i cannot explain the flames that lick your eyelashes,
bright eyes.
and i adore that you're not as passive as i am.
and that your heart isn't as big.
there's less space to break
and more room for the fresh air of the world to fill your lungs
besides, hearts are wild animals
and that's why we need ribcages
but you, you're a creature of kindle.
and i get the feeling you know how warm you are.
i do.
if a river like me ran all around the world, do you think i'd get golden slumber, or just bronze sleep?
would i be famous, or just used, with more and more boats put on me?
i wouldn't shiver in Siberia, with you
i would replenish the deserts, with you.
but without you, i have no reflection.
what is a river with no sunrise, but a river?
what is a sunrise, with no river?
still so beautiful.

You are the breeze, the gale
You're the forces I inhale
The spume, the flying spume
From the flank of mighty whale,
You're the roar of pounding surf
On a mile of empty sand
And the hand that guides the albatross
From deep abyss to land.
You are the scent of sodium
In the still of ocean dawn
And the feather of the white seagull
Discarded on my lawn.
You bring a tear of sanctity
When I'm alone on stormy cliff
Through a thousand notes of harmony
In your howling seaward riff.*

M.

The reason we hide our wounds and scars is not because we are ashamed of them, but because we don't want to share the pain with the people who love us.

i set my ringtone to a heartbeat
because i don't feel mine
enough to comfort me anymore,
but i get enough texts
to make it feel real.
i feel your words
trying to breathe me back to life,
but they aren't powerful enough
to do any good.
tell me to my face,
make the words more than words,
let me hear your voice crack
as you speak the truth that hurts you to be real,
write them out with your mother's lipstick
on your bathroom mirror at 3am again
just to bring them to life,
to make sure you're alive
and i'm alive
and i'm not living in a completely made-up universe.
your words are drumming against my ribs,
which are cracking and caving under the pressure and strain,
and the dread can't seem to find any of the exits.
my anxiety is here, trying to comfort me,
trying to lull me into her arms,
and she's holding my hand,
but it feels like it's 100 degrees when she's around
even though it's snowing outside
and so cold in my room that i can see my breath,
the only proof i'm a living human and not fiction or made up.
and she won't let go
because she's scared if she leaves me alone, i'll be alone forever.
i think my anxiety fears being alone more than i do.
my bones tremble when i'm alone
and they never seem to fully stop.
goosebumps cover me like blankets,
but nothing warms me anymore.