i'm so sorry, love
i told you -
i'm bad at descriptions
what i meant to say is
you're one of my favorite people
and i love our conversations
and god i'm going to miss you when you're gone
but i didn't
i was noncommittal
i said "nice" and "interesting"
and made it sound like
i wouldn't miss you that much
well
that's wrong.
i already know you're going to leave -
you're a senior,
after all -
but i'd prefer it
if you didn't leave sooner
and if your leaving
wasn't permanent
you're worrying me now
so please listen
i'm so sorry
i'm bad at descriptions
and you mean more to me
than i could ever say

you
are the brightest colors in my palette
with which i paint
the most beautiful pictures

you
have inspired me
to paint pictures
of light and happiness

you
are the stars and galaxies
on my midnight blue skies
supernovas of light

you
are the lilies
somehow growing and flourishing
in the messy muck of my soul

you
are my muse
my inspiration
and the one i love the most

it's been years now
but it's because of you
that i don't think i'll ever
look at potential partners
the same way
again

galaxies of freckles
stippled across skin
stretch marks
made of outreaching nebulae
eyes like stars
and minds holding
entire universes
children of the deep
made of stardust
and dark matter
and yet some find themselves
imperfect

i think i'm fat.
i say "think" because
everyone tells me
i'm not
when i bring it up
maybe i'm not
"fat",
per se,
but i'm not thin,
nor am i healthy.
i gorge myself
on carbs and chocolate,
caffeinating to the point of
insomnia,
ignoring exercise
every chance i get.
there are other words for me,
somewhat flattering words-
chubby,
curvy,
squishy,
huggable.
i know someone
who would add words like
"cute" and "pretty" and "beautiful"
to that list.
i don't believe her.
i love her and care about her
more than she knows,
but i don't believe her.
i find no beauty in fat,
no cuteness in stretch marks.
i find only
ugliness
and self-hatred.
i've been trying to change that,
for both her
and myself.
i know how horrible it feels
to look in the mirror
and hate what i see,
to skip meals
and squirm from the discomfort
of my hunger
but bear it
and not take a bite
for fear of more stretch marks
and added pounds.
i might change that,
eventually-
eat a little healthier,
embrace my curves and squishiness,
but for now,
it's who i am.
i guess,
for now,
it's just
me.

i remember
the breeze on my skin
and the texture of the blanket
i remember
letting you in
because i couldn’t say no
i remember
feeling disgusted
and asking myself what i was thinking
i remember
finding out the word for it
a word i had already known
a word i didn’t know i could apply to this
i remember
writing my first words about this
scared to share my pain
i remember
the first time i lifted my head
and said “me too”
i remember
the first time i told someone
scared that they’d think less of me
and now
i am beginning to come to terms
with what happened to me
and soon
i will remember
all of this
and i won’t panic or shut down

have you ever noticed
how i live for your texts
and the joy of our conversations?
i don't know if you have -
i can hide things better than i used to.
you intrigue me
and make me smile
(though i haven't figured out
your sense of humor
yet)
and i hope i make you smile too.
you're one of my favorite people -
i think you've noticed that by now.
when i'm not smiling
you comfort me
and keep me from doing anything
particularly stupid
and i'd just love to know
which angel i pleased
so that i've been blessed with
you.
have you ever noticed
how i put you before me
and worry about you
and care
just a little too much?
i'd think you have -
that,
i make no effort to hide.
you once called yourself
a demon
and i disagree -
you're a guiding angel
sent from heaven,
and, for some reason,
you were sent to
me.
have you ever noticed
how i'm falling so hard
and just daring to hope
that you,
with your halo
and your golden wings
and your gentleness,
will catch me
before i land.

i’m going to do it
i’m going to tell her
about what happened
almost three years have passed
but i’ll tell her
nothing can be done
it’s already passed
and he lives in california
but it will be off of my chest
though i will still dredge up the memories
still hear the fire in my ears
and feel the screaming in my soul
and my body
that never left
even now, i am
afraid of him
and of all like him
whether or not they are
i must be as careful as i can
as must all people
but now i will be living
a life without him
it will be
better eventually though i do not know
when it will be
but it will be
and the process has begun

i. deep hazel eyes
dark brown hair
reasonable and kind
the earth
grounded and content

ii. glowing pale skin
freckled galaxies
emotional and gentle
the stars
floaty and unsatisfied

iii. lightyears apart
the other
always in view
never to be touched
a deep yearning

iv. long distance love
flames
with only the hope
of an eventual meeting

where will i find myself in two years?
barely dragging myself out of bed every morning
alone and stressed to the point of snapping?

or, maybe, somehow

i will wake up every morning
likely exhausted
but happy.

happy.
that’s a thought.
a fleeting, fickle thought,
but a thought nonetheless.
i don’t remember the last time i could say
“i’m happy”
without it being at least partially a lie.

i’m just used to it now.
when we had to write lists for inspiration
so we could write this poem
one of the lists was “5 things i am an expert in”
and number 3 on my list
was depression!

number 5 was falling in love.
falling in love.

falling in love is my saving grace.
my love has found me
broken, ******, and bruised.
not my bones
but my heart
shattered into too many pieces
broken glass
that cuts anyone who tries to come near it.

most people leave when they realize that.
one adopted me, but that’s just what she does.
but my love didn’t leave.
she found my bruises and wounds
and bandaged them
and somehow
fell deeper in love with me.

thank you.