the shrubbery looked like sheep
pale like your grandmother before she died
and I climbed though the hills to find you
but this is not your country, this is not your land
the tires shook like trembling hands and we made eye contact through the fog,
signed our names in the mud,
splintered out hands on telephone poles,
replaced our veins for the roots of weeds
said they look about the same,
the waves looked tamed,
I think we'll make out okay.
then I started running, crushing yellow toys under my toes
and you chased after me,
bringing an east dust
that we inhaled like like smoke
and exhaled in a kiss.
we followed the spill in the floorboards
and held eyes
we wet our fingertips like paintbrushes
and stroked 'I love you' 'cross our noses.
you made stories of the dead leaf branches,
told me they were only clouds
but I mistook that for clowns
and I laughed over my shoulder.
you caught me as I fell
and so we fell together
into our favorite weather
soaked our clothes in promises we don't worry about keeping
they will keep themselves
and I'll keep you
here in the tangles of my scarf
in the pictures of my mind
and in the smiles that we breathe.
I traded oxygen for this
and I have never breathed easier,
I have never trusted better,
I have never known this color.
dawn comes with black lids and dimmed stars,
we head home with lightbulb hearts.

I've been in a lavender melancholy
and I think my bones are the bows of violins
to some symphony my heart plays
that I'm not sure who conducts.
and through a humming night,
I've been watching you swim
that hue in the sky,
the grapefruit pink making lines across your arms.
you know, I've got my money on this shadow.
I can see it pointing west
and to the way you you try to breathe me,
up and out of the willows,
patient as I winnow these thoughts.
you smile at me staring at the soft prints of pink.
I've been waiting for a dawn,
been waiting for the colors to change.
that bed of stars is fading,
well, we'll see 'em next year.
we're under a lavender sunrise
and there's a serenade the leaves create,
there's a harmony our hearts can make.

some parts of ourselves we simply can not keep
like cancer and wisdom teeth
and it hurts so badly to cut them out
like bitterness and jealousy
but it hurts much worse to let them be.

i feel like i am the sun and you are an iceberg
i can not touch you
and still you beg me to

some of the time i will have to hide you from my rays
but it will never be to hurt you
some times to grow stronger
it will have to get colder
and i'll have other places to be

do you trust with i say i'll never truly leave?
i know for you it is hard to believe
but take it from the girl who already surprised you once
take it from the girl who already found your trust
take what i have while i hope it's enough

you are an iceberg
do you know what that means?
i know you only show the world parts of you
but i also what what it is you keep
way down beneath that icy surface
and i know its much greater than what they ever guessed
i know its much more than you'd ever credit
i know its much more powerful than you ever admit
but are you ready for this?
there are other bittersweet heats than me
some less reckless and some more reliable
remember what it feels like for school children to skate on your back
remember what it felt like to believe you could have it all
you're not so small as you try to be
don't hid from me
i believe in you
i'm ****** if i forget a cliche
believe in yourself
shape both the poles
take a look around me
cause im staying
you are an iceberg
and i am the sun
but i am not the only one
i am not the only one.

you make me smile like maple syrup does kindergardeners on a saturday morning
and i don't mind if my fingers get sticky
lets mold cake batter into whatever shape the clouds make
and lets watch them both change in the wind and under our forks
we've been drinking too much coffee
and letting worries get the best of us
relax a little and lets drink orange juice like children
and fill our bodies with nutrients not caffeine
you know, energy is energy
and i'm pretty sure you're the best thing for me
lets make music with empty pots and wooden spoons
and at the same time, we'll let the toast  burn
because music is music and bread has always been
but i never liked the taste of chance until you came along singing,
"look at the crumbs that crumble in the the folds of my clothes and how they fall so gracefully"
let's fall together grace or no graces we could be a bowl of cereal turned over
and you know i never minded
just how much mess there was to mop up later on
this is breakfast
this is the first day
and i only care that i am sitting next to you.

