the early morning silence is good for me

i usually miss out on the sunrise,
but when i don't, i let myself soak in it

my fingers prune under the rays of a sun unreleased

this in-between --
the not quite day, but not quite night --
sets my world in motion

time stands still and life forms inside my window pane

bliss in a 5:30AM lilac sky

the early morning silence is good for me

"i love you" is hollowing
three words aren't enough for me
(they were until my brain ate them whole. now they echo inside my ears, bounce around until my head has had its fill)
tell me i'm better than the others
tell me you haven't come close to loving another soul the way you love mine
tell me that you weren't functioning
that you were a clock without hands
time flew by in the wrong direction and the numbers on your face were a dead language
until we fell together
and then you started counting in real time and loving every tick of every second

i want you to be aggressive
brand your love into the side of my skull
scar it into my collarbones
make my illness remember

i want you to carve my name into your ******* heart
i want you to grab ahold of my lungs and breathe your love into them
make sure it's the only thing i know
send it flooding through my bloodstream
i need my illness to remember

when i'm like this,
don't tell me you ******* love me
your skin is made of cellophane
i can show you exactly where the lie is coming from
my own head can't take care of me,
how could you?
tell me you'd cut off your hands if they couldn't hold mine
tell me you'd wiggle your way into my ribcage if you could
just so you could be closer to the beat of my heart
tell me you love me and make my illness believe it

my rationality is a house drenched in gasoline --
my emotions are a handful of stricken matches --
i hold them delicately between my fingers,
try to wave out the flames,
blow them out one by one --
but the embers catch on the curtains.
the house goes up in flames;
it burns to the ground;
the ash scars the earth and i can't breathe again --

and why stop there?
why burn down a single house when i'd devour a whole village if you asked?
my emotions can be dynamite; they're a nuclear blast;
set me off and watch the world turn to dust
i'm doing it for you
my flames are engulfing the planet
for you
they're my reactions to the small things;
they're the clench of my jaw when you send short texts,
they're the shaking of my fingers when your shoulders don't curve around mine
the conclusion of my analysis on your body decides whether or not the world will go to sleep in bursts of red and orange

my spine is in a pool at my feet;
my frame has melted and my heart is on the loose
smoke is slithering down my throat
i'm sorry i am the way i am --
i'm sorry i'm clumsy with fire;
i'm sorry this house was built with popsicle sticks;
i'm sorry that it's so easy to watch me burn

i put my eggs on the bottom of all my groceries.
i did it last time, and i'll do it again,
and i'll still act shocked when i open the carton and they've fallen apart.
i'll watch devastatingly as the yolk slips through my fingers;
i'll mourn for the money lost, mourn for the eggshells on my kitchen counter.

breakfast is the healthiest meal of the day, and mine is spread across my kitchen floor.
everyone walks on eggshells around me,
but i stomp on them.
i pour bacon grease on my legs;
the burn feels good for thirty minutes,
but the blisters become unbearable at thirty-one.

i didn't just spill the milk;
i poked a hole in the carton.
i watched it leak through, like blood seeping through a bandage;
i'm crying over spilled milk.
i'm always crying over spilled milk.

i want to grow out of this never ending stage of self sabotage;
i am the victim,
i am always the victim;
the child cries wolf and no one in town cares anymore;
the wolf can't be found,
because the child has swallowed it.

i am no good.
my kitchen is a mess,
i don't eat breakfast,
and i play the victim card like it's the only one left in the deck.
my groceries are in the dumpster out back;
i'm ravenous --
i'll eat you out of house and home.

MY ALPHABET CONSISTS ONLY OF VOWELS /
A, E, I, O, U --
AND SOMETIMES Y.

