I am an old thing.
I am all the love and concern and happiness and anxiety
of all the past generations.

I am a new thing.
I am borne from the differences—the spaces between—
all the past generations.

When will it take for me to speak?
Will I wait?
Should I?
I don’t know.

When will I finally say,
that it’s you who makes me shiver?
When? Will it be today,
or tomorrow?

When will I see,
how pathetic I actually am?
for thinking of saying
what my heart’s screaming

When will I have the courage,
to actually say something?
After weeks, months,
or years?

Will I ever? Or not.
Should I?
No.
I will never.

And it's alright
Calling out for somebody to hold tonight
When you're lost, you'll find a way
I'll be your light
You'll never feel like you're alone
I'll make this feel like home

Make a little conversation
So long I've been waiting
to let go of myself and feel alive.

You want to know what I love about you?
I love your beaming smile
And the way it makes
Your hazel eyes squint
And the way you kiss me like
I just got off a battleship

I love your soft cheeks
And pouty lips
I love your messy hair in my face
When your delicate head
Lays upon my chest

And the feeling of your soft skin
Pressed against mine
Your naive laughter
Bounces moonbeams through my chest
And makes your dark eyes shine

I love the way your body fits
So perfectly in my arms
Right next to mine
Like we were molded together
Long ago
Two lost pieces
That aligned in time
Like when Orion meets
Artemis in the winter sky

Far away from tear filled nights
Gasping last words
Into a phone speaker
As she says it didn't mean a thing
Like a pretty old box
Holding an abonded engagement ring

Last chance
Car crash and last breath
But every moment leading to the next
And you fall into my life like a comet

You ask what I love about you?
I'll tell you someday
To tell you now

Is like printing the words of Shakespeare
On soft cover page

Hi Ma, it's me
Me, equivalent to the extra ten pounds
That have molded so perfectly to round out my hips and belly.
Me, equivalent to everything society wants to shut out
Fat, free, female.
Me, becoming ever so used to flashing my intelligence
Instead of the skin everyone either wants to see too much of
Or encourages me to hide.
No...everything's alright
Everything, like the fact that my girl friends and I
Pass around stories of ****** abuse and harassment over tea.
Everything, like being told my worth is based on
How many men I have slept with.
Everything, like being told I should feel repentant
For no longer being a ******.
Okay, talk to you later.
I won't talk to you about
How I have no interest in the "ring by spring" phenomenon.
I won't talk to you about
How, at a Christian school, LGBTQ+ students are given a dwindling voice
As if the fire in their words will burn down a failing hierarchy.
I won't talk to you about
How hard it is to make anyone take me as seriously
As they do my male friends
Same opinions, same demeanor, different parts.
I love you
Love is supposed to be unconditional
So why am I encouraged to work so viciously to earn it
As if there is not enough to go around?
Love is supposed to benefit both parties
So why, as a woman, do I still get treated like my partner's property
As it is still custom for a father to give his daughter away to another man?
Love is supposed to be understanding
So why are **** victims still chastised by society
If they appreciate a trigger warning?
Bye.

& im bleeding, a rotten corpse on lace lining, lacerations like ventricles holding heart to walls          ringed knuckles wiggling down the throat of a womb ripe with choking god judgement, cutting holes into stockings to reveal a wild garden of desire           molding peanut butter & starving intestines
        
the boys told me welcome to a place where ***** makes us adore you          welcome to a place where sometimes it stops between poison dripped fingertips & sometimes it doesnt, jaw unhinged & aching, spilling chunks of love on your thighs