Fuzzy eyes to forget
who we are and
who we aren't with.
Because these definitely aren't our names
and somehow
it's helping.

1
I remember her body against me

She tells me she doesn't want to get hurt
That I will break her heart

You can break me like a wishbone
and keep the better half

Sharpen it like a prison shiv
and stab me with it if I do

2
She is the snow
I am a stove in a single room cabin

I have been cutting off parts of this home
and feeding them into my belly

There is sawdust
on the floor of my love

3
Most of this house is gone now
I am still a stove
she is still snow

We both think
this heat is a good idea

I keep burning

Call her iglu
Call her daring
Call me almost homeless

4
I have left the stove

I am a candle now

Slow burning

Call me always hot still

Call her always melting

The floor is always wet

5
I tried to trap the ocean
in a dresser drawer

But we were flooded roofless

I learned to hold my breath

She learned that warmth doesn't really change anything

There was the sun
and it heated her body

I bathed in the ocean
she made
a thin
near burnt candle

I sank down

Her heart was made of winning halves of wishbones
Sharpened like shivs

I did not go near them

I am not afraid of getting hurt
But I have always been taught
to respect the sea

How it starts is there's an apartment your family lives in
You do not live there
but your stuff does
Then you find out your mom brought bed bugs home from the rehab center

They are downsizing everything now
You show up with 3 boxes
and tell yourself
these can hold more than enough

Mostly you fill them with your favorite books
and in the heat of it
even that feels trivial

But you look at the photos in the frames
The pictures of you at six flags on your last birthday
You let those go
The paper towel painting Monica did at the lake
It's all in a box marked trash now

You joke to yourself about how silly
they would look on the dashboard of your car

The old electronics
and journals
writing contest trophies

You take an inventory
of everything you've ever owned
all your clothes have been thrown away

and you leave with just three boxes
and you ask yourself

"If my life were on fire
what would I save?"

only you can't answer that question
because when the fire is burning
it's not that everything looks as important as everything else
so much as nothing does
not even you

So you smile
and say that you are happy to leave everything behind
because now you have the joy of the memory of having it

Only this time
there is a girl
and she is riding shotgun in your car as you drive away

And maybe she can see the mixed emotion on your face
like driving of a cliff in your boss's car
only he is in the trunk

And she scratches the back of your head
and says
"Tell me a story handsome"

I was looking at your chest x rays on the lighted wall

Your straight spine centered behind your rounded ribcage
Looks like busted churchgates
from all the times you let your ghosts go

And there are bees buzzing in your shoulders only
you aren't cold this time

So much faith in what I do with words
Willing to love me like a half written gospel
we are filling in as we go

And I want to write us poetry
like the first man was asked to play the first piano

Come
dance with me to my deathbed

I am afraid
That one day I might kiss you
like a deaf stethoscope
that no longer hears your heart

That this language will grow stale
Along with your faith in me

but my knees
are riverbeds for prayer

And I carry my chest heavy like a library
full of books that hate the silence

You should know that
being a poet is more than just a choice

and maybe my body is like a library
but when I pray to you
I'll never use my inside voice

Just like I know that god used nails
to make the iron in your blood stream

That you'll be strong even when you're old
and even then
I still want you to believe in me

When we are like trains that no longer run the tracks
when we've fully mapped the topography of our bodies

But some days
our engine chests come back

and I write a poem about you that is new

And you listen
To my huff and rumble
you lift your tea and saucer with shaking hands
I close my eyes
and hear our train coming

i can smell saltwater when i walk outside
and it's like my body is finally home.
this little ocean town makes me feel safe and restless.
it makes me feel like falling in love
or getting so drunk i can't stand up
and i'm not sure i know the difference anymore.
i'm not sure i want to stay standing
and i don't know what's good for me anymore,
or maybe i do know and i just want the opposite.
either way, this saltwater is making me want to make a mistake.
i just want to let the ocean swallow me whole because nothing else seems to be able to.
i wanna waste away in this tourist town for the rest of my life.
i want to let the ocean's salt rub my skin away
so then maybe i won't feel so trapped.

you always wanted to love yourself
but the timing was never right.
you're a worried sunday
and a vicious compliment
and you're fading away.
you're a rusty nail posing as a daisy.
you're still the only one who knows me.

i used to think my body would look prettier in a casket
but i spent hours looking at it in a mirror anyway.
sometimes I feel like my body doesn’t want me in it anymore,
or like my mind is trying to trick me into leaving.
my aching limbs and tired heart make me feel like
my body has been around for longer than I’ve been in it.
it's only just now starting to feel like it's mine
because when enough grown men yell at you from their pickup trucks
and enough frat boys shout at you from their porches,
you start to learn that your body isn’t really yours,
and it took me too long to be upset about that.
because when i stopped eating, i was the only one
who could feel that pit in my stomach,
and the only one who had to live in my exhausted body.
and i’m still not sure if i liked that or not,
but i do know that it made me feel strong.
and it took me too long to unlearn that feeling.
that safe feeling i’d get when i was all wrapped up in my hip bones and clavicles
and the waist i was always so scared to spill out of.
it took me years to learn that a cold heart isn't a blessing
but my feet still haven't gotten the message
i carry worry in my teeth
and shyness in my ankles,  
i’m filled to the brim with feelings that
mix together so much, i can't tell which is which anymore,
and i overflow so often that i should be drowning in saltwater by now.
my heart races so fast,
it's a miracle i’m still alive.
but on those days when i’m held together with safety pins and good intentions
when i wear lipstick like armor and couldn't look you in the eyes if i tried
i will curl my knees against my chest
and hope that that will be enough to keep me in my body.
my body, that’s filled with endless love and cruelty
but not enough courage
it’s an argument i can’t win
it's a house i’m locked inside of,
but i’m not planning on going anywhere.

you see women like roadmaps,
wanna know how far they can get you
before you leave them crumpled on the floor of some gas station
you’ll never see again in your life.
you think i’ll help you find your way,
but i’m too lost myself.
i know you’re trying to figure out where you’re going,
but my veins won’t mark your path;
my lips won’t take you anywhere.
my heart’s not a compass as much as it is an alarm clock,
but i know you’d be gone long before morning anyway.

I think of her
running her hands over your hair and across your face
and it makes me sick.

Because I know I get frustrated with the way you want me
and it may seem I don't appreciate you
and I know I need to work on letting you have your space.

But she doesn't know you're self-conscious of your scars
or that touching them makes you squirm.
She's going to try to kiss you
and maybe you'll let her
but then she'll find out your lips are soft like clouds
and she'll never want to stop.

She's going to start growing weak when you speak
because every word has a meaning
and eventually she'll learn which smile is the one that means you've let go of the past
- if only for the moment.

She'll start to grow sad when you need time alone.
She doesn't know that painting's your whole life
and she won't understand.
She won't know that writing's the way you escape
when your mind is too narrowed on your past to focus on the future.

Because you won't tell her about Nigeria
or why you have to feel in control
or maybe you will, once you're sure she's the one.

But I guess if she makes you happy, I'm happy.
Because that's all I've ever wanted for you.
No wait - I'm not that selfless
because I still love you, too...