VOWELS ARE THE MEAT OF ALL MY WORDS /
I WRITE LOVE NOTES THROUGH THE HEFTIEST LETTERS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE

A --
A IS FOR ALWAYS /
ALWAYS YOU WILL HAVE ME /
AND I WILL ADMIRE YOU /
ALWAYS

E --
E IS FOR ENOUGH /
EVERYONE MAKES ME FEEL /
EXPENDABLE /
EXCEPT FOR YOU

I --
I IS FOR I /
I DON'T DESERVE YOU /
I DON'T, EVEN IF YOU /
INSIST I DO

O --
O IS FOR ODDITY /
ON THIS PLANE WE SHOULD NOT EXIST /
OTHERWORLDLY /
OH, LOVE, WE ARE /
ON ANOTHER PLANET


U --
U IS FOR YOU /
YOU ARE THE SUN /
YOU ARE THE STARS /
UBIQUITOUS /
YOU ARE EVERYWHERE /
UNDER YOU I SHINE

SOMETIMES Y --
Y IS A VOWEL ON DAYS WHEN I AM NOT OKAY /
Y IS FOR WHY /
WHY DO YOU WANT THIS?
WHY ARE YOU HERE?
YOU, LOVE, ARE GOLDEN /
WHY HAVE YOU CHOSEN ME?

YOU ARE A FORTUNE /
i sat down with a teller
i told her to read me
she saw you in my dreams
she saw you standing in the doorway of my desires
your face was in all of my cards

YOU, LIKE THE UNIVERSE /
simply happened
i stumbled across you on my way home
and realized that i was meant to be going in your direction all along
followed you like a compass
off-road, into the trees
you radiate warmth and i'm drowning in it
home

I AM NOT A CHAMPION /
you are not a prize i won fairly
(unworthy,
unworthy,
unworthy)
i don't deserve this
but god, if it isn't everything i want

there's a hole inside of me /
and it's shaped like you /
it curves around your frame /
it was made for your body only

the lock in my ribcage knew --
a long time before i did --
that you were the only key /
i'm scared that once you've unlocked it /
you'll see why the handle has been dusty for so long /
and you'll shut me right back up /
board up the doors /
and leave me writhing

I AM ONLY TOUCHED BY YOU /
MY RIBS HAVE BEEN WAITING SO LONG /
FOR SOMEONE TO PRY THEIR WAY INSIDE

MY SPINE GROWS STRONGER BY THE DAY /
I THOUGHT I FELT IT CRACKING

THESE HANDS WERE MADE TO HOLD YOURS /
THE SMALL BONES INSIDE
FUSE

MY KNEECAPS SHAKE LIKE AN ADDICT /
YOU'RE THE EARTHQUAKE IN MY LEGS

YOU TAKE THE ARMS /
I'LL TAKE THE LEGS /
THROW THIS BODY OVERBOARD /
I DIDN'T WANT IT ANYWAY

YOU, LIKE THE OCEAN /
are going to swallow me whole

LIKE THE TIDE /
you will be drawn to the sad moonbeams in my chest /
you will rise /
higher and higher /
until my heart is in your hold /
until you've got it captive /
and then /
you will shrink away

YOU WILL RETREAT /
to the depths of the sea /
you will spit out my heart /
like a sunken ship /
or a beached whale /
leave it shriveled up on the shore /
and roll back with the waves into a place where i can't follow

YOU WILL BE BETTER WITHOUT ME /
you have always been better without me

you refresh me more than the start of a new year /
the ball drop doesn't excite me the way you do /
but i can't wait to kiss you into next year

you are more forgiving than valentines day /
you love and love even when i have nothing to give /
i hand you a deflating heart balloon /
and you tie the ribbon around your wrist anyway /
you kiss my cheek and
for a day, i live in shades of pink

you're quieter than the fourth of july /
but you shine four times brighter /
than any firework i can see from my backyard /
more beauty with less noise:
paradise embodied

halloween is scary /
and so are you, sometimes /
i fear how much i crave you /
and i trick-or-treat for your attention /
but you are safer than halloween /
i don't need to dress up /
(why would i want to be anyone else if i'm the one who has you?)
you unmask me /
there's no hiding, no costumes /
kids are laughing, the air is cold /
but you make me feel so warm

