a sting that lasted the evening
I was already wary
She warned me about a game
I'd already stopped playing.
*****, believe me
I know this would come to no good.

I'm gonna break
I miss being able to call you up
I wonder if your home tonight...
I've no right to wonder
or to call.
still...silent...space
abounds.

I sat with you for an hour
I barely said a word
It is so rare that I do that
I wasn't engaged in anything else
or playing on my phone
or playing a game
just watching you play
and laying next to you
It's so easy to feel safe in your arms
so easy to be home
where you are
I'm so uncomfortable with silence
around others
My world is made of words
and you bring peace
I wish  could see you more

I'm sorry I'm now a careful thing
that I play in the shallows
eyes high to the trees.
Around the edges:
Where I can say I love you
and mean it and still be able to flee.
Because the last time the storm came
I nearly drowned.
So now I know every water safe bolt-hole
and how to run.
But I wish I still cliff-dived
into the deep of the lake
instead of staying
close and safe.

There used be this radio station
....Until I a w a k e
That played all the songs I really liked
. .....We just ......hope that you
                                                 ma  de it.
But it never came in quite right
We hope that
you're celeb
ratin
g.
But I still used to listen everyday
With peo.   ple you mis...shhhhh/ s.
To the static.
And bur..... li
ke a beaco
n,
Because somehow it was still satisfying
Guidi
ng........... our s
.............hip
And when it would rain,  
aroun
               d this helli
                                sh shoal.
I guess it cut out the interference.
I'm happy to admit that maybe I am a little depressed,
And maybe thats why...
I feel you when it rains
*Cause I'm missing you to death.

Did you know that a stand of aspen trees
Is one of the largest living organisms in the world.
I don't know if you've ever seen them
but the pale white of their paper bark
and the bright yellow of their leaves
just reminds me of waking up
on the first snow day
as a child and running out, pure joy, into the snow
until fingers turn frozen
then running in to warm them
and back out again
and you are random facts
and snowflakes
and favorite things.

My mother and father never taught me to cook
they always thought I was too wild
for food covered hands
but I watched entranced by flavors
and I learned
I cook like a whirling dervish
all swear I,
can destroy a kitchen,
In the blink of an eye
my parents tasted my cooking for the first time
their eyes grew wide
in awe of something I never learned
but inherited over time

Im sorry I didn't protect you
When they told me.
When you were just a little thing
Just turned 3
And they discoved the wolf
That prowled the woods
That you came crying about
But they did the strangest thing
They pulled its teeth
Then kept things quiet
And set it free
And let you still wander
The woods alone
I see it in your wide haunted eyes
You are only 9 years old
And they are right
You wont remember...
Untill you are 22 sitting in a therapists chair
Trying to figire out whats wrong with you
And they'll ask about your child hood
And youll think about the nightmares
You used to have
And youll realize they were real
I have friends now
Who are like you
And I am so sorry
I didnt make sure the wolf got put down
But I was only a child too.

Blooms are my favorite things
The way they spread open
by sun or moonlight
How they are laid out
at weddings and funerals
I keep them domestic on the diner table
And wild in the yard,
where I had spread wild flower seeds.

Anemone,
Blooms so numerous
that rivers run red.

Every little thing
the phone calls,
and you wanting to see me
and the little things you share
infinitesimally small differences
in how you trust
and how my heart beats
i haven't fallen in love this way before
this isn't the flame i remember
but its not one ill soon forget

I know the static hangs in the air
like bully thrown shoes
on a power line
And electricity cast
like searching fingers
from silent beings
you've got your rubber gloves
And I've got mine

I was made to run from this
I've always preferred swift flowing rivers
to ocean fronts
the waves crash in the same place every day
i cant take the repetition
I'm afraid of these things
I don't wanna forget the way your name
feels like truth on my tongue
I'm suggesting that maybe I love you
but with shoes laced
and one hand on the door
you and I are much the same
we are not made to be with other people
so we see each other well.

