how do you speak to me
with the fullness of novels
and not say a word?

tell me why you love to travel
is it the spin of tires
or the anxiety on airplanes
is it the stranger's stares
or the adventure in new things
tell me why you love me
I'm scared I'm the small town
you stay in for a while
I'm scared you're on to something better
im scared I'll be left with a red pin
like the one on your map
I'm scared of everything
but I hope you love me like music
that I'm the soundtrack of your trip
i hope you love me like an album
that you listen to
all the way through, again and again



mostly I hope
we can love it all together
you love me
I love you
love  music playing over
the sound of a train car moving
the scene of luggage closing

the swelling within me is pressing and true
with every fragment of thought
for an unfathomable you.
uncovering insights in dusty old words
but words that are whispered again
as every clock turns.
you're there even in the shadows
when my vision is weak
and my faith so shallow
on the city's streets
when foreign thoughts rendered
catch my mind in a snare
and i am broken by
each pedestrian's stare.
where can i go that you are not?
where can i hide my corrupt thought?
how do i appear under your magnificent light?
how could i be any sort of favored sight.
that swelling, still growing and you're taking my hand
'a few more steps up the mountain, i'll help you to stand'
looking up over my should you're smiling down
as if you your faith is in me
and you know me somehow
that look breeds a mirror in my soul
'cause with hope like that i can reflect you in whole.
no where can i go to that you are not,
a tireless pursuit of my broken heart.
sewn back together, an almighty restoration
trusting that i am your divine creation
you sweep away the brokenness
and  strengthen my feet,
to walk up the mountain,
to finally see.

i miss you like a cigarette, and you were no good for me too.

somewhere far away, among the mountain breeze,
there lies the difference between you and me.
running swift, frantically, up around broken trees,
through our lost meadow, among the  debris.
pale white skin, broken with bones
never quite enough, to  make her
feel at home.
posture of an arrow, knees weak like a leaf.
in the middle of autumn, waiting on the brink.
still air, and shallow breath, time moving quickly.
running from fear, or running to me.
yet still in a storm, still lightening comes, a surprise.
you didn't see it coming, it's there In your eyes.
treading back down the hill, you watch your feet move
away from the crime seen, nothing left to prove.
now in the cool breeze, still the clock always tics.
starry skies and the lies, in our heads, they still click.

somewhere far away, among the mountain breeze,
there lies the difference between you and me.
running swift, frantically, up around broken trees,
through our lost meadow, among the  debris.
pale white skin, broken with bones
never quite enough, to  make her
feel at home.
posture of an arrow, knees weak like a leaf.
in the middle of autumn, waiting on the brink.
still air, and shallow breath, time moving quickly.
running from fear, or running to me.
yet still in a storm, still lightening comes, a surprise.
you didn't see it coming, it's there In your eyes.
treading back down the hill, you watch your feet move
away from the crime seen, nothing left to prove.
now in the cool breeze, still the clock always tics.
starry skies and the lies, in our heads, they still click.

i missed you so much it ate at me like a parasite, unnoticed, hollowing me from the inside out, until i saw you again and then the hole it created, as you so effortlessly filled it up.

there's a dull ache that you can hear underneath my words
if you listen closely,
i don't speak very often anymore
but i still say a lot
to those who are trying to hear me.
this is true on most days.
other days there is an emptying hole
behind the phrases i utter
and anther worse in place of the ones i don't
but no one can see that,
not even the ones who want to,
because on those days no one can see me,
the hole has swallowed me up
with every word
i was too afraid to say.

you were able some how to shift me
when i hadn't spoken to anyone for weeks
you still figured a way to turn me on my side.
i know everything is a mess now
and that regret build high walls
but i am thankful for you,
i don't think i ever said so.
i should have said so.
you taught me so much
i never knew about myself,
and that was the least of what you did for me.
thank you for gently walking into my head
even after i said no one was welcome.
after it all, i am thankful.

i was never good with an embrace.
i never knew how to find a comfortable grip.
i'm so used to staying far away
that i haven't learned what it means to
share a space with anybody.
but somehow in spite of myself,
you found a way to stand upon
the creaky floorboards of my mind
and leave foot prints on every blank sheet
my mind uses to release the words that have
always entangled me.

