The first of April;
The epitome of spring.
I see the life unfold around me,
I feel the dewy green below.

For a moment
There's a skip in the tape,
And I see scraggly branches
Break up the sky like cracks in the pavement;
White, twiggy claws
Scratch at the Celestial,
Begging for air.

I feel the oxygen seep out
Through my dry, wintry skin.
I become the branches,
Scratching for life.

The first of April.
A raindrop greets me at my nose.
My eyes turn up to the Celestial,
I see the life unfold around me,
I feel the dewy green below.

And oh, the leaves on the trees
And oh, the leaves on the trees
I feel myself breathe,
And oh, the leaves on the trees

I believe in keeping my eyes closed.
For when the pain is uncovered,
And starts to seep in
When the secrets are whispered
By paper and pen
When the nightmares arise
In monsters and men,
I can look at each wound
And close up the skin
I can lock up my safe,
Whisper "never again".

I wanted to show you kindness
Because nobody else did,
But you will always be
The case I couldn't solve,
The problem I couldn't fix.
In a lifetime from now
When the issues are just a list,
I won't think of the million ways
You couldn't love me.

I'll think of the million ways
You did.

Teach my nerve endings to breathe,
That it doesn't always have to be
Static shouts from one anxiety
To another.

Teach me to set my palm on my chest,
That the warmth that fills my body
Can be enough.

Teach me that it's okay to whisper,
That I shouldn't have to scream
To be noticed,
To be loved.

I hate that my pain
Is so easy for you to dig
Your hands into
I hate that I write poetry
To spread as much good
As hurt you've given me
I hate that you can preach
About forgiveness
When you know more
About my body
Than Christianity
I hate that my life
Will always be a reoccurring nightmare
I hate that I cannot silence you
Because you are still
The blood inside my mouth

Chesapeake Ocean waves thump
In my newly-beating chest.
Above the madness of my memories,
I think I can hear them swaying
To and fro,
Like my steady heartbeat.

Damp winds untangle the curls behind my ears.
My thoughts steady on September,
Where I picture brick walls,
Sitting nicely in a plaid dress,
My mousy blonde braid
The only consistent twist or turn.

I am the only one without a ticket
to the cinema.
I am a hologram;
A mirage
Thinning in and out of old reruns.
Which blank window panes
Share any foggy truth?

I'm sure leather messenger bags
And nice wool skirts have their place
Somewhere in the anatomy of the past,
But for now my wristwatch
Ticks and tocks
And waits for a time
When my skin is not the same shade
As the dates on my radio:

A new person passing anxiously through her old life.

I want to live inside your velvet dreams
I want to conquer you,
Unravel your seams
I want pillow fights and pillow talks
I want to open your eyes,
Provoke your thoughts