You are red flowers
you are the red leaf off the tree on the hard brown mulch
you are the red blood that flutters through the mitral valve prolapse
in my jackrabbit heart

Watching shell-shock set in
eyes to the ground
at the ****** scene.
how does one cope
with ignorance and hatred
directed, and winning
How can I tell my friends
to stay safe
when they in turn say
"It's not in my hands"
and it's just become
apparent that thats true.

On your first date
She will ask your favorite book
And watch your face
like shes trying to memorise the details
She will show you a night like youve never seen
Because she sees everything

You'll know you're dating a writer
Because she is always changing
Understand that in her mind
She is a character always under revision
She will never ask your permission

Youll know you'rw dating a writer
When love moves past infatuation
You'll see her yearning for fire
Kindle that flame
Because she can't live without it
And you will never be the same

Magpie
For dark hair
and light eyes
And rugged charm
But so are they
For red hair and red lips
like baiting crows
With shiny things
Waiting for ravens
with colors in their wings
The play of colors
like dancing flames
Makes all the difference.

I'll make a brilliant staving artist
In this much pain
Who ******* wants to eat

In my life silence has never been comphortable
Quiet has always rang like a gong in my mind
Letting worlds break their bonds and flood
like dam breaks far above desert towns
You make the silence focused, useful
with you nearby words come easy
nothing is lost, overpowering
I'm not sure what I'm saying
but you are being on fire
and not burning

I will write happy
I am resigned to it.
It is hard in some ways,
Not throwing gut punches in ink.
Not entreating with the stars to make something of passing passions.
I used to be so filled with longing.
Well, I still am
But now it is ever satisfied.

And you deserve love poems,
The top shelf kind.
Because you make me feel love
not wish for it
or pine.

I don't feel the need to abstract you.
But  I have you.
You have me, and it's the happiest thing I can think of.
And all my friends are tired of hearing it.
So I have to write happy.
So I can write about you.

I feel silly writing poems
when the world is falling apart
yet I must

Fate hates us
or doesn't exsist at all
we are both ever star-crossed.
In all we do.
Its gotta be that sign
And that we, somehow,
were born within a day
And are yin and yang
with cores the same
Im sorry
we both hurt so much
Fate can go **** its self
The fire is in our blood
to
Burn the earth
with our touch
don't you know
that we
shake everything we touch.
We. Are. Entirely. Made. Of. Starlight.
Sister I know
We can do this.

I like your ink on paper perminance
The hard line of intensity
In your hand writen notes
Around the house
Even the grocery lists
And the way your hands shook
When you zipped my dress
I take it you are not shaken often
And the way you hang out
around the kitchen
While i sit on the counter
And look at you
I watch your lips when you speak
Wondering if that passion exsists
In your kiss
And wondering how often
I can sit on your bed
Without you laying me down
I wonder if you can read my eyes
Like story books.
I wonder if you know
I wonder if you know
I see you too...
And the way you look at me.

You text small books
About ocean waves
And contemplative frames of mind
And for some reason
I find myelf counting the minutes
Like by tide levels
Until you give me
something new to talk about
I need to slow down

He drives a white I've-a-complex sports car,
and wears a jersian leather jacket,
and a tough guy accent.
He ambles, bow legged,to the box office.
The ******* his arm has a kind voice
And gently lit eyes, like flickering candle light.
She ventures a question.
His dismissive tone comes harsh
to her hopeful ears.
I watch the light fade,
Like the candle is in its 7th hour,
now burning low,
and the power, is still out.

I've forgotten the panic  of
"Does he like me back?"

In the not so simple way
Like dawn light on the moors
And those lines scrawled
On ancheint brick walls
Like the same reason
That that scene in that movie
(Ive watched 100 times)
Effects me so
You stir somthing in my soul.

