trauma is stored in places
I do not have access to
in places hidden deep down
beneath the cement walls
where a single padlock key
can unlock what the grim reaper
is hiding, holding his scythe
waiting for me to stop breathing

it's funny
the way my lips move
in times of uncertainty
the way my hips sway
in times of distress
the way my fingers dance
along each finger tip
feeling one another
trying to grasp the tangible

i've tangled myself between
too many bedsheets
to not understand that
what is in front of me is "it"
that what it in front of me -
is all i've ever yearned for

i've tripped over myself
on too many sidewalk cracks
where i drew my heart
in sidewalk chalk
hoping you wouldn't step on it

i've suffocated my lungs
in too many embraces
that i have a hard time coming to my senses
and differentiating
between
manipulation
or love

i've been let down too many times
that my fingers
and toes
can't keep track anymore

what does it feel like to be held
not by another body
not by a set of limbs, a chest, a chin
but
by another soul

what does it feel like
to see truth in another pair of eyes
instead of hidden intentions
instead of absence

what does it feel like
to hear a familiar heartbeat
resounding next to your own
reaching through skin
through bone
two rhythms
indistinguishable

what does it feel like
to write poems about
a love that exists

i feel sick
in my mind
thinking about all the burdens
i have put
on the people i love
most

a trigger of emotions
coming out of left field
a field goal
from behind the starting line

a broken toe on a ballerinas foot
after spending years practicing

one slip up
one moment
one word

can shake it all
can rupture the volcano

at least it doesn't always last for this long

like scraping melted gum off a set of bleachers  
in the middle of a summer in Kansas
peeling back the layers of so many years of damage,
irreparable
in my mind i am a child
running circles around who i am today
laughing and poking fun
at all the wounds on my body
i thought they were pretty once
sometimes they seem like distant memories
sometimes they seem like all i can see
sometimes they are all i can think of

i am wounded
i am laughing
at
myself

together
like the softest dance
the sweetest movements
swaying back and forth
creating space for one another
walking through fire and water
jumping through hurdles
running through glass with bare feet
confronting fears
and hiding emotions

this feeling
of contradiction
confusion
frustration
but
love
understanding
calmness

a dance i cannot follow
a dance my feet are unfamiliar with

i've never really thought about it like this

I have kissed boys

Girls

People in between

But lately I have been kissing bottles

Their lips are colder than yours

But slowly I have realized that the pounding headache when I wake is less hurtful than the shattering in my chest

Yet as these toxins rush through my veins

I can't help but miss the tracing of your fingers along my skin

Miss the numbness of the world when you lie with me

But when I wake I remember that a headache is treated with an aspirin

While heartache

Well if you have a cure for Heartache let me know