I’ve been trying to rearrange letters to make sounds that unfortunately don’t translate into anything meaningful
and I’ve been drawing out diagrams to display the small fraction of insight that my heart has decided to be generous with
I am as in the dark as you are
I don’t have answers, just apologies.
I know that are two sides to this and just like my hand I know one is rough, and will bruise and punch but
the other a my softer and will always try to make up for the regretful but nonetheless truthful company she has
the other will nurture, and point to the quiet things.
and maybe that’s not enough
I know you still want both sides connected
a full circle around them each, encasing them to you in a ring.
but I think the main problem is that you don’t make me feel free.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry like a school teacher who has to lie through old dingy frames and slowly break a dream to a young man
because you’re right, that’s life and feelings aren’t choices, they aren’t light-switches
and I can’t turn this off
but I think maybe I could be like a star, maybe I can’t comfort but I can be around anyway.
maybe that’s not what you need and that’s what makes me sorry.
does it matter that I’m sorry?

today, sunday is for reading poetry
but yesterday was for breathing heavy
maybe tomorrow is for walking
for searching
for listening to the sounds that the wind makes
like a nurse on a cigarette break
like children two parents raise
maybe tomorrow is for singing to you
in a voice so heartbreakingly small
it makes souls shake
maybe tuesday is for calling my grandfather
for feeding on the genius of humble experience
for drinking in the songs of decades before me.
maybe wednesday is for resting
resting like reflections on a river's face
always in the same place
but moving, vibrating, dancing
maybe thursday is when it rains too hard
and the house is too cold to be comfortable
maybe the thunder makes the dogs bark
and the echo of a leaky sealing screams at me
"you'll never be as much as you hoped you'd be"
but on friday mornings, i'll watch the flowers grow
i'll walk down a new street looking for a child's face
and tugging on his confidence like shoe strings
because he deserves to know he can run
and run faster than he ever dreamed
maybe saturday is for breathing heavy
but maybe for better reasons
maybe in the setting sun,
when i can see an alive love in the corners
of the cashiers mouth,
maybe thats too much
maybe my lungs swell up
maybe sunday night
when i've finally let the poems aside
you'll ask me again,
"what is life?"

what is life.
maybe this time i'll smile
i'll smile because we both know
we just forget sometimes
life isn't,
we are.
maybe sunday night is for changing the way you ask questions
because the first one didn't bring the right answer
maybe it's time we asked what it is to be alive.
because we know, oh you know
the answer is there in that little gasp the stars steal on the darkest nights
and in the look of a mother's eyes
its that feeling in your chest, the one that feels like the wings of tiny blue birds
drumming to a song that our ears don't know how to hear over the engines of cars
but a song that our eyes see, in the lights of a city at midnight
to be alive is to feel the pain that comes with knowing you're far away
but also knowing that that pain exists because you,
you're the match of my creation, if only for this moment.
to be alive is love the sunrise
because even when it is too much for your tired eyes,
even when you broke during the night,
the sun comes to set it right.

show me what it means to be alive
it never stops
it goes on like a river,
finds it's way into an ocean
it continues like pages of poetry,
the songs that a heart sings,
a mind stitching up dreams.
today sunday is for reading poetry
but yesterday was for breathing heavy.

i am so tired, but so not tired.
i have grown tired of it.
i am walking away from sharpness
sliding into an embrace
there's no time for hardness
i dreamt i was a sunflower of forgiveness
i'm following my dreams
i'm bending cliches
i don't give a ****
i am so tired, but so not tired
i am ready
im quitting
im starting
im running back to you
away from it
again
try again
go
don't forget
rest
comes
remember rest comes.

is it fair not to write,
from fear of becoming
that babbling co-worker
at the bottom of the steps
that everyone gave a sorry smile?

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.

