there is so much i'm afraid to ask you.

i want to know what it means
when it feels like a knife's blade
is trailing down your back whenever
anyone says ma'am or miss
but it doesn't carve into your flesh
the way you'd assume it might

i want to understand why i want
to carve and shape my chest
but don't mind if my curves stay
if it means i could wear a corset
and compress the rest of my body

i want to know why i am afraid to tell you
even though you're my best friend
and i know that you understand
and i know that you're here for me
but i'm afraid you will think
i am making it up as i go, like this
hasn't been long enough

but i have known something was wrong
for over a year

i didn't talk to you much then
even though i knew you for years

but i couldn't figure out why i was scared
why i am scared
why i have been scared of myself
and my body
and my mind
and i don't know where i am or what i'm doing
but i'm scared if i tell you now

it will be too late.

i know you know.

i don't have to tell you anything

but at the same time i know
that if i don't, you won't mold your words
around my mind, you won't plant
the flowers of change in your collar

and it's not because you wouldn't,

it's because i haven't given you a name for it.

one is a name you said reminded you of carnations

two is a name you told me existed

three is a name that even i am afraid to utter
because i don't feel right taking it from you
even if i tick all of the boxes perfectly.

it is a name i am not familiar with yet.

it is a name that would steal my parents' daughter
away from them

and it would not grant them a son either.

i want to talk about it so badly
but my lips won't form the words
and everyone around me has already
begun assimilating their language
without my telling them

i wish you would ask me what is wrong.

and i wish you would choose
'them'
for me.

i told him i could drive him home
after his safety was threatened
by the enter key.

he graciously thanked me
and curled into himself
the whole way home.

that evening, i asked him
if i had made the wrong choice
by smiling at him before school

all he said was no,
and that he appreciated my help
but that he was numb

today he asked me if i could
drive him home from school
next week

the quiver of his spacebar
was apparent to me even
without the barrier of speech,

his hesitance before
he touched the enter key
solidified the situation.

the enter key has hurt him
more than it has saved him
and i'll be honest with you

he is afraid to touch more
than just a key on the keyboard
he told me on the drive home

that he doesn't know affection
from inflection, that he recoils
at a handshake or hug

and honestly i don't blame him.
there are so many kinds of neglect
that even i can't name them all

but for someone who has been
left hanging in the dirt while the others
dance around them in circles

to simply accept how the world works
is absurd and unlikely. all of us
have our damages and we have all

been hurt by a touch.

so at the touch of an enter key
i tell him she lied to him
and he is, in fact, wonderful.

please, my love.
i can see the tension from behind
the screen and it's not towards
me but it's coming from you
because of the way her words
freeze into daggers

please, don't let her touch you.
she will only drive you further
into the depths of your mind where
the sun cannot find you and
i'm not sure if you'll ever come back

please, let me help you.
there isn't much i can do but when
i see the letters change from small to
large i can tell that's what your thoughts
are doing too and it scares me

please, force her to see you.
you are your own person with your own
thoughts and dreams and she is trying
to take that away from you so she can
keep it to herself as if you were a doll
or the answer to her problems

please, we are all concerned about you
i know it's getting worse and i know
your pride is too strong but when
the sky falls even superman would need
some help from his friends

she does not own you.
she wants to use you for herself
and even if you tell her no she
will cry and beg and blame
because she doesn't care that you
are stronger than she thinks

she thinks you are hers.

you do not belong to anyone.

please,

remember i am here beside you.
i cannot fix you or anyone or her
ego but really all of us are here

please,

be careful my love.

you are a breath
of fresh exuberance,
but also of nihilism
and the way cold air tastes

how do i make you
begin to fall for me
in the way that i might
want you to

without seeming like i'm
pushing you to the edge
of what is safe versus
what is good?

is it wrong that i miss
the innocence of new love,
that i'm dreaming of the moments
i haven't felt in years,

or that the nausea
of my bones shaking through
my knees is a feeling which
i would worship to receive?

the idea of your presence is
more overwhelming than that
of your physicality, for when
time stops at least i can visualize

the idea of you.

it is more than the idea of you.
it is that dreamy trance of youth
near midnight, when the lights
overtake your reality and the music

drums in your ears and all
which is visible becomes all which
is love, it is love in its truest
and purest form. or even the late

night conversations dripping
with the beating of hearts and
the urgency of dramatics,
and although we know of its

purposelessness, we still try
to fix it for our own sakes.
it is the feeling of staying up
and out way too late, of road

trips, of the rips in the knees
of your favorite jeans, and the
way you readjust your hair when
you think nobody is looking.

you will never fall for me
in the way i might want you to,
but as long as i have your hand
to hold in this tempest of sorts

the metaphor will become reality

and it'll all be okay.

i have known you for years
and when i say years
i mean it feels
like eternities

i mean the sketches i have
tucked away in an old journal
feel like they were formed
in mountain ridges

i think the edges
of our friendship
are tucked away in the corners
of your favorite jacket

and are protected

from the harsh winds

of chance

i like looking through old
yearbooks
and of all the students throughout
history
never have i found one
like you

you are unique to those
who know you
and to those who don't

and yet those that don't
can't see how

your eyes
lower when you smile
but even
nightfall
couldn't dull their shine

your hands
grip
a sketchbook-
your child, i presume

your face
lights up
and becomes an autumn
sunset
when you remember
that thing you meant to say

but wait-

never mind

you calculated our reactions
and though i insist
you do not budge

but the
mischievous glint
remains

and i must ask

am i allowed...

is it okay if...

would you mind if i...

but i cannot
say

how being near you
overwhelms me
with this energy

perhaps

the warmth
will burn me
from the inside

and

perhaps

you will flash me
that smirk

and i will melt?

am melting?

have been melting?

i cannot explain except
that you are the reddish-gold
of crisp
air

you are
the
bubble
of
chills
in the crook
of my neck

i see you
in dreams

you don't act
like you would

but i know
it's you

i do not stand
a chance with you

i cannot
breathe
my heart
to you

i am afraid

you are

too

perfect

~

although

you

cannot

see

it

he told the boy
that he loved him

and the boy smiled
and sadly shook his head
and with an
"i'm sorry"
the boy wiped his
hopes away

but he persisted
and followed the boy
in most everything he did

he burnt rosemary
as an offering
and decorated the candles
with candied ginger
and cloves

it wasn't until
they found him
alone on his couch
asleep
forever

that anyone knew
what had happened
or that anything seemed amiss

he loved the boy
too hard

and when the boy
didn't love him back

he was too
disappointed
to cry

so he became
a bottle of coke
and the more he was shaken
the faster he went

i left the remnants
of my disappointment
in the collar
of my favorite
shirt

there for the universe
to find

the tie
became a noose
choking out any last hope
i had
for redemption

and i shredded
the jeans which
illuminated
my hips and thighs

my stomach
will not play nice
for as i taunt it
it screams vindictively

i hid the anguish
under my fingernails
until they had to be clipped
and then there was
nowhere

and so i curled
into a ball
in the coldest of oceans
waiting for the heat
of a volcano
to swallow
me up

but the volcano
won't come

i've been waiting
for a long time

and the warmth
just isn't there

my chest aches
still

you would think the cold
would have numbed it
by now