The world wanes like the moon;
I'm at the line between now and then
And all I can think of is you.

Your facets, flaws, fine features
Are only parts of a whole.
Your hands wouldn't make me shake
If they didn't have your intent.
Your eyes wouldn't liquidize me
If they didn't show me what you want.

I think there's a reason you rhyme with heaven.
I think there's a reason we have each other.

Potential is kinder than perfection
Because it allows you somewhere to go.
Thank you for that.

The world was waning, and I wanted you here.
I still do.

What do you think of at night?

The breath of the wind through these trees-
These beautiful, strange trees
Seeming unstable, but older than either of us-
Is inspiring, yes.
But not as much as your breath in my ear.

I could write sonnets to this cave, this grotto
Overflowing with purity and so empty,
So full of possibility
But I prefer the tangled depths of your eyes.
They're full of vines, you know.
They're full of a different possibility.

Mountains and valleys create the geography of this place
And a beautiful scene it is.
Eons have been hard at work here
But it is external, and therefore less.

You are quite the archaeologist.

I woke up, heart racing
And you were there.
But it was too far away to be you
So I just got more scared.

The trees turned to guns
My ear turned to blood.
They must've shot me;
Maybe I mistook shots for heartbeats.
I do that sometimes.

The bullets must've been the birds.
They can be cruel, you know
And what else could a tree shoot?
Pinecones are made for glitter
Not gunplay.

You weren't you
Because you were too far
But you were so close.

Nature usually negates my nightmares.
Guns are made of metal and fire
Not wood and birds.
You are always you
Even when I'm not exactly me.

It's amazing how a beer bottle can drown out everything else
And all you can understand is that you're pressing it too hard
And your lips are too soft to hold it.

The moon's on the wrong side of the sky tonight.
It's too big for me
Too blue.
Politics are too big for me too
So I'm glad you can hold the conversation.

I don't want to hear anymore
But my bottle's been recycled
And the only other thing that drowns it all out is your lips
And they're occupied.

I'm kind of glad they are
Because otherwise I'd voluntarily become deaf
And that can't be healthy.

The moon's on the wrong side tonight
So I'm glad you're with me.

You reversed my polarity
But apparently some magnets are attracted to the same,
Not the opposite
For we must both be positive.

My ions are re-tuned, altered to allow for you.
And when you combine science and music
The formula gets confusing
But I'm pretty sure that's ok with me.

If you don't know what I mean, that's ok too.
I'm not sure I do either.
But my molecules are drawn to yours
On some base level
And I hear string instruments when I'm with you.

You are empirical proof for all I thought were dreams.
You turn theories into laws
And you turn me into someone whose smile is permanent
And not from botox.

You are all the science I need.

I don't remember to wash off my green beans before I eat them.

I'm not patient
And I think complaining is pathetic,
But I still end up doing it.

I'm not considerate
And I have trouble empathizing
And I'm always desperate for attention
A sure sign of a weakness.

It's not necessary to tell me my faults.
I'm well acquainted with them.
Probably moreso than anyone else.

I read because it distracts me from how empty my life is
And I like when people don't know my music.
It makes me feel superior.

There are thousands more.
Some very silly, like how I never really finish my own beer
And some important, like how I play the martyr way too often.
But just trust me.
I know them plenty.

Let me survive.

i
don't
know
what to do.

i don't know
what you want me to do.

i just want some kind of sign.

You had a black cat and a tiger cub
Equal in size, equal in ferocity.
All silk fur and knife teeth- you said they were just playing
But they bit and scratched only me.
Scars incurred were real.

You experimented, scientifically, with my childhood belongings
In the back of our broken down truck.
You didn't know they were mine.

We played chess, us and another
Someone unimportant enough to forget, I suppose
Since I already have.
There was a scandalous edge to it.
Something dark, dangerous. Exciting.
You made me a promise when you took my queen.
I couldn't quite understand what it was.

Later you played basketball, alone in the dark
You car headlights providing the only stars.
I followed you
Found you playing horse, a sad game alone.

There was electricity in the air
Waiting to shock someone.
Waiting to shock us.
You were about to say something magnificent....

