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ab Aug 10
the more you open
the can of worms
that is your vulnerability

the more i realize
how you see yourself
and how i see you
and
your
sparkle

while you hold
firm in the face
of my tears and frustrations

you respond to yours
by withdrawing,
by retreating,
by ignoring texts and
holding your breath

i retreat as well.

communication terrifies me
i have always avoided it
until now

i am more scared of
what would happen
if i kept quiet.

i oh-so-often want
you to know

i can see you building
yourself back up
from rubble

pulling through life
is the hardest thing
you could do

and guess what,
you’re doing it.

your beauty radiates
from every smile,
every kiss,
every breath.

you’re the only one
who has told me i was beautiful
and i believed it.

when i listed my diagnoses
you joked about taking notes
but it wasn’t a joke

you took those notes

they sit, whirring behind your eyes,
reminding you that perhaps
our brains work in sync

“unspecified” we laughed,
something bad happened,
i just don’t get the nightmares.

i haven’t really told you
what that trauma was,
exactly,

you’ve seen me shut down
because the idea of you
drinking that
stuff
was too much

i’ve lashed out at
unexpected intoxication

but the wheels spun faster
when i told you what we share,
when the anger bubbled up,
“how didn’t they know sooner?”

but in reality,

we function poorly
individually

but together we balance -
i make plans so
we can be impulsive

you hold me closer
when i shiver at night
~you are beautiful in every aspect of the word
ab Jul 6
the only one i
have
ever seen a future with

i am afraid
you will tell me you don’t
love me
anymore

it gnaws
in my brain and
my dreams poke
fun at the fear

there is
no reason why
but perhaps attention
will shift from me

low maintenance is all
i want to be
you told me you’re burnt
out

of affection

scared hands turn to hover
i cry too much
and i hate myself for it

convinced myself you
probably are just busy
which you are
but then i fear

being four texts
in a row
feels like begging

you don’t know my
fear, he left me
without a hint

spent months selling out
for dopamine and affection
and only got a sore jaw

you held me when i cried
the first time i tried for you

i cry too much
and
i hate myself for it
~ i love you so deeply and it took me so long to get here
ab Jun 29
“a maybe isn’t a yes”
as you ran your thumb
across my bottom lip

my hesitation was
palpable as my breath
hitched in my trachea

you could see i was
unsure, so you stopped.
“an ‘i don’t know’ isn’t a yes”

without a hint of disappointment
you rolled over and pulled
your shorts back up

over your thighs.
i feared the press towards
“come on, we don’t have all night”

but the press never came.
your roaming hands held me
elsewhere, bewildered and confused

like a creature rescued
from a life of torment
i whispered softly

“yeah, maybe not tonight.”

later you mentioned it took
me so much longer to
give myself to you

than the few girls
you’ve touched before.
if you had held me a few years

ago, we would’ve touched
on the first date, tasted
my anxiety sooner

because my “yes”
has always been one
of wanting to please.

i never wanted those boys
the way i hold you now
all five-foot-ten and blushing

when you pull my hips
to yours, it is without
a hint of deceit, without

the need to feel something
from nothing, without the
intent of simply feeling inside.

my head cradled in your palms-
“is everything okay?”
there is no reluctance

in being honest, no
parsed words- simply tears
and a hug. whether words

or lips, there is safety
with you, a safety that
would be sad to ignore.
~the first person i have ever loved this way
ab Dec 2018
why is there a line
between living wholly
and holding on to scraps
of grieving our futures

why am i grieving a life
i haven't lived yet?
or why aren't i filling it
with the kindness of years

well lived? when you realize
your own mortality, does it bite
you as hard as it bites me?
you won't talk about it though.

none of us will.

it's a cycle of awareness
i've barely spoken to you because you
are being reminded day in, day out
that breathing is optional to your body

i am sickeningly aware that
my dosage is wrong
and my blood is pounding in my kidneys
and behind my eyes

you're having a series of bad days
i wonder if your body screams like mine
or if the pain ties you in knots
but i know you don't talk about it.

none of us do.

we pretend we're not sick
and that the ringing in our ears
or the bubbling behind our teeth
doesn't mean anything

"it's fine, i'm used to it"

it's not fine.
it is the ultimate self-denial,
the breakdown of our bodies
things we choose to forget

when you chose me,
you chose somebody who knows pain
somebody who is also afraid
and would sometimes rather give up

but you now know someone else
who is grieving.

are you grieving?

i heard that grief
is just love with
no place to go

and life is one of the greatest loves

through life i can love

no matter how my body
wants to take it from me.
~chronic illness isn't cute, it can rip people apart even if it's "not a big deal"
ab Dec 2018
keeping it light
drums towards 4am
playful and whole

how you see me, i couldn't say
but your fingers trace my back
like words you cannot speak

the words i spoke felt
right in my shaking hands
and you paused to consider them

next to 4am lies overnight
which is where hands wander
and the silence drips in urgency

you wanted to consume what you could
tasting without a mouth but your spirit
handfuls of raspberries cupped in your palms

i woke up to your arm resting
on my waist, i turned from you
in the night (i don't know why)

and while i wrote these words
you called me down, crying prophecies,
lips shaking and eyes swollen red

dark magic, you called it
or the presence of knowing far too much.
naming your spirit guide, i twisted my tongue

i will speak for you tonight
and remind whoever hears
to shake you of your walls

if that is something you might do

without force

i hold you to my lips
~you told me you knew how to speak in tongues without a god
ab Nov 2018
it terrifies me
that i can see a future in your eyes

a future
our future

i can't look at you
when others sit around us
your pull is too strong
and your soul too bright

do i want to see you?
and the way you laugh
and the sparkle in your eye-
what a reflection upon me!

i will not abandon you here
no matter how it overwhelms me

i am watching you fall in love
and i am not used to it-
knowing you want to hold me,
always running on an exhale

tomorrow and the next day
and forever are vivid
nobody annoys me more
or brings question marks to my eyes

quite like you.

i am at odds with a mirror!

this is not a love
that i know anything about
your hands on my face, in
my back pockets, tight on my waist

nobody has ever been gentle before
you hold me like a treasure
(i am not)

i have always been consumed.

i have always insisted
until now

i
did not ask
i
didn't have to
you
melted onto me
you
caught me by surprise

but it is your name (and name alone)
that fits so well
between my lips

and i end up spitting pearls
chewing marble
cradling ivory

(you are not your name,
you are tomorrow)
~why does he remind me of obsidian?
ab Nov 2018
i always expected your hands
to be colder than they are
and your pulse to be steady

but sleepy smiles breathe blue light
and you almost kiss my forehead
nearly interlock fingers

before you catch yourself
and lie there against me
it's my fear through you, i know

i've stopped thinking tomorrow
will be the same as always
there is no longer any "same"

this afternoon i saw the words
"you deserve someone who isn't confused
about how they feel about you"

it made me sick to think
that i'm supposed to be sure
about an uncertain sensibility

you're stronger than i expected
a sea foam green breath of air
youthful but so sure

a shape shifting creature, it seems
to them a staccato exhale
towards me, legato and full

an armful of existence.

i recognize it but do not feel
it besides an ache in my core
reminding me that it is unfinished

the end of which

i do not know

but i can taste in the emptiness
of the evening
~i'm so tired of myself
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