You don't need ocean eyes
to drown someone.
When I looked at you
I wondered,
*Why drown in blue
when I can look into your
forest green eyes
And suffocate on branches
and leaves
as they sprout from my throat?

Love was a concept pressed
against the pocket of my mouth
like a tongue in my cheek,
and I kept it tucked away
between broken teeth
and cracked lips.
Love was a thing that always
kept me parched,
and though it sounded soft
coming out of his mouth,
when I bit down
it was as hard as stone.
We didn't know how to love.

I used to whisper stories to the asphalt,
wanting to be anywhere but the city
I lived in.
Passing overhead green signs became routine to me,
I saw them more than birds swooping across civilian streets.
I would drive until I felt at home--
no wonder I still feel unsettled.
I am a modern nomad.
A human vagabond.
As I drove,
counting time in white lines passing
and days in rearview mirror sunsets
I'd beg to the roads,
"Find a life for me, freeway."

We started this in summer

When it was warm and fresh and free,

And our skin shined gold

Because we are

The gems of our generation.

 

But you left.

 

And the seasons changed.

 

It is now winter, and my heart is freezing cold.

Our romance has turned into

Nothing more than a

Light snowfall:

Slow and steady,

But when it settles,

It leaves the ground heavy.

Hearts heavy.

And our kisses are like

The cold, bitter wind:

They can travel

The distance,

But when they reach you,

It’s no longer a gentle

Breeze to caress your face.

Rather a hard slap that brings

You to tears when it

Hits you head on.

 

And I’m hoping

 

Since the next season is spring,

That we can crush everything we were

Into the dirt.

Grind it with the heels of

Our sneakers

Until there is nothing.

Then we can use the tears

I’ll bring--

From realizing that I’d

Rather have an ocean between us

Than three measly states--

And maybe the showers

That spring will bring,

That the angels will cry for us

When they see

Their two broken soldiers

Walking away from

What they could've been,

To sprout our romance from the dirt

And pick up right where we

Left off

Just before summer starts again.

There are drafts that sweep through the gaps in your house, held up just like ribcages; but the difference between a house and a home is whether the heart lies in it.

I bet you the stars feel the same way you do: lost in the vast body of the universe.
I bet they feel small among all of their cosmic peers.
I bet they feel like there are thousands of stars just like them.
Yet we still lie down in the grass,
in the middle of the street,
on rooftops
to gawk at their beauty,
though they're light-years away.
To stare at how dazzling they look on black canvas.
Fall in love with the constellations.