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

I'm sorry that life drives fast, riding the tail of clock hands
and that when you walk up the steps after working those overtime hours,
you need a little bit to yourself, you need a movie in the dark.  
I'm sorry that the rolling credits to you are eternity knocking,
I'm sorry that life gets so heavy.
like the heals of your shoes,
in every tread on the pavement
I wish we could go waltzing
I wish I could inspire a spring in your step
I wish I was growing up strong enough to feel the wind as its blown
and plan my day's by the sun
I wish I wasn't growing up weighed down by work boots of my own,
late nights under books that I never chose to read,
tokens of time stolen from my pocket while I watch
those lips move and those lips say nothing.
I wish I really was a super hero.
I wish I could turn back time.
I wish those credits rolling didn't remind me I'll never catch up with now.
and I'm sorry i don't know how,
to lift those little nails from your tires,
to make this easier on you.
I'm sorry that I leave the room
before the credits even come,
that my priorities are never quite in order
like the cupboard I never cleaned,
and the thank you you haven't received,
like the months I quit all but breathing
and left you to hold us both up.
and the time after when I hid in the dust
aggressively ashamed of myself
and still somehow blaming you for that and
for how I hate the credits that roll.  
and the arrows that toll each ebbing hour,
from you and from me,
from the could be memories.

I'm sorry.
life moves fast
and a heart is heavy.

I'd still love to learn to waltz.

I'm looking for a broken glass cure
want to melt away my solidarity in the flames
that  makes shadows over your smile crinkled face
I'm craiving 2am mischief, a walk to the shore,
cigarettes in a cave.
help my fellowship deficiency with street performers and a southwest mirage confused for a finish line.
I need rooftop dialogues and cold pizza eaten on the hardwood.
I miss laughter spilled coffee and falling puzzle pieces,
I need borrowed clothes and unannounced visits, tears in my eyes and a pain in my side. inside jokes and a reason to leave my bedroom.
I'm looking for a broken glass cure in a place with no rocky shore to aim at.

I'm looking for a broken glass cure
want to melt away my solidarity in the flames
that  makes shadows over your smile crinkled face
I'm craiving 2am mischief, a walk to the shore,
cigarettes in a cave.
help my fellowship deficiency with street performers and a southwest mirage confused for a finish line.
I need rooftop dialogues and cold pizza eaten on the hardwood.
I miss laughter spilled coffee and falling puzzle pieces,
I need borrowed clothes and unannounced visits, tears in my eyes and a pain in my side. inside jokes and a reason to leave my bedroom.
I'm looking for a broken glass cure in a place with no rocky shore to aim at.

i'll hold my conscience like a penny
and toss it in the well
because i don't want to know,
i could never know
let the pressure of decision
oxygenate with the copper
i want to swim in an Italy ocean
brighten the blue in their eyes
so i can see what was supposed to be
erase the lines we though't we'd trace
this painting was never ours to remake
melt that penny
i want the zinc
mold it to a chisel and
i'll hand it over
i'm still covered in dust
from that mine i worked in for years
shave my corners
soften my edges
unmake me
create me.

life must have been so cold you
from as early as you can wind back the tape
it must had been all dark clouds
that warm summer from your childhood faded
quickly like my breath on the car window
last night
i know now winter is on its way but your smile has still
forgotten to blossom with the flowers in spring
and im starting to worry maybe it stayed buried somewhere
under the snow, and that maybe that's why you look so uncomfortable
like the gloveless finger in early february
like every touch is as sharp as a knife
and like a deeper breath might freeze your lungs
why are you so afraid?
what kind of disaster plagued you,
and how can i apologize for it.
somewhere an off season taught you that
its not safe to wear sandals in the summer
and that you always have to hide.
i know at times, bitter winds make it hard to trust
and flash floods soil hopes
but life is more than snowed in monday
and i dont want you to live so limited
life must have been so cold to you
show me how far you can wind back the tape
let me see the exact place
your breath started to break
i know your heart is heavy,
it carries a load it was never meant to
set it down
and come outside
i promise the weather is nice
enough of the time
and when its not,
when the rain comes in like car with failed brakes,
stay with me,
let me hold your umbrella
let me cover your car with a tarp
and dry your clothes
you know, you don't have to do this alone.
the winter is cold but sometimes going outside
makes your heart feel warmer
you've always had what you need to survive this weather
hold on to that
and hold on to your hat
because life is coming fast and i know you're afraid
but i wont let you sit,
convincing yourself you're content
with a life so hopeless as this.
watch the rain with me.

