i am overwhelmingly in love and it is the most peaceful yet
exhilarating feeling in the entire world. i feel like rain, a tornado, and
the sun peeking out from behind the clouds after a violent storm,
all at the same time. i am a mess of contentment and wonder.
he is all i’ve ever wanted.

an afternoon accompanied by
rushing water and rustling trees,
the scent of a spruce candle burning,
i recalled that fire is often described as
something unapologetic,
a force that burns through forests
with resilience, and power, and no inclination to look
back; this is something i’ve spent my whole life trying
to be

but i saw myself in the flame of a candle
burning in a different light,
i saw something soft, and warm, and calm
something reborn, consumed
whipping itself back and forth as the wind blows it,
dancing from side to side like an eager child
it makes no effort to keep still
it accepts the movement, the wind, the chaos
and as it lets itself go,
as the wax melts down
slowly
          slowly
                    slowly
it glows.

“you’ve changed.”

digs itself between your ribs
gripped by the hands of someone
who had already painted their portrait of you
but then you came along and sprinkled
rose-colored glitter across your cheeks
dragged sky-blue painted fingertips
down the sides of your face
exhale deeply
dust off your hands
different looks like ghosts to some;
they don’t see people as perennial flowers, ones that
bloom in the summer, but wither by winter
only to bud again as something new in the spring
they assume autumn’s mess of orange and brown is the
end—
that things cannot be reborn
so clenched fists punch holes through canvas
leaving red-glittered knuckles and
spit that looks like teardrops
without considering that maybe blue
has always been your color

lulls of silence—
wide-open meditative spaces
where everything is washed
and vacant,
stretching on into pale skies
in every direction,
void of anything
it is lonely, maddening,
a desert, my home
where i feel very small,
where there is nothing
to run towards—
they haunt me like shadows looming
on bedroom ceilings
above twin beds,
where i lie below, motionless
with a dream catcher
hanging on the wall above
my messy, braided hair and
chapped lips buried
into a pillow,
empty

everything is in boxes
in my mother’s house
in my father’s house
in the back of my trunk
different things in each of them
books and vinyl
jesus, innocence, mirrors
paintings that my little brother and sister
made for me at school
and i can’t find my journal in any of them
i didn’t used to have to tie strings
around my pinkies
to remind myself to breathe in words
i used to write too much
with ink smears tattooed on the
side of my left hand
i carried it around
******* on my fingers
tasting the poetry drip
from my mouth like sticky mango juice
and people read it
and my muses hated me
and i didn’t even have to try

Once you meet someone like him, there is no going back.
Once you meet someone like him, you don’t want anyone else.
You want the fire that burns in his soul
And the adventure that stirs in his heart.
You want the passion that he has for seeing the world
And the grace he has toward nature…
You want that silly laugh of his
And his calm, brown eyes to look into yours just one more time
And show his love for you
Without even saying it.
Someone like him isn’t someone you can just let out of your grasp
Without a fight.
But I’ve fought, I’ve fought so hard…
And maybe it’s time for me to just force my grasp open and let it go.
Maybe it’s time for me to let someone fight for me.