Third time's the charm
and you've only ripped my heart out
twice

Let me drink the poison
one more time

The first time I was quenching my thirst
with salt water
in hopes the wounds
would heal
and then I swallowed the sea
because my sailor
would not look at me

The next time
I closed my eyes
at the sight of the waves coming
so I cannot blame you
for pulling me under

I will stay afloat this time
unless your anchor has grown
and you still find a way
to drown me
in the tears I created

I won't know until I try

I wish my heart
was more willing to lead
because my brain has a voice
that projects like my own
and I am trying my hardest
to drown it out
with love songs

I am the sun
that your petals turn towards
when it is warm enough
for you to blossom

I am the rain
that you soak up and crave
in times of positivity droughts
and purposeful dehydration

I am afraid
to deny you what you need
in fear that I will be the cause
of your untimely death

I am reminded
that one must be without water
to appreciate the rain
and experience days of darkness
to fall in love with the sun

For this reason,
I do not move under the moonlight
when you require daybreak
even though my body
so desperately wants to burn

As the morning mist sprayed against my face
my mind splashed through puddles of memories
from a time when we came as an unfastened pair

The depths of my eyes saw darkness,
playing backwards the night you kissed me
in an effort to peacefully disturb my soft sleep on your hard sofa

Your arms squeezed me closer when I shivered
from the coldness of the air and your heart
but my soul started to melt, nonetheless

I stared at you in anger and betrayal
as you smiled at a virtual girl
whose name still twists my stomach into knots

The sunset surrounded us when we walked
in a way that felt like nothing could go wrong
because the air was crisp, and your voice was clear

You rolled your eyes at my decision to dress for rain
but kept moving forward
in an attempt to tell me that you wished you cared more

I didn't tell you why I was upset that night
until six months later when the weight of your body
suddenly seemed too much to bear

Even after you move,
your muscles still turn
the steering wheeling
to your old house
and you tell your brain
that the movements are wrong
but still you do it,
in case you drive back
to what used to be
and find
that it is still yours

I fight with my hands
so they do not begin
to trace deep rivers on my stomach
that always lead to my hipbone basin

I flex my palms
and admire how my knuckles protrude
when I relax them again

My cheek bones can be felt
with a light pressure
and everlasting insecurity
but my chin never thins
quite the way I want

I pull my hair elastic forward
so that it sits right before
my perfect wrists

I admire my knees
as I sit in a tight skirt,
eyes trailing upward,
smile getting smaller,
thighs getting bigger

I tell myself I am better
and then I am alone