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1.2k · Nov 2017
i. dawn
you were the albatross

it was your hands versus mine,
it was your word versus mine,
it was us versus the world,
and it was like that,
always and forever,
forever and always

you swore
like a sailor and i swore
you were the most wonderful thing
i had ever laid eyes on,

and maybe the most confusing too

you could have called me,
told me we were
leaving,
and you know better than anyone
that i would have
thrown my whole life
into a suitcase and run
away with you

things are different now,
though, and it seems like
you’re ready to
leave,
but it’s the kind of leaving that’s
going to happen without me, without us,
without telling me

it has never, ever, ever been
my place to stop you

you aren’t much one for mercy,
and i should’ve known from the second
i met you. i learned
a lot that day, all of it about you;
i learned that your heart
beats differently
for me than for every
other person
on the planet,

and i found out that different
is not always good
with you.
freshman year, fourth-period physics, or, when and where i met the girl who would tear me apart three times over
544 · Nov 2017
una corazonada
te pusiste entre
mis costillas
este día y
te quedaste ahí
al lado derecho de
mi corazón

por siempre
por la niña que ha hecho demasiado daño a mí
(third-year spanish; this might be rough)
403 · Nov 2017
exposition
when will it hit me?
will i wake up some Sunday,
shivering —

will i hear your voice
and flinch?
341 · Nov 2017
home ii
they told me
home is where the heart is
but i, in my separation,
in my distance from this house,
made a place for myself
inside my heart
and stayed there.
it is big and bold and
there is room in it enough for everyone.
i stayed down low,
a crimson dot on the radar,
blinking back wave after wave
after blue, breaking wave.
there is a neon vacancy sign
attached to the front of my sweater.
there is room in my chest tonight.
i am at home within it.
as for the others,
i hope they are too.
it is not my business either way.
300 · Nov 2017
fight or flight
where were you when
i took flight?
all up in arms,
unarmed and disarmed,
sailing blind across the bed
(that felt like the sea)?

i took up the whole space,
or at least, i fell so that not a single
other person
could move into —
could claim —
could deprive me of —
what little space was left over.

it felt right
     for some reason i cannot find.
     in rippling covers and groaning springs.

you would have loved it.
the noise, the chaos of it all —
it had your name
all over it.

— The End —