I spent the morning
Walking the city
Writing poetry
I just wish that one ******* thing
Didn't make me think
Of at least one of you
If not both
And that I didn't cry

This summer's almost over
I sit in a south end coffee bar
Wondering exactly what I did
To warrant a fall this hard
I'm writing again
But it's all useless ****
I curse entirely to much
My moods these days lack wit
I'm half angry
Half broken
And two halves sad
That's too much emotion for one person
No wonder I can't sleep
No wonder I'm going mad

It makes more sense to give men flowers,
when you think about it.
After all some love women
and women are floral in nature
some men rush quick to pick
but crush in their hands
or neglect until they go dry from want.
you said your favorite flower is a spider lily
i know where you came to know those blooms
i run by the viewing station 3 days a week
they grow in the middle of the river
where an island of rocks makes the water slow
and a few guardian trees grow
you love flowers that take getting your feet wet to touch
and that you can never posses
by cutting, only by growth.

Today has been spilling
Dark truths
I didn't think I ever wanted to speak.

You are a ******* tragedy
I don't care
I want to play the female lead.

I half wonder
If I should go to mass
I'm not catholic
But maybe I could find peace
in the timbre of the priests speech
Or in  traditions
That I don't know
I think I could cross my chest correctly
I think I could pass
Pretend I am not bitter
for a minute
Lay aside my heavy heart
And go to mass.

You don't wear jealousy well.
Its raised hackles bring out the green of your eyes
and the dark, animalistic way they've been lit lately.
You foam desire,
claws empty.
You are peeking through the key hole.
While I'm trying to peel my back from the door frame.
Where I've been slumped since you walked out,
tail tucked but shoulders certain.
Now, I hear your frantic scratches and whining.
Wild dog, I know you'd go running
in the other direction
if I even placed my hand on the door ***.
I feel you just want to know there's a bowl for you
and a warm place by the fire.
Fine, you have it,
but my heart cant hang
by the leash on the coat rack
unused but hopeful.
That's too much to ask.

All the questions sit on that mountain top
Running is escapism
hiking is not
my head is full from diving into 1000 inquires
and the momentary silence from my subconscious
You asked what I am thinking
I only think of open sky, and words, and worlds, and you
my mom said i was lucky to find
someone who wanted to know my crazy mind
I am enamored with cliffs,
my fear of heights dissipated
I am falling
not from the cliff, no i walked back down
i am falling in love

It's getting harder to wake up alone
I know we don't sleep so well
in each others beds
But for every moment
I wake up to you smiling at me
as you do in the morning
when the sun strike our faces
I'd give all my sleep
just to feel that precious

Cover me beneath the earth.
Hide me in the warm darkness
Counting each little death until spring.

Keep me safe all winter
curled up in you.
Remind me, when the dark brings sadness,

I still like winter best.
the gentle magic
the hearth fires
Playing in the snow
with you.

Realizing my doubt
Is not your fault
Someone long ago realized
There is a monster in my rib cage
Eating at my heart
And I have always ingnored it
Even from the start
Steadfastly believed
I have always been happy

But sometging must have changed
And now I know
its not the way you say my name
(This still breathes the way it did)
Or the way you kiss me
(You still put fire in my veins)
Or the way you look at me
(My heart still stops)

But instead its growing up
And realizing somethings always been wrong
That the chemical switches in my brain
Have all developed misfires
And that monster in my chest
Has broken through its cage
Is now in my mind

And the fact of it is
I probably need help

Talking to you,
it’s like drawing breath
like waking up to soft sunlight
and stretching out
feeling for what’s familiar
but different
for what's changed
while I was sleeping
the danger of waking up
is that suddenly
I depend on the sun
even though its been there all the time
its the realization
that its vital
that it warms my limbs
as they stretch hesitantly
into the new morning air
the danger of opening my eyes
is that suddenly i am vulnerable
no longer in sleep-safe dreams  
where all can be experienced
without feeling pain
but with open eyes
I take the risk
I put my heart out
and suddenly nothing’s certain
and I feel like a child
begging the day not to break me
hoping that the dream exist
that you’ll keep feeling the same
even now that I’m awake.