If only I could return.
If only I could hear you say it.
If only I could escape the felines for good.

No sweet sleep, let me linger a little longer!
You are the gas station I need to loiter in
For in you, I'm with him.
Let me stay, let me see his face, let me feel his eyes
False as they may be.
You are my sweet savior; why do you choose to torture me so?
Torture me with dreams of love and desire
Dreams of magnetic attraction and tiger-sharp want.
But what delicious torture it is.

If it is Chinese water torture, the water is the nectar of strawberries
And it drips down to my lips,
Allowing a desperate and fevered taste
But gone so quickly.

Sleep, why did you leave me so?
He was about to fulfill me
About to say he loved me
About to break that tension that was filling my fictional home so  
completely.
About to be a dream I could dream again.

Don't do this to me, sandman.
Let me return to that dream,
If only for long enough to get one
Sweet strawberry drop.
Long enough to hear him say it
To hear him show it:
He cares for me.

Sweat creates a sheath on my forehead
Created from internal struggle, not outward heat.
It seems my insides are causing me the most pain lately.

I can feel the destruction
Practically hear my woman-ness being torn down.
Feel walls and tubes and eggs, all dying.
A tornado laying waste to what makes me me.

Pain that radiates throughout-
It hits my legs after it moves, draining them of power
Feet, too.
Then upwards, to my biceps
And finally my mind.

Pain different than any other
Unique and terrible
A thin to both study and abhor.

Make it go away.

Don't get used to me, please.
That's how it starts.

Remember when we met?
See me as you saw me then.
There must've been something to make you want me.
Remember it, please.
Keep it new.

I'm doing my best to be new
To still be exciting
To still make you interested.
I don't know my success rate.
I think it's low.

I've been through it before.
Once you get used to me,
You start forgetting.
You forget why you wanted me.
You forget any reasons to keep me around.
Reasons to still try.
So, you stop.

So, we stop.

So remember me, please.
Was it my words? my face? my tiger shirt?
Whatever it is, don't forget.
I'll drink more to get back to those words.
I'll put on more makeup to bring back your favors.
I'll wear that shirt all you like.

But please, I'm asking you.
Don't forget me.
Don't get used to me.

Show me something new.
Or not even new, really.
Just show me something wonderful.
I promise I'm still interested.

Show me how your face looks
When you're thinking.
I can't handle that other face anymore.
You know the one.
You've been showing it a lot.

Show me what music looks like to you
And what meaning words have for you.
Show me your sun and your moon.
Show me something I haven't seen in a while.

If you don't want to, give me a chance.
I'll try to show you how music swirls in my head
And how words are made of both stone and water.
I'll show you that some days, you're my sun.
And other days my sun is explosive.
I'll tell you how the moon sings to me some nights
And other nights just lets me talk.

I'm not done talking to you.
I'm not done hearing.

I worry you feel the opposite.

We're both here
But we're not together.
I'm just waiting
For you to see me again.

Please
See me soon.

I haven't written in days.
I need to get my rhythm back
My meter, my stanzas, my rhymes
If I so choose to use them.

I don't want to sound like someone else
But I don't remember my voice.
I'm like Ariel in the Little Mermaid
Giving up my voice on a whim.
She didn't mind the choice
But I am neither mermaid nor songstress.

You're distracted me to the point of...
I don't know, exactly.
But I can't won't don't recall my words.

I need to feel again
Because it's been a week without a soul.

Night breezes cool hot cheeks,
But breezes can only be fleeting.
My skin can't cool for long
Because my temper's so hot.

Every car that passes,
I wonder if it's you.
It never is.
And I know better than to really hope.

You should know to find me here.
If you would think, you would know.
I guess it's just your
Selective memory acting up again.

You say you don't want to leave us like this
But you didn't seem to mind making us this way.
Maybe you should pick a direction you want us to go.

I can't keep doing this.

The word that reminds me of you most is delightful
Which is weird, I guess.

That's not the word I'd choose to describe you with.
Those words mostly start with I.
Interesting. Intense. Intellectual.

But it reminds me of you.
It's what you said when you met me.
The combination of your diction
And your reference to gods of old
Made me interested.
Made me want to know you.

