I fall
in love
with the way
his eyes become stars
that shine in the
dead of night
when he voices his passions.
Feeling the burn of his
soul radiate
off his skin.
Savoring his energy
like a freshly baked cookie.

I become infatuated
in the way he cannot
control his expression
when his smile consumes
his entire face, overpowering
the words exploding off
his lips.

I become engrossed
in the way he can be
unapologetically himself,
wearing imperfections like
a snug sweater
making the cold irrelevant.

I fall
in love
not with the temporary
beauty of him
but with the essence of the world  
that lives inside his shell.

I’ve been told
that my touch
is like knives,
and I tend to
leave scars
when I get to
know people.

You claimed
to be scared
of commitment,
yet I can see the
tattoos that cover
your skin.

I guess the pain
of me wasn’t
worth it because
I can feel myself
fading from your
skin and I hope
everything is dull
compared to me.

I’m obsessed
with counting.
Even the 47 steps
to my English class.
When that became
boring I created a way
to document, not  
time, but distance.
And 47 turned to 54.

681 days since I
cut 11 inches
off my hair.

359 days since he
said Keep in touch
when the last
thing I wanted
to do was touch him.

319 days since she
didn’t text back and
then 294 days later
moved 1,731 miles
away and by now I
wouldn’t even know
where to send a letter.

One day
I decided to get
another haircut,
but I no longer bother
to know the measurements
of the pieces that
are only going to be
swept away.

He asked me
my favorite flower
and I said I don’t have one
because I didn’t want him
to buy me flowers.

Not just him,
I don’t want anyone
to buy me flowers.

I want someone
to plant flowers
within me,
water them,
stay to watch
them grow
outside of me
and never die.

Yet, he’ll never get it.
That’s probably why
he bought me flowers
that I watched die
sitting on my desk.
And I didn’t even
press the petals.

I stopped doing
my favorite things
because I was
sick of doing them
alone.

You say Hey
to see if I’ll say Hey back.
You take great meaning
out of it, I do it out of
common courtesy.

You ask me how I am,
not because you care,
because you want me
to care about you.

Laying your burdens
on me, because I clearly
look strong enough
to hold them.

You’ve filled every
line on my hand, and
now I really wouldn’t
have room to hold
anything because your
hand is always there.

You kiss me
just to see if I’ll
kiss you back.

You test boundaries,
you lay more than just
your words onto me,
that I try to make
into a crossword puzzle.

You plant your hand
on my thigh, my stomach,
trying to link the
the points of my body.
But I’m not made out of paper.
I am not written in Braille,
you don’t have to touch me
to know my story.



You were trying to
cover my skin with
memories of you,
and that’s why
I cover them up.

When will you learn
the point of loving
isn’t to be loved back?

I’m done trying to teach you,
you’re not my problem
to solve anymore.

For not occupying
very much of it
I need space.
Taking more than
I can give.

I don’t have room in here
for all the people I want to be
let alone any spare rooms
for you to crawl into.

To you my skin would be
a snug sleeping bag
but to me it’s being loved
into a corner of myself.
The only way out is to zip
ourselves together and
for me to lose storage space.

There were little clues
like you asking me
if it was okay to get a haircut or
to help you pick out your jeans.
You wanted me to become you,
but I wouldn’t fit your mold
so you’re trying to fit mine.

But did you even consider me
before you moved in?
You may know that I cut
eleven inches of my hair
twenty-two months ago,
but do you care why?

Don’t exhaust me,
and try to find out what I hang
on the walls of myself, or what keeps
my grandfather’s clock ticking or
why there are no windows.

There aren’t many
I would invite in, probably
why my walls were built so small,
but to you they are an expansion project.
You see a house warming party
where I see invasion.
A For Sale sign has never
been more appalling.

Inhaling to expand myself
like a balloon, bigger and bigger
so people will see that just because
it may not look like it,
I take up a lot of space and
I deserve it because I am
denied of it.