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.

the moon told me a secret
about a night
years ago
when you were still a kid that wore sneakers
and let the grass paint your knees
he told me about the night
when your tin can phone didn't work
when there must have been too many green beans
stuck inside
because no one came when you called
the moon told me summers later
when your bike's tire went flat
going over the train tracks
and you had to walk the whole south block
to find your dog dead at home.
the moon told me how you learned to be alone
but that you never learned to like it,
he told me of the time that you woke in the night
and ran into the lake while you cried
because the dreams you loved always vanished
the moon told me stories from all the years before i met you,
all the times i wish i was around for you.
time is one of two enemies
and clock hands only turn one way
but i never want you to forget
that as long as i live, and maybe sometime after,
i will be on the other end of your tin can phone,
and you can tell me your dreams before memory fails
and i'll walk all eleven blocks with you,
i'll dry your clothes stained with lake water
i'll eat the crust of your sandwich
and finish stories when your eyes grow tired,
we'll learn how not to be alone together
and i hope that we like it.

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.

me, a tiny moth
i'm unsettled
i'm scattered
and i don't know which light is the right one
i'm not the person i knew
or the person i want to me
i feel like a blueprint folded into origami
and i don't know how to be useful
i've been taking magazine clippings
like little bits of stolen wool
i've been keeping them in a book
making pictures of the parts
and i don't know where my heart is
i don't know what i want from the bulb

i wrote letters of hate
and slipped them in between the pages
of the washing machine's manual
because no one reads those
and no one should

and i painted my pride
on the stones near a lake
and then i tossed them to the water
watched them skip before sink

i carved my anger into the skin of oranges
and then dropped them to the ground
and let them nourish the earth

i fed my fear to baby birds
because they are brave enough to fall
before they know how to fly

then i put my greed inside my piggy bank
and coins and all, i left it in my teacher's mailbox
he gets laid off next week.  

and i took everything i love,
anything good i could find within me
and i threw it from a roof top,
because thats the only way i know
wildflowers grow.

you told me once that you love the earth, the way it turns over like a gauge on itself, how everything fits and how each parts is used and reused. i hope you still like it the same after i submit myself to it. i hope you like me the same when i've let myself go.

from balconies the color of butter,
i write apology letters stained in leaky love
on paper wrappers of water drinking glasses
the pen marks are light
all the lines run over.

I am watching myself
from two years prior,
trying to find a minute to break the ice
and break it to myself
that i have missed some of the points

and some of priorities have been placed out of order
like all the letters
we scramble
endlessly
until there is one less tile,
and one less hello,
one more goodbye
and two more
'i don't knows'

i'm stopping the signal for a little while,
there are eight peaches rolling down a hill
and i've been watching for the cross walk
where almost all of them are stopped

(in the inside show of children
they pick them up like baseballs
and they laugh so full
thunder couldn't shake them,
they climbed so high
the balconies made friends with them.)

you move me like the pages of a book.
you don't make me
or change me
you unfold with me
one single motion
fingers and paper
one glorious
reaction
to life's
curious
enthrallment.

read with me
beautiful and real
like f. scott fitzgerald would write
stay up all night
because it's too good to miss
and i love you too much
to ever let
the words rest.

remind me never
to jump too far ahead
never read the last page first
and to enjoy the way
the syllables on every page
flicker off each other's tongue
at always the right pace
lets love even the space
between each chapter.

read with me.

we are drawing circles in the sand
trying to make sense of the birds that flutter in our heads.
like those sandbox cities we used to live in,
we are all fine grained
and we all jump rope,
hoping to jump just high enough,
hoping to laugh,
freely in the company of swinging ponytails,
eager like the boy to just learned how to snap.
show me all the stones you hold in your hand,
tell me the stories that come with them.
let's chase hummingbirds;
let's run slowly.
wind 'round this back line dirt trail.
out of illusion,
into harmony;
hum with me.
i like the messy songs we make-
hide these folded letters in your socks.
we could run on words,
you know.
we could run on words.

there is an emptiness between us
that feels just like
the knot above your eyebrows
on the nights that your fingers
graze the keyboard
but words never form.