It's what you said about a shirt, once.
Before we technically started.
Delightfully low cut, remember?
It made me think you might be interested in a certain side of me too.
That was after I realized how very intense
Those shivers you gave me were.

And you said I would say delightful things while drunk
And then we had that hour long conversation
About male prostitution in "Gone With the Wind".
The most intellectual dialogue yet, for drinking.

And I guess the beginnings are always what we remember best.
So, delightful is what I remember.

Open, but empty.
Waiting, but without expectation.
Come get me.
Come find me.

Cone take me away
From what I am.

My hands aren't big enough to be a substitute for yours.
Wrong size, wrong texture, wrong angle.

I need you, warm on my ****.
I need your fingers swirling in me.
I need you talking to me
And looking at me with that predatory stare.

I need you now.

I was thinking about you today.

Not because I missed you.
I don't think I've missed you once.

But it's almost time for school again
And you never got started unless I started it.
Or not willing, I guess.

I was remembering how proud I was of you, once.
Of who you were going to be.
Remember?
I hope you'll become someone you're proud of.

And I wanted to say I'm sorry I moved on so fast.
And I'm sorry I'm so much happier without you.
And I'm sorry I hurt you.
But I can't say any of that
Because it wouldn't be a good idea to talk to you.
And I don't really want to, either.
We never had much to say to each other.

But I hope you're okay
And I hope you're happier without me
And I hope you can find someone
Who can be the one you love to need.

There hasn't been a night since I met you
That you haven't starred in my dreams.

Sometimes protector
Sometimes lover
Sometimes victim
Sometimes villain
But always you.

I guess I can't get enough of you when waking
So my subconscious picks up the slack.

You have invaded every inch of my being
But sometimes invasions are positive.

Racing through backroads
You watch as stars appear as if from nowhere.
Freshly born, newly created
Made only for you and him to know.

You don't know where you're going
But you'll go anywhere with him
So you aren't worried.
Anywhere he goes immediately becomes a good place.

He drives far too fast through unknown townships
If you can ever call them that.
But it's still dark enough there that you just
Stare out the window; you put your arm out to feel the night.

You stop in a dirt road
Abandoned, for all intensive purposes.
Lay on the hood and watch the stars
As if it's a PG-13 romantic comedy.

He gives you the stars
And you have nothing to give in return
So you just try to take in the universe.
You just want to reach out and touch it.

And as you leave you watch the stars disappear
Fading back into the city lights.
You wonder if the universe holds a funeral for a dying star
You wonder if this has all been orchestrated by the cosmos.

You and him
And the frogs and the crickets
Provide the only heartbeats for miles.
And when supply is low, demand is high
So your pulse increases
And you can feel your heart pump faster
But you're not really sure if it's your blood
Or him.

Gradually you stop hearing the crickets and the frogs
And the two of you are all there is.
And you know you're safe
Because you're away from the ring of fire.
Not the kind Johnny Cash sang about
More the kind Giuliani would talk about.
The ring of city lights that is so far away from you
So you know you're safe.

You can see the freckle-stars
And the half-moon
And the silhouette of his face.
You can see everything you need to.

Whispered litanies of love
Bliss. Perfection. Pure happiness.
You wish you could be so happy all the time
But all good things come to an end.
(Does that really have to be true?)

I shrunk down
To be an equal of one of those little green army men.
Not one of the weaponized ones.
That one with the Walkie-Talkie
Everyone made fun of for being useless.

I stole his walkie-talkie, actually.
I was scaling your mountain
So I needed some sort of communication.

From the sheets, I rose.
Carefully, clumsily climbed up you
Mount Olympus for mortals.

I almost fell
I almost dropped my radio
I almost got lost in you.
But I prevailed.

And when I reached the top
I said "I claim this"
But I couldn't really claim it
Because I didn't have a flag
And how do you claim something without a flag?

And in a way I don't think I should be able to claim you
Because claim is a word for lesser mountains.
You cannot claim what wasn't created by you
Or name it.

But I was two inches tall
With a tiny green radio
That just kept squawking
"Are you there, C? It's me, Ego!"
So I tried my best.

