some winter mornings
last through the spring,
sweeping in between wind chimes
and dusting over windowsills,
until our bodies are numb
and our minds are racing
i don't feel pain in the winter time,
pain feels me,
all curled up in the fetal position
with fuzzy socks
and war paint
at the edge of my sheets
december never stings,
it burns.
a softer,
quieter,
gentler
kind of agony
that whispers tauntingly
through the shower curtains
at 5 am and says
"why did you bother getting out of bed?"
oh and how that cold, cutting voice
gets stuck inside your head...
at least until spring takes
it's last cool breath

I'm not ashamed to say
that today,
my ***** look impeccable.
They do—
and that makes me beam
in every possible way.
See,
we're rounding a long winter,
and it's cloudy outside.
I'm smart enough to know
that most days—
you have to make
your own god ****** sunshine.

I wanted to love every space
and every missing piece -
I wanted to see.

From the moment your
warm hands held mine
I felt safe, and I knew
this would be more.

I needed to know every
wonderful secret
every dark thought,
I wanted to know you.

To stick my fingers in
the little gaps of your
soul, I wanted to feel
everything you felt.

I wanted you to feel whole.

I desire to know every
dark nightmare,
the smell of blood
still thick in your mind.

Every dream and
every regret
I wanted to feel it all.

But-
I hesitate.

I need you to know
the love I've felt
and hidden,
for your sake.

I wanted to gently mend
every flaw you saw
in yourself, I wanted
to make life beautiful.

To let you in?
I wanted to try. I wanted to feel.

I wanted to be there to share
when the demons come breathing
down your neck and every sick
thought stalks your head.

I wanted you there when the
tears wouldn't stop
or couldn't start and
I wanted to catch all of yours.

But you feel I've done wrong.
Pain that ripped through my core
and begged me to scream out
every truth I've concealed-
terrified because my love is so deep
yet I never bothered to reveal.

I wanted to tell you
but the words are so heavy and
emotions so real.
Someday I'll tell you.

War in my mind as real
as the war you have seen.
Silence leaves me wondering
if you would fight for me.

I would fight.
I will fight.
I will fight for your love
until I can't fight any more.

I fell in love with you
that was my first mistake.

Empathy that shook my core
I wanted to feel all you felt.
I wanted you to feel what I felt.
(Because I knew you felt it, too.)

I wanted to give myself
until there was nothing left.
I wanted you to love me.

Fifteen years since I was safe.
Six years since I had a peace of mind.
One year, six months since our first kiss.
One year since our last.
Ten months since I last felt your touch.
Eight months since we had a conversation.
Seven months, five days since were were together.
Two months since it rained.
Two weeks since I last cried.

Three seconds since I last thought of you.

*My memory is my greatest enemy.

the first law of thermodynamics speaks: energy cannot be created nor destroyed
hypothetically, there must be some type of energy created between two people
though this winter has lasted a few years, natural vagabonds are asunder, seeking warmth
for years, we were condemned to search for that other half of us to keep us alive
we want someone who will grab our shoulders at the edge of a steep cliff
we want someone who will appreciate the small things, like drinking tea together
if our atoms bisect and travel alone someday, i want to know i felt that fear of love
that loss is the kindest of suicides, it empties the entrails which scatters through the walls
and the ribcage grows a garden of dead plants and a unlimited drought occurs
god knows when the clock will stop ticking in my chest and my soul goes west

-kra

This isn't Paris, there are no lights here
But the stars that sit vulnerably above the dark streets at night.
Reflecting on the drops of rain that fall with no order filling the potholes and cooling the air.
Even the desert gets cold in December, and the cold makes everyone feel lonely.
So here's to the bowl of glitter on my desk.
The letters written that will never be sent.
The twin sized bed unkempt and cold by the window
And the lights that stopped working weeks ago.
To scarves that warm necks and hats that warm heads
While there's nothing to keep my heart from nervously pounding every time the dog barks at night.
Here's to coffee tasting and wrestling over the last brownie,
Friends that become lovers and lovers that stay friends.
The lamplight is dim but it's there all the same
And as long as my shivering hands can type I'll be writing these letters I'll never send.