WHEN I WRITE ABOUT YOU
I WANT TO WRITE IN ALL CAPS
BECAUSE YOU ARE MOMENTOUS
AND EXCITING
AND WORTH SO MUCH MORE
THAN LOWERCASE LETTERS.

YOU ARE THE SUN BEAMING AT NOON
NOT LIGHTLY ON THE FACE
OF DAFFODILS AND CHERRY TREES
BUT SCREAMING THROUGH WINDOW BLINDS
OF TEENS TOO BEATEN DOWN
TO CLIMB OUT OF BED.

YOU ARE FUZZY CHRISTMAS SOCKS
AND HEAVY QUILT BLANKETS
NOT BECAUSE OF YOUR WARMTH AND SINCERITY
BUT BECAUSE OF THE WAY
YOU ENGULF EVERYTHING YOU TOUCH
AND MAKE THEM A PART OF
A SEA OF COMFORT AND REMEMBRANCE.

YOU ARE 3 AM EPIPHANIES
YOU ARE THE END OF A STORY MADE OF PROMISES AND BUMPY PLOT LINES
YOU ARE A BOUNCE CASTLE AT A KID'S BIRTHDAY PARTY.

YOU ARE CREAM CHEESE BROWNIES,
STARS SPRINKLED IN THE SKY,
THE FINGERTIPS OF A KINDERGARTNER IN THE WINTER
TOO STUBBORN TO WEAR GLOVES.
YOU ARE EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD
ANYONE COULD HAVE ASKED YOU TO BE
BUT YOU ARE MOST DEFINITELY NOT
LOWERCASE LETTERS.

There are 1,013,913 words in the English language, and not one of them describes how I feel about you, about us.

I used to say you were my strawberry jam, my little preserve that I would lay and spread on the table each morning, and I would lick my lips and say 'my God isn't she magnificent'.

I was your hero, your savior, your Christ that you had at Sundays Eucharist, and thank God you did. You dissolved in my mouth like that little piece of bread called a body but you tasted of everything instead of nothing, and **** me for thinking of you instead of God, thinking of you as my altar as I said 'hail Mary' and I worshiped you like a school girl with an orange full of candles in her hand, and for that God will **** me. He will **** me to hell but I don't care as the Universe lives under your tongue and everything I had ever dreamed of was right there in the right hand corner of your mouth.

You were my Wendy, darling. You stuck a thimble on my heart and said now you can never hurt me. But you did. We did. And the never of Neverland drifted away like a ship sinking into the sky, enveloped by darkness, smothered by a torrential rain of tears that washed away your fears that we were perfect, as there's no such thing as perfect when you can see your heart in the mirror with a target fixed to its center,

There are no words to describe how I feel about us. I still lift up my shirt and see your name inscribed on my chest, I still wake up and transcribe the words you wrote on my breast. I still touch myself up and think of you bribing me to undress. I still think about us.

If I could re-write my world to involve you in it I would. I would leave a piece of the jigsaw for you to carry around in your pocket so you knew you always fit in the world some where. I would make the sun rise each day through your window so you knew that life was worth living, that life was worth living when you were so what I am saying is I am forgiving. I am forgiving those days you swore at my reflection, and that day I slept on the sofa till three in the morning chain smoking till I was choking, remember? You said 'what are you doing' and I said I was in a smoke straight jacket and I was dying. You went back up to bed and I started crying. I am forgiving myself of those days I lay in bed just sighing. I am forgiving us for not trying.

But most of all, most of all, I am forgiving us for lying.

There are not enough words in the English language that can say I'm sorry like I am.

Or that I want you to move on. But I don't want you to move on.

Or that I want you happy. Because I want you happy.

