commune, o lovers!
follow the stars!
your manna is not yet redeemed!

stand guard, lovers!
your sweet contraband
sets tired souls to envy!

16 years
but i am old
i am worn

16 years
i am tattered
i am torn

16 years
i thought was enough
but here you are
you made me tough

Time is a dandelion sprouting up between jagged cracks in the sidewalk
It is a child ripping that dandelion from the ground
Time is standing at a truck stop between here and nowhere at midnight
It is the empty dark and the smell of gasoline
Time is fingers playing a black grand piano effortlessly
It is the splintering of the piano string
Time is a fluorescent, sterile doctor's office after a collapse
It is the "I'm so sorry"
Time is the green tiled bathroom with the broken shower curtain
It is the positive and it needs to be the negative
But time is not the ticking of the clock
But it is the sound that softly ricochets off the walls as you lie awake

When I Love You-
you’ll know it.
I’ll hand myself over like a bird.
you’ll have to care for me,
because I can break.
you can crush me, in your hands, if you want
but I-am trusting
I am not-naive
no,
I know what COULD happen
I am loving,
because in spite of it,
I hand myself over.

When I Love You-
you’ll know it.
I will become a collection of all your lost parts.
I will continue organizing your memories until I am your own
     personal encyclopedia
your secrets I will share with no one
your fears
your likes and dislikes
your history
no one
you, and only you, will have the key.

When I Love You-
you’ll know it.
I’ll sing a song of “I love you’s”
because the thought of you not knowing that I do
scares me-
more than anything.
ok-
Almost-anything

When I Love You-
you’ll know it.
because of that one thing that I am so scared of
I’m scared when you’re all gone.
when I’m not near anyone I love it really really scares me
and this has effected my actions and personality so, that…

When I Love You-
you’ll know it.
because I will cling to any part of you that I can hold onto
and when I’m not doing that,
I will grab your arm
or your hand
or touch your cheek shoulder something anything
because I am reaching past your skin
through your muscle
the heat of your body is not what I am craving
it is more than the touch of your skin I am looking for
I need your soul.
to hear the words that language can not form,
the connection…

Haven’t you ever touched someone,
and heard a story?
heard the words you needed to hear
felt safe?
not because the skin you are touching is strong,
not because you know it will protect you
just because,
you’re touching it
you’re hearing their story
because their words surround you like a blanket.
they block everything else out.

So when I touch you-
when I Love You,
please don’t run away so fast.
let me hear your story.
let me feel safe.
because no matter how long it’s actually been,
a month
a year
to me
it was an eternity
of being in the cold
of being in the snow-
without my blanket…



               I don’t know... why I am like this,
               why I…
               Love, like, this
               but I promise you,
               when I Love You-
               you’ll know it.

I keep finding peaches
Peaches
I don't think it's possible to not smile when you say the word
they turn my cheeks the same color as their skin
it makes me grin and laugh to see them sunbathing on the banister
lining the window sills like shining trophies
on my porch like children climbing to Set upon the tallest object They can find
beaming as children do

Maybe it's cuz I grew up in the south
Knowing you have to set them out And wait for them to be soft to
     the touch
let them ripen in the Sun so you can then pick your fruit that up
     until now has been forbidden
it's like a little fuzzy ball of gold Sunshine warming your face and
     your mouth
I love the word peaches

maybe it's the memory,
the name,
Peaches
“chin up, peaches”
it carrie's such an innocence such a light-hearted, free-spirited
     happiness.
something warm and welcoming and something I could only find at home

maybe it's the breakfast
peaches and cream
three ingredients
so happy, so creamy, so sweet, smooth, summary, comforting
it's what my grandma would give me
so sugary, yet so filling
it reminds me of her
it tastes how she act
it is her hyperbole
peaches and cream is a grandmother
it's as sweet as her voice
as comforting as her touch
as filling as her hug
and as smooth as her skin.

maybe it's all three
either way
this time of Peach field windowsills will come again next year
and the year after that
and the year after that
until I am the grandmother they represent
and every year, I will smile.

the smoke from his lips
quietly omits into the dark

he turns to face me with
his bloodshot, glossy eyes

"i want you" the drugs said

the substance in his system
had complete control over him.

- you never wanted me