girl swirls dreams in her drink.
boy spills ink on the carpet.

they swing below an oak;
laugh and dream, kiss and consider.
their feet curl, intertwine,
touch along the fallen leaves.

in hands and time
is the condensation of what is said to be true love.
only they don’t know.

later that night;
they drink and cuss, they fight and ****.
their feet curl, intertwine,
play at the end of the sheets.

they warm.
boy writes librettos,
girl reads them,
together they cook delicious dishes.

girl disappears into the distance,
one day.
& boy spirits away,
to the elephant burial grounds.

days,
months,
years later, they run into eachother on the streets
of a northwestern city.
smile mostly,
say not much.

boy has his poetry.
girl has her *******.

I bit open a lie and it tasted like you.

i had thought
the boy in my computer science class
with the foreign skin and army outfit
was the epitome of adorable
breaking into spanish when he got overexcited about learning
which was always
and i was excited when we were paired together today
until he seemed genuinely impressed by my competency
and contributed nothing
suddenly his misunderstandings of gender and sexism no longer
seemed like something i could cutely teach him about
but a tragic flaw
and a person i didn't want to be around

we degrade ourselves and then expect help.
we fuel our sleepless bodies with chemicals in hope of relief
our hands tremble like tectonic plates under pressure
we watch the clock, studying it like a face we want to remember.
stride for greatness
collapse in fear
dance with monsters
act out our parents solilquies of marriages unravelling into a single thread
a routine
we look overhead, eyes filled with smog and proclaim everyone else is at fault
human condition
is a disease
we estimate minutes of sleep for hours of travel.
anything to fall away from the busy city life
we idolize others and disregard ourselves
and then we ask why aren't we happy to strangers, getting paid hourly to offer suggestions that should be habitual in the first place.

If I was a mountain

That soared towards the sky,

With craggy snow caps

And stormy grey eyes-



Then you'd be the clouds

That swaddled my peak,

That silenced my thunder

When I tried to speak.



If I was the earth

The desert, in fact:

With arid dry soil

And mud, baked and cracked-



You'd be the rain

The downpour that soothed;

The balm to my bruises,

Relief to my wounds.



If I was the Moon

In the indigo night,

With stars as my blanket

And silver; my light-



Well you'd be the Sun

Just always behind

That lent me your glow

And caused me to shine.

something's got an iron grip on my heart and i know it's not a person but there's no doubt in my mind that there are fingers squeezing the blood out of my heart like a ripe orange, trying to stop the beat beat my chest is being controlled by an invisible hand that is crushing my ribcage and compressing the most delicate parts of me oh im sorry that i can't love you but dear god i cannot breathe somebody please help my face is turning blue all i'm looking for is an escape from this hell can't you hear me screaming i am choking on stale air i am tired of where i am oh
living is difficult when you've forgotten how to breathe