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

chew over the words we scrambled like eggs
messy in the pan
and sticky like feelings we named with firecrackers
in the winter the sun moves slower
i think my eyes think like grandmothers
a hazy hindsight
reading in a dim light
find a vase and break it
make a collage with its pieces
spill over
stain the knees of your jeans
i'm looking at a star
i'm looking for truth
i'm holding onto the hand thats holding on to you
i love you
i love him more
i love you
and he loves you more

stand with me on the outskirts of terranea
watch the waves mount higher and higher
like the passion of a crowd, crying out at indignation
watch the moon get brighter
let's sing the crescendo con anima
let's mean every word
write poetry along my veins
spell conviction with your soul
i want your toes to dance sincerity
and i want mine to know the same rhythm
walk two steps into the shore line and hold my hand
let's let our socks turn heavy with water
and our feet sink into the sand
they say "grow where you're planted"
we'll show them how to grow under waves
stand with your back straight
follow my eyes down the anciently paved roads
across letters stamped with dust

i stretch out my hand with the intention of holding what is there
whatever scars and ***** fingernails
im searching for a pulse
your pulse
im counting breaths for our turn to jump

swim
kick out your feet and grab water like stone
don't wait for me
we are both moving across the same line
follow the stream of the moon
know that we both reflect too
you, me and i, you
we have forgotten fear
we have made bridges with ideas
we have sang choruses in harmony

stand with me
on the outskirts of terranea
in space that you can not see anymore
we will be there
together
make your feet sore with walking
we are both going to the same places.

i like to watch the leaves change color
just like the old woman we met
with the shabby shoes
but you don't have to seek sadness
to make the summer feel warmer
and carnival laughs sound louder,
the winter will always be cold enough
and september thunder frightening,
so remember to wear
your coat.

there are three sounds filling my ear
you hear two
there are five circles 'round your head
you know one
you are so much all inside this figure
this figure that dances-waltzes
in attentive carelessness
teach me how-
how to hear just the beat and your breath
down- helicopter chopping my composure
up- your hand leading my hip, your finger lifting my chin
up- eyes steady on each other
down, up-up. down, up-up. down, up-up.
you've always called me a better dancer,
maybe the better dancer would know it's all about the moment
you live there so well
show me how to not be swept up by worries- what might be.
teach me not to get my toes in a tangle
guide me by those even breaths...
*down, up-up. down, up-up. down, up-up. down.

some days are spent writing poetry
and others are a sum of passed hours
that you wished you could remember what words were for
and the person you used to be before
the fear set in
before you learned how to spell disappointment
some times i lay in the field
and try to replay those nameless songs
we all sang during childhood
some times i can hear a few lines
there is a tune i learned only a year ago
that has you in every chord
i think i listen to it too often
maybe not often enough
decisions look like a candle's flame
and i don't know how to still a subject
last tuesday i might have felt at peace
but then i thought i saw another piece of the puzzle
so i started to rescramble the letters
you said that i look brighter lately
but you haven't seen me in days
i'm having trouble keeping my bulbs clean
i'm having trouble seeing where this is going
i can hear you in that silly piano theme
saying something like 'you never really have to worry
you only have to watch'
some days i like to see the rainstorms
but some of the time the wind is too loud
some days i think i can only be myself sometimes
but you never thought that was true

I know I’ve left it all to wonder
and that’s no one’s fault but mine
because when you think you understand me, I’ve led to a lie
I never reveal all of what’s pressing on my mind
tiny fragments and feelings, just enough to get us by.

don’t know why I’m so afraid of letting you in
or why i hold my breath and bite the inside of my lip
I never give you enough to make you want to stay
never trusted anyone fully, just as well pushed them away.

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry
it’s all that I have left
it’s what is standing behind my broken, hesitant breath.

