If you reach up for the moon it doesn't seem so far.
I could grab a ladder
Or climb a tree.
It doesn't seem so big.

I cannot remember another's touch-
on shoulder hand shake or the brush-
of being found too close
And I find it true to myself-
to be a satellite-
Touching all others intimate-
though our bodies never meet

Full Moon knows so much more
than she is telling
Seen so much more
than any single imagination
Has been getting inside minds
much more than they ever realise

You smuggled me in full view
across the Great River;
To stand me up on the opposite bank
clad in golden robes, and sceptre;
  Revealing the depths of love;
You have for your fragile creatures.

I wish I didn't feel so much
Because only now that I let you go
Does it truly feel like I'm falling

what does one do
when the universal dew no longer
contains galaxies? your skin does not smell
of silence and the freshness
of the sunrise has baked away
all that is eternal- and yet, tomorrow
will rise again, pulsing the endless heartbeat of
loading, loading, loading, in this vast connectivity of life
and death
and never quite there?
what does one do
when death grabs you by the hair and drags you out the door
and you are confused with the awareness
that you are not self aware
but your soul claimed the knowledge that one day, soon,
it will die, and all things live and progress
and end- people are things as well- we are scared that
the last thing that's left in the world is not true-
we shall pass, you shall pass, the grass regrows
but it too ends- and now, it is not the same- for we know
the grass has only the appearance of eternity,
and the sun dies each night, and your grandmother
will one day not be here, and neither will you,
your soul shines bright but all matches burn out
cannot live through the lives of those it ignites-
even your children are not a lasting legacy of you
they are only a legacy of themselves- their time will end too.
so, what does one do?

I texted you
at 12:30 a.m.
with a beer can on my bedside table,
asked you
if you remember
how my lips taste,
told you
it's been a while
since anyone's touched me
like you used to,
added
haha, I love you
to texts that
didn't quite make sense;

I asked for it.

That's what I keep
telling myself.
It's not ****
if I gave consent,
it's not ****
if you didn't touch me,
it's not ****
if I said yes when
you offered to make me less lonely.

I remember when
that boy you were always jealous of
told me he loved me,
I remember wanting to say it back,
I remember the smell of
my mom's *****
on his breath.

I said no.
Took his arm off my shoulder,
turned my head away,
told him not to kiss me,
told him not tonight,
told him he was drunk,
he was lying to himself,
he was just lonely,
he would not love me
in the morning.

I was right.
He told me
the last thing he remembered
was sitting down next to me,
he said
sorry if I tried anything,
I said he didn't.

My point is,

the boy I loved,
longed for,
still long for,
was giving himself to me,
his flushed cheek on my shoulder,
his hands in my hair,
my name on his lips,
and I said no.

My point is,

I, whom you knew to be vulnerable,
to be empty,
to be broken,
was begging you to save me,
my desire on your phone screen,
my scars in your memories,
my cries echoing in your eardrums,
and you asked for more.

My point is,

there comes a point
in every person's life
when they are given the choice
to do the right thing,
or do the wrong thing
and convince them self
it was the only option.

My point is,

I could have been
at your doorstep,
in your bedroom,
begging,
pleading,
naked,
ready,
and the right answer
still would have been
no.

My point is,

you did not **** me,
but you made me feel violated.
You are not a *** offender,
but you are an awful person.
I did say yes,
but you should have said no.

My point is,

I may have asked for it,
but that doesn't mean
you should've given it to me.

It feels like I only notice love while I'm dying
Every breath I take feels like it's way too much
Since you're counting down from three
I trust that you'll stay with me

It feels like I only notice love while I'm dying

It feels like I only notice love while I'm dying
I'd cut myself if I knew how to bleed
Just because I'm on morphine
doesn't mean my heart is as numb as me

It feels like I only notice love while I'm dying

It feels like I only notice love while I'm dying
Every step I take feels like it's way too far
If you want to hold my hand
as I go then I'll understand

It feels like I only notice love while I'm dying

It feels like I only notice love while I'm dying  
It feels like I only notice love while I'm dying