and this is what
my door is shut

But can you love me in the deep? In the dark? In the thick of it?
Can you love me when I drink from the wrong bottle and slip through the crack in the floorboard?
Can you love me when I’m bigger than you, when my presence blazes like the sun does, when it hurts to look directly at me?
Can you love me then too?
Can you love me under the starry sky, shaved and smooth, my skin like liquid moonlight?
Can you love me when I am howling and furry, standing on my haunches, my lower lip stained with the blood of my last ****?
When I call down the lightning, when the sidewalks are singed by the soles of my feet, can you still love me then?
What happens when I freeze the land, and cause the dirt to harden over all the pomegranate seeds we’ve planted?
Will you trust that Spring will return?
Will you still believe me when I tell you I will become a raging river, and spill myself upon your dreams and call them to the surface of your life?
Can you trust me, even though you cannot tame me?
Can you love me, even though I am all that you fear and admire?
Will you fear my shifting shape?
Does it frighten you, when my eyes flash like your camera does?
Do you fear they will capture your soul?
Are you afraid to step into me?
The meat-eating plants and flowers armed with poisonous darts are not in my jungle to stop you from coming. Not you.
So do not worry. They belong to me, and I have invited you here.
Stay to the path revealed in the moonlight and arrive safely to the hut of Baba Yaga: the wild old wise one… she will not lead you astray if you are pure of heart.
You cannot be with the wild one if you fear the rumbling of the ground, the roar of a cascading river, the startling clap of thunder in the sky.
If you want to be safe, go back to your tiny room — the night sky is not for you.
If you want to be torn apart, come in. Be broken open and devoured. Be set ablaze in my fire.
I will not leave you as you have come: well dressed, in finely-threaded sweaters that keep out the cold.
I will leave you naked and biting. Leave you clawing at the sheets. Leave you surrounded by owls and hawks and flowers that only bloom when no one is watching.
So, come to me, and be healed in the unbearable lightness and darkness of all that you are.
There is nothing in you that can scare me. Nothing in you I will not use to make you great.
A wild woman is not a girlfriend. She is a relationship with nature. She is the source of all your primal desires, and she is the wild whipping wind that uproots the poisonous corn stalks on your neatly tilled farm.
She will plant pear trees in the wake of your disaster.
She will see to it that you shall rise again.
She is the lover who restores you to your own wild nature.

What I tell myself while
Asking,
Covering my tracks that
Show I'm suicidal,
The pretty lies that cover up
The cuts I caused myself.
Wanting to cease existing
To the point no one remembers my name.
Hate and Numb
but i'm fine.
Please I just need to talk
I say to the darkness, It ignores me. You ignore me.
You were Always
never
There.

It's funny;
how the fires of desire can
make you do terrible things,
how one sweet kiss can cause
a war inside someone.
I never meant for this to happen
but you let it happen.
I'm not one for trust
but I chose to let you in;
I should have known you'd
drop my heart with your indecisive hands.
I know it wasn't right
to love someone who belonged
to somebody else,
but in the heat of the moment
I lost my mind.
In the heat of my love,
I lost myself.
How could I possibly
think about her
when I had your tongue in my mouth?
How could I possibly
think about her
when you are all I think about?
I know I played a part
in breaking her heart
but you broke mine all on your own.
I keep hearing 'sorry' roll off
your sweet tongue,
keep hearing broken apologies in
your voice;
I just need you to know
your pretty words do not
stitch me back up.
And darling, I wish I could forgive you.
I wish 'sorry' could fix my heart
as easily as it fixed hers.
But 'sorry' falls on deaf ears
when you've heard it all before.
And I've heard it all before.

My visions of future nightmares;
staring the ones I hold closest
to my beating heart.

Leave me paralyzed with the fear.
Of tragedies, yet to happen.
Things people shouldn't know
but somehow I've managed,
to be thrown in the medium.

It's like someone or something,
is trying to show me uncharted territory.
Curiosity killed the cat.
But sometimes we've been chosen by
forces greater than ourselves to serve a higher purpose.
Before we can even think of coming home.

This skin feels just one size too small.
When I try to stretch,
It holds me back.
I find my arms and legs are still bent,
Just waiting until they can really extend
Out into the world
Grabbing what they want,
Running where they want.
Waiting till they are
Free.