He didn't like the flowers
that sprouted beneath my collarbone.

He hated the red oak
and the fruit that I'd grown.

So I plucked every petal,
brought sheers to my throat
No longer my haven,
I was a garden of smoke.

Now he holds my wilted pieces
with a face of disgust
and decides an empty garden
is just too much fuss.

I've never known the loving of a man but
it sure felt nice when he was holding my hand.

The sky was beautiful.
6:21 pm as the the sun started dipping below the horizon and the blue gave way to a bright pink and then a brilliant magenta, so overwhelmingly stunning that it could leave you breathless.
He sat beside her, their sides comfortable against each other, like when the sky meets the sea. Her hair was the colour of a raven as she threw her head back laughing, almost like a child. They talked about how everything looked so beautiful in that light at that moment and how they never wanted to leave.

The sky was beautiful.
12:45 am as they lie on the floor of her bedroom, dim lights, bright eyes, sweaty palms and all.
The stars came out, peaking in through the window, watching their hands make imaginary circles. They watched the moon, making plans of going there and building a house, an impossible dream they talked about in all seriousness.

The sky was beautiful.
2:56 am as it turned to black and everything was still and the only sounds were sirens and dogs singing to the night. His head was in her lap as they sat in silence, just appreciating their togetherness. She talked about her insecurities and he listened, pressing her hand occasionally as a show of comfort. He talked about his father as she watched his smile vanish and his eyes stare off into the distance and ruffled his hair, kissing his forehead, as if to make him forget the horrible things his father had done.

The sky was beautiful.
6:23 am as the sun rose once again, tireless and bright, through the morning mist as the sky shifted from orange to blue. His eyes fluttered open as he took in the moment of tranquility.  He woke to find her asleep in his arms, their bodies a tangled mess of limbs. Her face was serene, calm, and makes him feel like he would never love anything as much as he does her.

The sky is beautiful.
*And so is she.

"People treat you like damaged goods
or ticking time bombs,
as if you’re some oddity
they would never understand
even when they don’t know a thing about you.
You are not some machine to be fixed.
You are not a problem.
You are not a burden.
You are a person
healing from the hurt,
finding warmth
under the rain
and wonder
under the stars.
And late at night
as you share
your stories
I feel like the Earth,
listening,
and remembering,
while you are the Moon,
and you are glowing."

i didn't mind getting
paper cuts
for he was
my favorite book

the one you
fell in love with
still lives,
she is just
well hidden
from monsters
like you.

Last night I saw him after two weeks.
He was 9 shots deep,
patron making his breath hot and
heavy on my face when he hugged me hello.

I was cracking open a second beer
while he cut into the chicken breast.

He grabbed my arm and
placed it on the cutting board.
He pressed the knife to my flesh while I took a swig of beer.
He pulled the knife through my skin,
blood bubbling as he said:

"ah. you almost flinched."

He then took me into his mouth,
my blood making his lips and teeth momentarily stained ruby.

I held his head to my cheek and
kissed his neck while he crouched to my height.

I guess this was too tender a moment for him
because he pinned me against the wall and
pulled my hair so hard my feet ceased to touch the floor.

He kissed me with desire,
he kissed me in a way that almost made me flinch.

He kissed me but it didn't feel like a kiss.
He cut me and it felt like love.

every day, speak a little less
reduce the number of words you say from half to
ten less, and then none at all.

Don't forget to be soft.
Kiss your mountaintop goodbye for
one last sunrise and descend
into the night
where it's quiet
like you should be.

one by one, pull back towards yourself
the orbs of energy you've left
bouncing around you in the
atmosphere.
be their chalice
one last time
and watch them burn out.

and when you're reduced to
dying ashes and deathly whispers
a strong voice will suddenly falter
and they wonder -
*didn't we once know a ... ?