You held my hand
And looked me in the eyes
And told me I was beautiful.
That you wanted me.
That you needed me.

And you proved it.

It was the first time I really believed it, I think.
It was the first time I took it to heart.
I still can't get over how you make me feel
And I don't really want to.

You make me alive.
You make me feel like I matter.
You make me feel like I'm loved.

You say I make you feel like a man.
Well, you make me feel like a woman.
Young and beautiful
A creation of the gods.

When you touch me
The tremors of earthquakes crash through my veins.
I am a world
Created for you, only you, always you.
Born of the clouds and the tides
I am worthy of being studied and sought after
You show me I am worthy.
You show me I am good.

When I look in your eyes
You are surrounded by stars.
And if you're made of light,
I must be too
For we could not be so far apart.

While I may make you feel like a man
You make me feel liike a woman.
We were created of the heavens.
We were created for each other.

It's true that when the moon glows brightest
Incidents of ****** rise.
But when you can't see the stars out here
You have to take some risks.

Modern-day Rippers can catch me if they like.
I'll be too distracted by the bright hole in the sky.
You know when you look through a paper towel roll
And it's all black
And there's just that bright circle of escaping light at the end?
Maybe the moon is our escape.

Like I said, I'd lie down and stare at the stars
But the lights here make that difficult
And who knows when the sprinklers will go off.

Instead I'll pretend I'm an astronaut
The Argonauts and I, haha.
We'll find out what's beyond our paper towel tube existence
Via slingshots and arrows.

A lunar eclipse is a beautiful thing
Except that it covers the escape portal.
We must ask the gods:
How will we get out
When you put your hands over it?
How will we seek greater things?

There are no stars here.
No pinpricks have penetrated this world
Pins pricked so the gods can have a peepshow
And don't all have to share the window.

Maybe the ****** rates go up
To entertain them.

I'm not sleeping tonight.

I know if I tried, I'd fail
So instead I'm thinking of you.
Cataloging you in my mind.

Simple things: favorite colors and foods
Deeper things: experiences and viewpoints
Deep things: do you notice when the moon glows?

I've got most of the first section down, I think.
The second will need time to fill.
The third keeps changing.

The third is most important to me, you see.
What color do you think music is?
When you see the sun
Do you think of power
And creation and destruction
Or do you think of skin cancer?
When you eat
Can you feel your taste buds celebrating?

Basically, do you notice important things?
Do you see what some people don't care about?
Because I care.
And your catalog can't be finished
Until I know.

Sweaty, sticky skin.
Hair too long; touching my back
Heating me further.
Dying of the after-waves of fire
Not the flames themselves.

Need less fabric on my body.
Need less hair on my head.
Need less skin, less muscle, less blood.

I need a cold shower
But for external heat
Not internal.

I was beautiful because
You told me I was.
You were beautiful because
There can be none like you.

I'm working on remembering you.
(not that it's possible to forget)
But I want your details
So I'm working on remembering you.

I think I have your chin down
But your nose is not perfected.
Your eyes are almost there
And your hands are probably halfway.

I was beautiful because
You made me believe I was.
But you were beautiful because
There can be none like you.

I want to know you.
Your no banana pancakes
And your Dr. Pepper
And your gas station champagne.

Our atoms are getting familiar with each other.
At least, that would explain
Why my skin, no, my whole being
Both tenses and melts when you're near.

Your fingernails know my back
My hands know your chest.
They're close friends, you know.
I'm sure you've noticed.

I am beautiful because
That's what you bring out.
You are beautiful because
There can be none like you.

Recreated
In the image of who I want to be.
Reborn
From a newly discovered stage of development.

I am renewed and reevaluated.
Now vibrant and breathless
Open and waiting
For you, always for you.

For me, too.
But in a different way.
Finally, facing my id.
Finally, flying.

Do I hope to get anything from this?
Besides a catharsis
Besides an outlet for my words.

Am I expecting something?

Maybe I secretly hope that someone will like it
And maybe show other people
And maybe I could have an effect one someone.

But surely I know that's improbable.

I guess I should not think about it
And just let my writing take care of me
And I will take care of her
And we will float on like the castaways we are.

