There's a way to my heart
You're bulldozing the off roads
Every test
You surpass
What is it, if not true?

I think about the places
I roamed at night
With heartbreak as my inspiration
Then I came to you:
the hope and the dead end

The map is something larger than us.

And I thank you for being
Afraid, afraid, afraid enough
To crash us off track
Where we'll never know the truth

I want you to write words
against my thighs
Lingering inside the crevices
that make poetry make sense

I want the pressure of your fingers
strumming my lines
Letting go of fear
Crying out with wonder

I want the imprint of your lips
to teach me how to play
Without formula and potion

A magic derived from the
sanctity of your love

There's a girl I couldn't stop thinking about
She often smiles, she gives when she has none to give,
And she likes to do the right thing.

There's a girl I'll never stop thinking about
She winked, she took when I had nothing left to give,
And she liked what power could bring.

There's a girl in between that I sometimes forget
She did not talk, she had nothing to give,
And she liked to be honest in everything.

The girl I am is probably memorable
I flirt a lot, I give when there is something to get
I like a piece of each of them.

Where's the catch, where's the fairytale
I'm playing a game, all to no avail

I have a bad habit of re-reading.
Those texts; the birthday cards; the love letters
It's something about visiting my thoughts
that almost makes me validate them
The way longer words connect,
and pointed words hit home.

Sometimes I write the feelings I don't understand
Closing my eyes to picture the grief and fear
Gulping back confusion
Because where I've ended up is getting more clear.
It may take years, but I return to the page
Of me and you
But really it's me, it's the dreams and the desires
The conscience, although mine's tired

The pages speak to me such that
I want to say, "I see"
The thing about re-reading those letters to you
is that the message, it's always been for me

There's a TV in the corner
Playing scenes that help me cry
Ones where the lover returns,
Ones where the innocent die

Some days they won't be there
the friends we cried with
the lovers we whispered, "forever", to
the ones who brought us into this world.

Some days we grip our sheets tighter
Layer our lungs with old scents
Take longer walks, as if we have a destination.

Some days we just have to wait to see who returns.

Legs skinned, flesh peeling away
My hands search for something and conceal another
It's hard to tell in the red dimness
of the moment

I feel both the pressure and pride
that comes with leadership
The plan is under way
Manipulation comes easily
When the Devil digs her pointed nails further
Into the slit separating bone from blood
---
When I wake up
My heart is heavy
My mind tangled
Jaw sore from the raw inside of my cheek

For the rest of the day
I am left with the question of what it means
To still be alive