I’ve done it I’ve don’t it I’ve done it
two times worse and three times over
paid myself for what was written, I’ll regret it when I’m older.

just leave just leave just leave
I’m not reason enough to stay
I lie, I run, I hide and you relate to my pain

but you don’t understand and **** it you won’t ever.
turn your back on me again, I swear to god I’m not clever.
I know you don’t believe me but you can’t know like I do
you scream the same lines back at me but I know this is true.

don’t speak don’t speak don’t speak
I’m much too tired to fight.
it’s hazy like a dream with only blurry lines.
call me wrong, call me stupid, say I’m dumb and naive.
but I’ve known since the beginning what was wrong about me.

I’m sorry that you read this and I’m sorry that you care.
sorry for every time I’ll disappoint you, and the thoughts I’ll never share.

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.

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.

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.

write me up in long strings of words;
maybe someday i could inspire myself.
show me how to turn my skin inside out.
i want you to read my veins like poetry;
they are as truthful as i can be.
my lips close like the seals of envelopes
and i'm a letter lost in the mail.
keep writing me,
i promise someday i'll come through.
like a broken radio frequency,
listen for me.
4:30am,
turn the dial,


listen for me.

one
tossing and turning in my sheets
I woke you up
just to tell you to sleep
now i'm waking up sorry,  
waking up wishing,
I knew how to carry myself
on those long restless nights.  
I'm talking in my sleep,
struggling to explain like last night's dream.
and I'm waking up recalling,
the scrambled words I expelled-
rearranging the letters
to make an apology
secretly hoping
they'll take to their new meaning
could we pretended i was still sleeping?
that my unconscious mind
fell into that habit,
let fear run the ride.
could I start this right?
sunshine though the window,
coffee in a cup,
leave the dark nights behind us and
just wake up.

two*
I'll mean it more when I say I hope you slept well
speak for rest and unrest
and the things we don't tell
learn just how from the moon,
to live by the stars.  
that balance of exposure and cover
that weight on my heart.
you know I've been waking up sorry
and waking up wishing
I knew how to carry myself on those long dark nights,
wishing in the dim light I could see both choices,
wish I knew which was right.

why does it feel like drowning
to have indescribable inspiration
overpower all arrangements of letters?

an understanding is coming together,
that words will never be enough.

counting on clothes pins
how long I can stand
to see you across the fence
and not climb over,
risking the sting of the barbed wire.
I'd do it, you know.
I'd do it for you,
cut all my corners
and leave all of my things,
but you told me
'be patient, and always sing'
and I do and you listen,
and you smile so broadly.
I wait and you wave
and we live inside the folds of two page notes
we pass though the tiny holes
in the far side of the fence.

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

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.

i’m glad.
i’m sorry.
me too.
i’ve known.
i didn’t.
you don’t have to.
maybe I shouldn’t-

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.

every word you said
made me feel guilting for thinking
i  should  have  crashed  the  car  harder
i  should  have  made  it  *hurt.

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 saw indecipherable secrets in the rays of a streetlight
i wanted to know
what it was i was missing
and i, didn't answer
when you asked what i was thinking
i'm sorry,
i haven't been thinking
i've been drawing pictures in the fog of windows
but it fades too quick to finish
i don't know how it came to this
when i stopped remembering
to tell time
or to tell myself to take a breath
maybe it would fog the window again
might blow dust under the street lamp

i missed you all morning,
so while you were sleeping,
i did you a painting
of both our hands reaching
7 fingertips
were much easier drawn than crossed
but our hearts are stronger than the colors
and like them
even if our hands don't touch
the colors do
and the colors
always
will.

like the two dimes in my wallet
i counted the days i have felt lonely in my life-
only twice
maybe thats not right  
maybe all my time
today i doubted if you miss me at all
paced the room like i could walk to you
drove 'cross town like it would matter
cried like i'd feel better
do you know it scares me how much i love you?
it scares me that i love you at all
it scared me that you might always
be far away.

i think you have small holes in your fingers
from the times you're pricked by a needle
while you sew me back together.
you don't ask for any bandaids
you don't try to clean the blood
you weave in an out of my every fiber
and pull just tight enough.