I want you happy.

for the first time the ball is in my ******* court
in my ******* building
my ******* country
my ******* world.

unlike ryan
who held me like a delicate robin's egg
that had been emptied
(whatever way he held me
he managed to crush
something)
unlike him
you hold me like the baby bird that grew up in that shell
promising and astonishing
you marvel at me

and though i truly loved ryan
i don't love you.
because i could do anything
and you'd love me
i don't like that.
i could be the worst version of me
and stay that way
and you would still
stay

i don't
like that.

sometimes i forget
that you don't have time
for me anymore
and that maybe
i should just
give
up
but
then
then you come back
it's like a roller coaster
and i can't seem to get off
because the thrill is worth
the disappointment when the ride stops
and you have no idea
but i just can't seem to tell you
what am i so afraid of?
because anything would be better than this
i'd rather you completely reject me
than sit here
not knowing
i want to tell you
i really really do
but you have to understand that i just
can't
and it's only hurting me
as far as i know
i just wish...
i  just wish that  there were more time in a day

if i were a boy
to be honest
i would probably do all the things you boys do -
i would **** girls
and take names

being a girl
if i had the same ability you do
i would **** boys
and take names

but i am blessed by my shortcomings
my chubby face
my awkward side profile
my angular nose,
my gender.

I either like girls or
older men and I guess
that's not okay to some
people, hell, it's not even
okay to myself, but I can't help
that I like the way girls look with
their ******* off or the way men
look when they have a 5 o'clock
shadow.

I really like the way he wiped my tears
away and they way she always was the
little spoon and the way he held my shoulder
and the way she just knew when i was sad and the
way he just showed me how the shadows are in
different colours of light...

*******, i guess im bi, but
hell i could be wrong.

i don't regret
meeting anyone that i've met
anyone that i have loved
i will not forget
they have broadened my playlist
introduced me to all different styles
i have come to appreciate my playlist
that has been growing for a while
someone introduced me to indie
someone else what they played in the 60's
and Mr. current listens to classic
appreciative of music without lyrics
i've never known what to listen to
i grew up on rock and roll
so thank you to all those i've loved and will love
you have deeply affected my soul.

don't you think it's vile that your parents would rather turn you into an ugly person rather than tell you you're beautiful and embrace it
they're so afraid to lose you from others' claws that they keep you hidden from your natural charms
they strip it away and lock it in a safe and terrible place underground where the roaches roam and where the slugs go to die
but you are not naive and you are special
so you run away every night and use audiotapes to distract their ears from your faint footsteps down to the treasure chest
and you go down
        d
            o
               w
                   n
where all the refinement and grace is hidden
the irony strikes you and you are saddened at how those who bore you to this planet were so barbarous and frightened
true beauty does lie beneath a person's soul and even more so
it lies under the depths of your home where your parents live so afraid and tired of the world outside
and when you reach the very deep part of the dark soil and you can feel it warm around your skin--the glow of artistry flowing around the earth
you gasp and stare and sigh and daydream and cry
you could have been an angel but you're still stuck underground and you are still grotesque as ever
but none of that gets you down because you're here now and you're ready to take back what's yours
you are what you are and not twenty feet of dirt can remove that from you
so you run away again with the treasure in hand and you run to your old tree house where you become a changed one
the darkened trees light up
the sour mist in the air lifts up in a sweet summer haze
the leaves and bushes grow fuller and green
the sun comes out along with a handful of stars and you're startled at the beauty of it
but even more of the beauty you now possess--the beauty you always possessed
your parents run out of the delicate home that is now parched and blackened
they scream in agony and curse out the heavens but the gods don't listen to them and they shiver at your feet
you do not choose to forgive them but you choose to free them
you free them of their minds and guilty hearts
you free them of their mischief and lying tongues
they become full grown sunflowers under a heavy oak tree and they will remind you forever of their passionate yet depraved vision
for you were depraved but no more and you are powerful yet powerless under the murmurings of your heart
you are now what keeps the balance everywhere and at all costs
it's what they kept from you for so long but what they did not figure out long before was that
you
were
born
for
this
and you keep it close and embrace it

I was wearing that dumb sweatshirt
you bought me last Februray,
it smells like the Newports you smoke
and feels brand new,
even though I stuffed in my closet for a year

I played your favorite song on repeat
pretending you're here
laughing, smiling,
and kissing me on my neck to make me groan
like you do

It felt like ice cubes coming from my eyes
and I couldn't stop shaking
and I couldn't stop crying
and I kept praying
(even though I don't believe in God)
that you would wake up
in that stupid hospital bed