an air of disappointment in the breath before I speak. sorry Im not strong enough to bring this out from underneath. you can see it spelled in black, behind the things that I sing. then lack of explanation, intention and retreat. forgive me, im cryptic, all of this is new. I’m learning how to walk again but I can’t keep up with you. let me lie down, let me sound a smile in your ear. tie it up like puppet strings and pull away my fear.
because the moon carries a fresh terror, and I’m taunted in my sleep. for what i hide from myself, what im faced with in my dreams. an uneven change of pressure in the space under my chest, failing to contain those little broken breaths.
now promises are pennies to me, I melt them for their zinc. can’t take your glassy eyes on me as I’m standing on brink. dark blue sky and last month’s winds, in the air under my palm. you’re in the window ‘cross the street and im half way gone. trembling in fear, desperate screams from two floors down, I’m shaking, making heavy steps, to an awful heaving sound.
go back inside your bedroom, look away and do it now. ‘cause I don’t want you to remember what I looked like on the ground.
again back in darkness, heart still pounding, fear still real. I’m left with only memories of that rusty window sill.

you tell me so often,
how badly you want me to be okay
that i have become afraid
to let you down

and every time you ask,
"how are you doing?"
i try to smile and i lie
because i want to give you what you want

but i dont know how to be okay
im doing all that i can
so i give you second best
they say, *ignorance is bliss.

numbers and measures filling my head
constantly counting, always under fed
i think that you notice me
shifting my plate with a fork
but you dont notice me
fainting in the bathroom
or crying in bed
i dont think you notice
when i skip meals
and run for an hour
but i cant stop
even though i feel miserable
and my head always aches
i cant stop
even though i am consumed with numbers
and it haunts me when i wake
i cant stop
though i've made promise again
and i always feel weak
i cant stop
because i want this, that number
to be lower than i've seen.
i want to disappear under my sweater
and feel light in your arms
i've gotten used to feeling dizzy
grown to like all the harm
so i'll shove off your worry and
i'll lie when you ask
go again until those digits
are smaller than my last.

you stayed with me all night,
watching me sick and miserable
and enduring my terrible moans,
you studied my face
and the inconsistencies of my breath,
and at the end of it all you still said,
'you looked gorgeous last night,
im so glad you're okay.'

shaded windows and broken mirrors
gliding paper, too soft to hear
you're on the bed
rambling off words
but i'm clinging to the corner
trying not to be heard
sick with shallow breathing
scared that i will faint
i didn't want you to see me
so i asked if you could leave
but you were slow and wouldn't go
so i headed for the door
but when i turned the corner
i couldn't see anymore.

there was a time when i could feel you through the miles
and despite it all my heart felt warm with the thought of you
but now i feel like the distance has doubled
and i feel so far away
from you
and from everyone else

there was a time when your words were enough
whispering that im the only one, your favorite girl
but after all the hours that pass between your apologetic updates
i doubt that i matter
to you
or to anyone else

words are not enough.

i never wanted this

it was never my idea

i only did what you asked of me.

you closed every door i tried to open,

i tried to take us somewhere new

but every time you locked me out

then sliped me a key that doesn’t work

and in the end i got desperate

‘cause old friends screamed at me ‘let go’

i never wanted to do it

but you told me to so boldly

and watched me trembling over my words,

looking for one last answer.

you told me to end it like it was over,

like i had already done it.

please know i never asked for this

this was never my idea

i tried to salvage what you severed

and piece it back together.

and now it’s all scattered

in songs and faded scenes

and though most of me is cold and weeping

some still arranges all the parts like a puzzle

desperately

hoping

that it’s not actually forever.

you made me etch a goodbye to you
in dark ink on my arm
so that any time i'd write again
i'd remember all that'd gone wrong

you gave me all responsibility
for the pain we both felt
but how can all the blame fall on me
when two ends we both held

you keep singing i'll forget you but that will never be the case,
some days i sure want to but you've locked it this way
you and i will never speak again
and i'll hold all reget
but soon enough you won't hurt for me
and the memories will rest

let time pass
let time pass
let time pass
there's nothing i can do
to change your perception of me now
there's nothing i can do
to hid that goodbye on my arm
there's nothing i can do

i mumbled under the covers, my misery in words not as sharp
and spun on my back through tears of remorse
because i made
countless
mistakes
i screamed internally the insecurity that was building day after day
and rolled my regret up like quarters, getting heavier and heavier
then i lied
to myself
again
i woke up to shady memories of a sorry self-conscience
and i was pulled out of bed with a force not my own
then i cried
to myself
in the car
you showed me the things that brought back smiles
and sang with me in the corner
so that i
felt light
again
you sat me down gently, you spoke through my hair
and you told me not to worry
that death
could not
take me
you showed me the middle, where i stood then,
and nodded behind me before pointing forward  
so i knew
which way
to go