i am here sitting quietly doing nothing but
thinking
and i can see vividly in my head the color of your birthmark
(and i can feel myself crying)
do you remember mine?
do you remember my scars and coldsores and bruises?

the light turned green
and he put down his phone
and headed home

the roads were bumpy
and curvy and long
like the tracks of a ******

and he thought of his
and hers and in between
and he let his brain fizz

his hands gripped the wheel
tighter,

you like a girl with teeth too big to fit into her mouth
(i'm glad i grew out of my buckteeth)

-she's autumn
(and that's my favorite season)
always a little red in the face,
and that's my favorite color
(especially on her)

-i like her because she's all early september
(which means staying in bed until after 10)

-and she always holds me when i feel like i'm falling apart
(which is often)

-she kisses like 4th of july
(which means HARD)
and my ears are still ringing
(which means i can't think about anything else)

-she's all firecrackers and campfires
(i can still smell her on my clothes in the morning)

-she's the reason i'm trying so hard
(which is to say)
i love you

she said i only love the
enticing parts of people,
the same way i highlight
my favorite lines in books
so i’ll have something to
focus on when i decide
to blow the dust off their
spines.
you’re missing everything
and you know it and
you don’t care,
she said.
you’re missing the real
parts. you’re cheating people
out of themselves.

even then, i wanted to
quote her.

i want you to be here when
i’m no longer soft and beautiful.
i want you to stay for when
my voice slips out of itself
and into another, when the crescent moons
of my body turn stubborn and rigid
and my chest is gutted, stitched, sculpted
like marble like artwork like a chiseled
gravestone reading “here lies your golden girl,
basked in till her light changed hues.”
stay until all my cells have been replaced
and i look at you with different eyes,
hold you with different arms.
this body is changing for my today
but staying for your tomorrow.

keep
the black hole,
the cherry pit

of self loathing
tucked neatly
away
at the back of your throat,
beneath

your tongue and
for god’s sake
don’t let it slip
from behind your teeth and
into your
speech-
when you
do, everything
after
is slurred and
*****.

so keep.
keep the self loathing-
away.

keep it at the bottom
of your pocket
and let it
sink
into the holes of your jeans along with
your house key and
your lighter and
the spare pills.

keep this feeling
in the folded palm of
your hand.

keep pretending
like none of this
bothers
you
until you can taste
the cyanide
in all the cherry pits
you’ve been choking yourself
on.

but don’t ever
try to pretend
that no one ******* loves
you
when you know they do

and keep yourself
together
long enough
to realize
how wrong
they were.

How can

I ever

Get you to understand.. I

Have never felt so