My stomach turns.
I should be sleeping.
but I can't.

I'm afraid
terrified really

That I'm not good enough for you
That I'm not what you're looking for
That I'm not what you want in a girl

What if you find someone new that is what you're looking for?

And what if you already found her?
Yet you let her slip away
You talk about her like she was all you could ever hope for
Why didn't you take that chance and grab her while you could?

Now you're stuck with me
And I don't think I could be any of the things she is

What if she comes back?
Then what do I become?
I become the cookie dough you eat while you wait for the cookies to finish baking
I may be nice in the moment
But overall I'm a bad idea
And just a way to pass time

And that's why
I'm afraid
terrified really

a.a.

****
isn't always dark alleys
and whistles
and pepper spray.
It isn't always
a stranger,
they don't always
look dangerous.
Whether it is
your boyfriend
or your teacher
or your uncle,
they are no longer on your side.
This is your attacker.
Do not be silent.
Do not be afraid to make a scene.
Whether it is a movie theatre
or a street corner
or your bedroom,
yell,
scream,
curse,
bite,
spit,
let no resonate from your lungs
so they cannot say they didn't hear you.
Send him home,
tell your parents,
tell your friends,
tell the police.
****
is not always
drunk men outside bars
or keys clenched between white knuckles.
Sometimes **** is silent.
Do not be silenced.

The fact that love demands ***,
but *** does not demand love
tells me only to be weary
of humanity,
and the priorities we set for ourselves.

I do not believe in your God,
yet the piece of me
that I have given to you,
will define itself with your catholicism,
and you,
my darling priest,
will always be the closest to God
that I dare to reach.

all the proof I need,
of relativity,
is the fact that in this moment,
it feels like minutes are hours.
and hours are days
and seconds are lifetimes,
in the blink of an eye.

She is beautiful
Like a dancing flame

With eyes as enticing
As her name

She is a shooting star
In the dark of the night

Flying so far away
To an unreachable height

Twinkling, shining
While someone makes a wish

Indeed there is an ocean
But there is only one fish

Drops and drips—
They bring me back,
Back when I touched your lips
And you smiled, with me
But then cried, weakly
Tears lost in the rain
Eyes veiled by the drizzle
Because you said
We could never be together
And then cities fell
And the moon crumbled to dust
You left me in the rain
Drops and drips—
They bring me back

anxiety consuming,
sleep deprivation sinking in
more coffee than I care to admit.

attractive men
passing
without a passing glance

still flustered from security
bobby pins alarming.
terrorism, undoubtedly.

still people watching.
hoping some man
might look my way.

remember I look 12,
not 21.
maybe I am just ugly.

doesn't help that I am
holding onto Oliver,
my stuffed turtle,

as if he is
the life
hiding in my soul.

coffee, coming back to me.
every emotion intensified.
bladder swollen, nervous.

only 9 hours,
to home.
if ever there was.