Let me live in the palms of your hands;
They can be my palm trees, indeed,
And your arms my desert island.
I will survive on the salt water
And coconut meat
That I'll search throughout your body for.
I'll spend my days exploring, learning
All the mountains and caverns you hold.
I will be the first native
And you will be my first home.

Your hands are torches
And you're writing sonnets on my skin with fire.
Instead of welding me and you together
You open my flesh
And burn my essence.
Your lips create the wind that blows the flames
Heating more by the minute.
And as you speak, I burn.
When you press the bellows to me
It only fuels my furnace.
This is the fire only you can start
And I'm aching for you to put out.

(Firehose, please.)

I want to sit out at three a.m. again.

Tension instead of air
Stars instead of sky
Music instead of thoughts

Your hands on my body
Questioning

"How much do you want to live?"

I haven't been writing much lately.

My vault is being emptied into you
Instead of into poems,
I think.

Maybe I'm running low
And need to go to the bank to get some change.

Maybe I need to
Diversify my portfolio, so to speak.

Maybe
I need to go to the casino
And take a gamble to see if I can refill it.
But I've never been good at any game but slots
So you'd have to come help me.
We can count cards all night
And stuff my safe with the anticipation
And risk of getting caught.

Maybe I just need an accountant.
Maybe I need a loan.
Maybe I need you to be my loan-shark.

Gray matter unfolds
To expose a world hence unseen.
What you thought was soft muscle
Is actually a community of golden pathways,
Carved from the hollow horns
Of unicorns, slayers of virgins.

Like a deconstructed accordion,
It flattens
And reveals a soul, a heart
Floating through space on the back of his fingers.

The deepest annals of the universe
Are uncovered for your eyes only
And for those few blessed moments
There is only greatness.

You don't have his eyes memorized.
You know they're green, sometimes
But they're elusive when you try to draw them with your fingers.
You aren't confidantes with every last cell in his hands
Or know the moons of his fingernails.
And you can't taste his lips when he's not there.

You don't know him yet, and that's fine.
But you need to remember that.
I think if you had his minutiae immortalized in your mind
And you could already sculpt his eyes out of air
You would be in far too deep
Far too soon.

How big can a star be?

Big enough
To cloud your judgement
(Or maybe just rethink your life?)
And free your mind.

Bright enough
To blind you to the world around you
And force you to focus.
Focus!

Hot enough
To burn your cells
And leave enough scar tissue to make sure
You never forget.

Blue enough
To make blue your new favorite color
When you hated it before.

Powerful enough
To make you really look at the sky again
And see the night as magical.

He says he loves you.
Not that he will love you forever
And not that he wants to pledge his undying fervor.
But in this moment
He loves who you are.

And that's really all you can handle now, probably.
Because you know how boys like to say
I love you
In the flame of infatuation.
And you know how people can lie
Malicious intent or not
Because you did it for months.
And you know how that song goes
"Boys like you love me forever"
And it always makes you uncomfortable
Because forever is a long time to promise
But some boys don't seem to move on very well.

So you are unsure about forever
And about promises
And about love.
But he says that it just means that
He loves you as a person.
He loves you right now.
He is in love with this point in time.
And you're so **** happy
Because that's exactly what you feel
Because you are in love with this point in time
And you love him as a person
And you love him right now
And no one else has ever been able to understand that distinction.

You can't get that stupid grin off your face
And you fall asleep in his arms
Subconscious armed with idle speculation
About fictional futures
And possible presents.
You just hope he's grinning too.

I've been listening to static for years.
Watching the black-and-white zigzags
Crumple across my screen
Defeated, without knowing the enemy.
Overwhelmed, without taking perspective.

Suddenly pictures are coming through
Sounds that don't just seem to be dying aluminum.
Laughs   smiles   conversations
Touches...
Gasps.
Heartbeats.

Those black and white zigzags are fading
Blurring out until you see the picture
They've been trying to form for too long.
And behold, the picture is clear.
Maybe the repairman upgraded me to hi-def.

But that repairman sure is sneaky.
Apparently the channel is now set on Cinemax
And I have no idea where my remote is.

