butterfly of night.
softer, quieter
darker, heavier.
open up your wings and float into the moon
like you did in my dream where
i sighed through the forest
and had violet hair

missing your bony covered wrists that you hate but i love and your stiff hair that you only let me play with and the way you looked at your feet when you smiled and the way you looked at me and the way you walked and the way we sat together and the way you held me once and the way i held you once and your soft skin and hazy hazel eyes and big-enough hands and the way we’d talk and the way we knew how we felt and the way everyone else knew too and your smell your smell your smell and when you’d get close to me and your smell

my mom wouldn't let me go to a party the other night because she said
there'd be drinking and drugs and i wouldn't belong
and i yelled back
that i don't belong anywhere

the most exciting part of my life is you and you’re barely even in it anymore

i always wonder when things will be okay.
not forever, just until they're not again
and my bed stops smelling like Tide and starts smelling like me
and the water bill goes up and the phone bill goes down
and my heart starts to hurt like it used to.
i wonder when i won't walk with an anchor in my chest
when the people who cared start caring again
when i remember what feeling like myself feels like.
when i won't be embarrassed around razors
when i'll be tired as often as i say i am
when i'll try as hard you wish i would.

she talked about the hospital
with a wish waiting on her cheek
glowy face and nervous fingers twisted.
"felt like nothing"
what does that make me?
no, we're all everything
and i know because i felt it
as we sat in the ****** light
and read horoscopes aloud

she is a butterfly
i am a moth

every time i don't know what to do i want to hear your voice

the sky looked like peaches
vanilla-lavender light pooled onto my dashboard
another song that reminds me of you started singing through the stereo and i squeezed water out of my eyes to try to wash you away

the soft air dried my tears against too-pink cheeks
and i sang along and tried to forget what’s not mine

i wish i knew how to forget you

am i supposed to feel sick when i think about you

you were bony and soft and you talked with your face up close to mine and you’d look at my mouth when we spoke and you made adoration bubble in the apples of my cheeks when i looked at you and you smelled like milk and home

i always thought i'd lose it to you
in your borrowed twin bed with the plastic candy coating squeaking under sheets.
i always thought you'd touch my face and kiss me by the river and
i'd be in my red sweatshirt that i remembered so i'd never forget.
i always thought that i'd pull you into that dip in the trees near the circus
and finally melt our stretchy boundary.
i always thought you'd come around.
i always thought it was you.

when i think about you
and it feels free.
but i still remember how you smelled like milk and honey
how did you do that
like a baby almost
how did you do that
and a little musky
but i liked it.
your lips were so wet and so pink and i wanted them
on me
near me
wrapped around me
and you knew you came close but you never did.
****.
i always thought i'd see you again
smiling "i told you so" into your mouth through the smog
but i probably never will
and even if i do
it'll be by accident
and you won't even stop to
touch me.