The radiant sun beating down on your porcelain skin cannot warm the coldness of your heart.

You're a dream, your face is a masterpiece and your eyes hold unlimited universes but the words that grace your blossom lips are venom.

They sink into my flesh like fangs and I'm wounded. Your presence is captivating and I'm haunted when you're not around but it's a heavy feeling.

You're unkind, spiteful and deceptive, a thesaurus cannot fully label the horrid personality you created for yourself. You were blessed with an angels face but you sinned my life with a devilish grin and the words that lured me in.

This week,
I trudged along the cold, salty
waters of the rocking ocean,

I swung my feet gracefully
and walked along the sandy shore,
a ballerina, stretching her feet
to form light, bittersweet
curse words in the sand,

I tilted my head back
to drink in all of the sky,
the stars twinkled
and swallowed me whole,

I scanned the rising horizon
for miles, reached out to abandoned shells
placed at my feet,
quietly listened to the sad, melodic
voices, of gleaming sirens
in the ocean's heart

But despite my breathlessness
in the crisp air, of the gray ocean
I still could not
find you,
the one I so yearn to meet,
the one who could
make me forget the sorrows,
the delicate, hidden pain,

the one who I deserve
to love,
because now, everything else
is no longer worth a thing,

and everyday,
is still like

the stars
going out
in my empty soul.

So many lines and laments
scribed in ink and feeling,
for the girl who is the ocean

but she is a swell and surge
too dauntless and wild,
for a lover whose bones crave the shore.

She craves the squalls and gusts,
and cast iron skies,
a worldly drift to sate the salt in her skin,
the deep pull of currents in her blood.

She is chaotic but not reckless,
she is fickle, but not feckless.
Love her boldly or not at all
her bones belong to the sea
but she will always return to the shore.

my mother told me
to stop crying.

i wished i could sail away
on the the rivers of sorrow
that stemmed from my foggy eyes,
to get away from here.

but she insisted
that i would find someone
with sunshine in their eyes
to make home
a little less dark.

i remember the first night
that i could feel you in my chest.
there were five of us in the room,
but i could swear
that you only told stories to me.

now, i could feel the white-hot spotlight
on the two of us,
but it was you that turned off the switch.

the first night that i felt close to you,
we were near.
you were drunk
but we counted the lights on the ceiling
and you told me that they were stars.

the second night,
you were drunk
but we watched bob ross
until the clock on the wall gave out,
and when he painted the sunset
with his little feather brush,
i could swear he was painting my ribs.

the third night,
you were drunk
and we crept into your room.
the lava lamp was on,
we tiptoed around your roommate,
and i saw the artificial sunlight
dancing on the wall.
you held me closer
than i ever had been
and your heart beat with mine.

you held me so tightly
that i swear i could feel
you fusing my broken pieces back together
and now i can't stop grasping my chest
to feel it again.

i woke up and you were sober,
and i'll be ******
if you weren't closer to me
than when there was more beer
in your veins than blood,
our foreheads aligned.

you held me in your arms
and still liked me anyway.
you could feel my insecurities
under your ******* fingertips,
and you could still find the light
within my cumulonimbus body.

i thought that you saw the sunset
within my golden hair
that got caught in your sleeve
that first night
and i thought you were open.

here's the thing:
i didn't know your eyes were blue
until the night that i saw them closed
as you were kissing another girl.

i mistook your alcoholic flambé
as a substitute for sunlight
and i'll be ******
because i can't emerge from the smoke.

you taught me
that the sunset is blue,
even if you don't notice until the last minute,
and that once someone's fingers
are intertwined with your ribs,
it takes warmth
to get them out.

i saw the sunlight in your eyes
when nobody else did.

you saw the rays
emanating from my body
when i was sure
that i was nothing but clouds
and wind that makes your skin sting
from the cold.

and all we're left with
(all that i'm left with)
is searching for the cloud break
just one more time.

So you've come home from being off at war
Won't you come inside where it's nice and warm
Let me take your coat, oh my you feel cold
It seems you've returned but you're no longer whole
Did the price of your return include a piece of your soul
You're still the one I remember from before you left
But the bones you used to hold me up with now need their own place to rest

Forced trust breeds jealousies
and in loving shells grow enemies

I'm sorry I'm now a careful thing
that I play in the shallows
eyes high to the trees.
Around the edges:
Where I can say I love you
and mean it and still be able to flee.
Because the last time the storm came
I nearly drowned.
So now I know every water safe bolt-hole
and how to run.
But I wish I still cliff-dived
into the deep of the lake
instead of staying
close and safe.

She adjusts her veil,
smoothes her white dress of lace.
Touches up her makeup,
hiding the bruises upon her face.

He drinks all day;
barely ever makes it home.
She has someone who calls her "Mama,"
But she has never felt so alone.

The little girl hides under the table,
her tiny hands covering her ears.
Blocking out the angry screams,
and all the fighting that she hears.

Each slap gets harder,  
etched into her soul,
Mama wants to leave,
but where would they go.

Every hideous word uttered,
more stinging than the last.
What did I do to deserve this torment,
her Mama dares herself to ask.

One day it's too late,
her mama dies by Daddy's hand.
Soon the sirens fade;
the little girl never sees him again.

Mama's little girl grows up thinking,
this is how love is supposed to be.
She finds a man like Daddy,
and soon, history repeats.

First he called her ugly names,
his true colors began to show.
His words she believed,
because what other way did she know.

Mama's little girl,
now has a baby of her own,
A blue-eyed little girl,
to follow in her footsteps when she's grown.

Angry slaps, another curse.
His fist goes through the wall.
The little girl stares in horror,
"Mama, this isn't love at all."

Another fight and shameful bruises,
each word uglier and louder than before.
The pieces of her heart, jagged and torn,
she vows to fix her broken soul.

The girl packs their bags,
running away in the murky night.
She hugs her own little girl close,
as they drive out of sight.

Houses fade in the rearview mirror,
she tosses memories into the wind.
Makes God a promise,
no one will ever hurt Mama's little girl again.