As we know it, and I feel fine"
Because I have you in the
Front seat next to me,
And the moon is the size of
A ferris wheel when it's
Not covered by clouds,
And we're both not looking
At each other but there's
An unspoken way I know you care.

Memories hurt like
pressing a bruise.
They ache
and you want to tear
it out and away but
it's stuck to your flesh.

Memories are like
cigarette smoke,
you lay awake craving
them but when you give
in it stings and you can't
quite breathe anymore.

Memories are like black
coffee half burnt in
the ***.
Bitter and scalding,
painful to taste and
swallow.

Memories choke you
out with the force
of your own sobs,
gasping for air and
begging for mercy.

Memories are
living and potent,
reminders of our
humanity and our pain.

there are dozens of them,
thin, white lines
running
up, down, and sideways
across my legs.

they cross my thighs,
stretch to my hips.
they form bumps,
and small valleys.

scar tissue is not pretty,
no matter what you call it.

i would like to
see my childhood self again,
careless and free.

i want
my childhood
back.

i am
cold toes and ripped jeans,
scalding tea and fake smiles,
too dangerous to love.

i am
worse than you think,
faded scars on hips and wrists,
ragged combat boots held together by duct tape.

i am
coffee breath in the morning,
chattering teeth in the afternoon,
a headache in the evening.

i am
in love with being in love,
too afraid to live properly,
draped in the color black.

i am
more than I can handle,
shining brighter than I thought,
waiting for the world to end.

i am
twisted, broken, and desperate,
shattered glass on a tile floor,
blood stains on old sheets.

i am
an art form gone awry,
burnt and discarded matches,
broken hearted and hopeful.


i am
glassy and bloodshot eyes,
shaking hands,
***** coffee mugs sitting in the sink.

i am
a skipping CD,
a restless night’s sleep,
shadows under eyes that look more like bruises.

i am
wholly and entirely me,
wrapped in flannel and denim and crystals,
something no one else can replicate.