Close.
Run, and don’t look back. Those were the last words you told yourself before you stopped talking. The last memory you chose to take with you into nowhere.
You think of the stars now. The stars and the sky that you didn’t look at long enough. You wish you could open your eyes now. You wish you didn’t have eyes to open.
You hold yourself so you can love and be loved. You don’t love yourself but you don’t trust anyone else to try. You don’t know what love is, other than a part of an existence you don’t want to forge.
You growl. You hear a growl. You don’t know the difference, or what’s in your head. There is pressure, and with that ceaseless compression comes the freedom to stop caring.
You have no beliefs, not even that another moment will come, and especially not that it should.
You’ve been trying for a while now to find your body, while denying that you never left. You’re well-versed in fighting against yourself. You’ve practiced on both sides, enough to stall out a win for eternity.
You can put off opening your eyes as long as you want, while pretending there is nothing to see…
Open.

it's worth
noticing                                                           the light
beyond
the lengths of
shadow

i don't know why i
do the things i do sometimes
i don't know how to try sometimes
i only want to cry

i don't know how my head works
i don't know why so many things
hurt i can't think i can't
speak the rains that sting me
can't communicate across the gaps
between we

sometimes
sometimes i don't want to be
sometimes i wish someone would break me
sometimes i don't know how many times
i can't count seconds but i can count smiles
because there are so few sometimes my thoughts
are circles and knots that can't be unraveled at least
not by me but no one else is keeping track either and
i'll lose myself and keep losing myself and keep
coming to places where i don't know what to do with myself until i

fall

To those who like
(you could say I'm fishing
to see who's)
reading between
(paying attention to
the meaning of)
the lines

There is no
.
to this poem

In all my life I never tried to
.
out the wisdom I didn't know

I re
ac
(hed)
ted
the wrong way a few
x

I still do at
x
but I care about *s
and try not to care about #s

I pay attention to i's
both of them

One day someone will find me in the
lab
r
(nth degree - the lengths I'd go to to hide and wish to be found)

I think that's the
.

Whistling
into vibrations
to create texture
to taste feeling
moving to feel temperature
air circulating coolly to touch extremities
to invoke shivers, to remind of smiles
to remember hands and warmth
hands and intertwining fingers
fingers, delicate and familiar
eyes, smiling and

dangerous
the void left in wake
the space of silence
the moments spent wondering
a lifetime spent wandering in search of
more

moments
the meaning of finding
the nothing to find but more things to explore
the spots marked by stopping to ponder
the pain caused by stopping to ponder
the connections that make shape
in the form of a

path
leading from place to place
person to person
challenge to challenge
wound to wound
stitching together flesh, rhythmically,
perpetually, while walking
hurting builds

strength
in the form of a hard face
longing to be broken
going all this time searching for a way to be broken
waiting for a person to share smiles with again
waiting for a place worthy of stopping
and removing gloves from lonely fingers
and sharing

memories
memories from solitude
from the years of

wandering
call yourself

wanderer
watching so long for a place to

pause
all nonparallel paths must eventually

cross
with kind

eyes, glistening eyes, breathing again
warm breath condensing in air
laughs radiating in air
moving to feel temperature,
to share temperature
moving to taste experience
slowing down to taste a moment
worth finding
with a person worth stopping for.

I can feel your fingers from miles away
I can close my eyes and feel close breaths in memory
and tingle as if closing the space of centimeters

In my daydreams we collide in an instant
In the nighttime my eyes are dripping,
your lips on my forehead

I feel heartbeats in my steps,
I feel spaces in between everything-
too large, but not empty enough to be an escape

In lust I can express my sadness
In knowing eyes that understand too well
In the motion of waves, and salt water

Let's move together and hold each other's sadness
In the space that once contained love
In the space where two children continue to grow up

In old friends that don't take moments like these for granted
In old souls that are frustrated with the woes of adolescence
In an answer to a question that was never asked

In heartbeats sensed from less-than-centimeters away
and spaces filled in
and tongues locking fiercely, then softly, we'll part.

And the wind will sigh and we will take it for what it is:
exactly what we needed.
I'll see you when we've found ourselves.

****. Yes. I'm -
my sorrows away. Wrong -
myself into a black hole of
shame that I want to crawl out
of but can't
or, wishing
for someone to pull me out but
don't actually believe anyone will give me a second glance - please -
but please don't -

caught between
help me
and
don't look at the mess I've made
the mess I am
a mess of a person who's
destined for
lunacy

Cries stuck in my throat
next to things
coated in
shame and years of steel-plated
heavy moments and

tears tears tears
I wanted to cry but couldn't
my face grew heavy with
tears not spilling out
can't lift
let me fall
pick me up
don't touch me

I don't trust you

run
I can't run

I write about pieces of the world I'm not a part of

glass - looking through
glass - broken shards on the ground
at my feet, in my knees
broken skin
bleed
broken heart
bleed my soul bleeds
I wish I could seep out of my skin
and be blood and

not think
sometimes I think these things

The sky is the only thing that can hold me
The ocean is the only thing that can hold me
The trees are the only things that can hold me

light is fleeting