I remember that day
A kid rumored
That my sister
Had been put in jail
The truth was
My sister put a man in prison
For being a little too friendly with us
For cupping his hands
For attempting to grab ours

I remember that day
When I helped my dad
With the concession stands of his play
An old man
Said he used to work for Disney
Said I could be a star
Said I could train with him on an island
I remember his dehydrated hands
Stumbling around his phone
He took my picture
He found my email
Only to find it was my parents
It was the only pair of hands
They knew about

I remember that day
When I was at a fair
Fascinated by wooden bird houses
A nice man offered to show me his favorite
The one he crafted by hand
The hands of a carpenter
But it was in his car,
Leading me away with him
My sister ran after me,
Forcing me into finger painting
Forcing me into safety

I remember that day
A man came up to me in the bank
He whispered to me
My accomplishments,
My friends,
My family,
And showed me a picture
His hands shaking with glee
I looked at him in horror
As his hands looked at me in ecstasy

I remember that day
When my sister came home from college
With a friend
She left me at a bonfire with him
He left me drinks
When I fell asleep
He woke me with his hands
I pushed away
His hands clamped closer
Muffling my cries with his fingers
His hands were too drunk to remember

I remember  

I remember his hands
They retracted at an unsure glance
They reached with hesitation
They found the empty spaces
Between my fingers
Between my soul
They only grappled my sides
In order to hear a laugh
They only cupped my face,
In order to wipe away the pain
They only held me close
In order to be together

He only took pictures of us smiling
Hand in hand.

I wanted to paint
A water color picture of us
I wanted to capture
The curves of your lips
And the swirls of colors
As they melted with mine
And I wanted to illustrate
The marks from your fingertips
Tracing constellations across my hips
And I thought I could draw
The way to relinquished
Emptiness trapped inside of me

But I was painting a picture
with colors that didn't exist

I am loud,
Demanding attention.
I know when I am being charming
Because I try.
I put on my impressing face
And do my impressing hair
And speak my impressing words.
I tell you my embarrassing drinking stories
And everything else about me
That you probably shouldn’t know.

I am not good at being quiet
Because that’s not who I am.
I am not the sweet girl
Who will leave you with a smile
And a touch
And a glance
Or a single word.
There is nothing of this fashion of romance
About me.

I am the girl who will point out your flaws,
And take you outside to see the stars,
And remind you how human you are,
And what a wonderful thing that is.

I am the girl who will talk about science,
And music and theology and history,
And point out constellations, laughing,
When you don’t know the big dipper’s name.

I am the girl who will make witty references,
To classic literature and science fiction,
And will tell you stories of how I once,
Made a gingerbread replica of a lighthouse.

I am the girl who will stand on a table,
And sing at the top of my lungs on the highway,
And act like a chicken or quail or velociraptor,
Or nuzzle your face like a lion to make a point.

I am the girl who takes too many shots
And then coaxes you to bed on a Russian liver,
And knows all the right places to bite, and tease,
And follows with exceptionally coherent pillow-talk.

I am not a thin silk scarf on the wind.
I am not a thing hard to capture.
You would not spend a perilous journey
Through a wild, perfumed jungle,
Searching for my slender garments
Hung beside a pool
As I wail to the breeze.

Rather, I am the bird who flies overhead
Making too much noise
Distracting from the trail ahead.
A bird whose plumage proves
What an interesting life it must be…
What a colorful life for me…
Perpetually strange
The lone comic relief.

I am many things.
But I am not quiet.
Of this I am sure.

Lately, I've noticed how light lingers,
Like sound caught in empty space,
Above the dim horizon long after the sun has set.
And as it dances in the wind with dark clouds that hang
Like morbid thoughts above the Earth,
I can't help but yearn to see my sun again
If only for an instant.

I fear the truth-
That when these last traces of her have faded from the sky
I will be resigned to wander and weather
This, my final winter, without her in the dark.
And should I look up and see the stars,
I may admire their beauty, but I will know it not real.
For they are only shadows of her,
Whose light only reminds me of the love I've lost,
And they could never be enough to illume my life.

So as I sit alone at dusk
And watch the world fade into night,
I wish that I could see my sun,
I wish that I could make things right.

If life is a highway
    then I'm afraid
the only people I've met are hitchhikers
   waiting on the side of the road
       for a ride
           to anywhere really
I stop
    because I could use the company
and also
        I'll get to use the carpool lane
Some passengers come and go
    without much effort on either part
the only thing they leave behind is a slight stench
But then
            there are the few
    who insist on driving
and take roads
    to places
            I never thought to imagine
they set up permanent residence
   and I am
helpless
in the passenger seat
        but as it happens
            with hitchhikers
they merely want a ride
to that better place they're going
    and I
        am just
the transportation.

I like you.

I like the gold in your eyes,
The solidity behind your stare,
Soft, but knowing,
I like every strand of hair.

I like that you speak to me,
I like your sentences, phrases and words,
I like how you string them together so delicately,
Like a melody waiting to be heard.

I like our small talk,
Even if it’s cheap,
I like our conversations in class,
And how I think of you as I begin to sleep.

I love your voice,
How you say my name like a dream,
I love all of your truths,
And every smile in between.

So take all of my likes,
Put them in the palm of your hands,
Let’s spread them out-
Let us make a plan:

I can’t promise you much,
But I can promise you this,
I won’t try to steal away a heart,
But I might steal a kiss.

I walk the world with thoughts of you
In every place I go
Your voice is on the winter wind
Your footprints in the snow
And every tool I try to use to scrape you from my mind
Cuts your name onto my tongue
And beats me till I'm blind
I layed my head upon your knees and breathed the air you breathed
I cut myself when you were cut to know just how you bleed
Now as I walk this empty earth with nothing but a face
To breathe me and to bleed me
Until I leave this place