You make my heart burn
But in the **** way, not the kind you get Tums for.
And I think about you a lot
And I think about why I think about you so much a lot too.
And I wonder what your favorite food is
Because someday I won't be a broke college kid and maybe
I could figure out to make an easy version of it for you.
You make my insides coil up like a Slinky when you look at me
Which is new for me and I think it's just because I like you a lot
But I like your effect on me a lot too.
I look at you too much and I hope you don't think it's weird
Because I just think that you're kind of fascinating
And I write about you too much and I hope you don't think I'm obsessive
Because I'm not.
You just hang out in my brain a lot.


Anyway
Write me back.

I dreamed you left me at Christmas.
Under snow and trees, you walked away.
You just didn't want me anymore.

I know it's false.
You've given me no reason to doubt
(Though I shouldn't be thinking that far ahead anyway.)
You have only been perfect.

I guess my subconscious is just still waiting.
(I wish my dreams didn't have a habit of becoming real.)

I am woman
Hear me moan.
See me arch
Feel me groan.

I am woman
And I will prove to thee
That I am all
I need to be.

I am woman
And I am strong.
I am mighty
I belong.

I am woman
These ******* are mine.
This *** is hot
And these hips are fine.

Superman boxers
Big little mister pops out.
A friendly greeting.

The feminist in me rages
But the female in me is melting.
I know you can tell
Especially since it's all over your fingers.
Never stop talking.
Never stop touching.

I.
Want.
You.

He asks you
To lie down, naked on his bed
And when you try to cover yourself
To hide what you perceive as flaws
He prevents it.
He holds your hands
And looks in your eyes
And tells you
Exactly
What he's going to do.

He starts at your feet
(So he can end with your mind)
And travels up your flesh.
At each point, he kisses
And looks in your eyes
And tells you
Exactly
Why it's perfect.

At your most insecure
Your stomach, your hips, your *******
He takes the most time.
Your stomach is perfect; soft and warm.
Your hips are beautiful; he loves to watch them sway.
Your ******* are the most sensuous creation; he could live between your mounds.

He continues up your body
Tenderly tracing your curves with his mouth
With his fingers
With his eyes.
Trying to preserve your frame in his mind
To recreate when you leave
Because he never wants you to go.
And if all he can have is the memory of your body
He will remember it in perfection.

But he does not neglect your eyes, your heart, your mind.
Once he reaches them
He tells you that your eyes are the most beautiful stars
He has ever seen
And he would travel to Jupiter if it meant he could find their equal
But he knows he could never find better.
He says your heart holds the most rare liquid in the world
The blood of a goddess
For what goddess before you has been human?
He says your mind is the most confoundedly beautiful maze
He has ever traveled.
And he doesn't really want to ever solve it
Because the path is so wonderful.

As he finishes memorizing every last part of you
And every last part of your soul
He looks in your eyes
And tells you
Exactly
How much he loves you.

Who are you
To undermine my reality?
I am interested in neither your validation
Nor your condemnation.
I am the beginning and the end of my world
As if I were not I, there would be no me
And if there were no me, I would not be aware
Of any existence.

I have the power to believe as I believe
And create and destroy myself as I choose.
I am Shiva and Vishnu and Brahma
I am the Alpha and Omega.

If I did not exist, the world would go on without me.
No lives would be lost had I not been born
And the Earth won't feel another soul escaping when I die.
I am one of billions,
Irrelevant and insignificant, in truth.
But if I did not exist
I would not be aware of you
Or your various philosophies
Or anything else in the universe.

Therefore, if I was chimerical
Unreal
A sham
You would be the same, for all intensive purposes.
And I am who I choose to be.

I am my own creator and destroyer of my world.

All right.
Your pictures are officially deleted
From my camera and my Facebook.
The prints are out of their frames
Your ticket stubs are out of my box
(Until I can look at them with fond memories
Instead of sadness.)
And the sweet things you've given me are in a drawer.

All of you, hidden away.
Just like who you are was hidden away.
I'm still not sure if I ever really knew you.

I'm just glad I'm finally feeling it.
I've not had one sorrow, one lament
But you can't live without that, I guess.
So, now's the time.

Here's to the past.