thanksgiving is a day i spend thanking /
whatever divine being decided you should walk into my life /
i celebrate you,
i toast to us

christmas is my favorite time of year /
my mom brings out candles that smell like pine and peppermint /
my dad strings cheap lights across our roof /
my sister and i fight over our stockings /
it's silly,
but before loving you,
i thought no human could make me feel as good /
as this holiday does /

you are my christmas tree and everything underneath it /
your eyes twinkle like lights, shine like stars /
there's a bow around my waist, and the tag on it reads,
"from me to you"
keep me, keep me, keep me


love, you are my favorite holiday /
i celebrate every time i see you smile

an hourglass flipped upside down;
time is ticking;
you're waiting on our expiration date

i can't let you go;
the thought of us rotting apart makes my chest ache and ache and ache;
i'm scratching the numbers off the carton

you stepped into this predicting the end;
we're disposable;
i can be replaced;
i am not worth fighting for;
not worth aching over

you accept the date that haunts me;
and i ache;
inside and out;
i hurt and hurt and hurt;
forever starts and ends with you

i want to smash this hourglass;
let the sand spill into the carpet;
i need the clocks to stop and the world to end its spinning;
i'm hungry for time and hungry for you;
i will devour whatever it takes for you to see that this is more than temporary

love,
for me /
is where it starts /
it grows from there /
or it benjamin buttons its way down /
to a lukewarm spark

i begin my descent /
upon the first hello /
upon the first charming smile /
i fall
and fall
and fall

there is no hollywood slow motion /
it is not head over heels /
it is skull crushed into pavement /
i kiss my own ankles

everyone says /
you can't possibly love someone /
as quickly as i can /
and if you beat the odds, somehow /
you can't possibly love with /
the ferocity that i do

(i am a rare breed /
my passion is feared)

i love and love /
i continue to adore /
until my affections are too much /
until the object of my desires /
decides my devotion is suffocating /
and i understand /
it does not hurt any less --
it is bone crushing devastation, i have finally hit the ground --
but i understand /
why they come and go like the rain

i dive /
headfirst into love /
headfirst into heartache

I WANT YOU TO KNOW ME /
i want you to know /
my favorite novel
i want you to know /
why my eyes light up
when i look at the ocean
i want you to know /
that when i wrap my hands around your neck
it means i want your lips on mine

I DON'T WANT YOU TO KNOW ME /
to remain liked
i must be unknowable /
to keep you next to me
i need to hide

I DON'T WANT YOU TO KNOW /
about the way that i shut down;
i break /
i shatter /
the breeze blows by /
and i put myself together again /
whiplash

I DON'T WANT YOU TO KNOW /
that my feelings hit like a hurricane /
and last half as long /
i drop,
drop,
drop /
through the floor /
through the ceiling /
where is my head?

I WANT YOU TO KNOW ME /
i want you to know that
i believe you hung the stars

I DON'T WANT YOU TO KNOW ME /
i don't want you to know that
when i'm feeling that i don't fit /
i steal those stars /
and swallow them

i want to write you the perfect poem
i want to string words together so spectacularly that you tattoo them on the inside of your eyelids
i want to write you the world, wrap these lines in a bow and leave the package on your doorstep
i want to write you the perfect poem,
but i'm an imperfect person and love,
so are you

you are the bags under my eyes
i carry you with me wherever i go
and you draw the most attention to the brightest parts of me
my under eye bags are the only cosmetics i wear daily;
you are the result of late nights of laughter and 1 AM drives home

you sopped up the spilled cherry coke in the back of my car with napkins from my glove box
i braked too hard and it spilled all over your feet
it was a quiet ride home
my knuckles were white on the steering wheel and my head a blur of apology
my favorite mop;
my messes are yours and yours will be mine and i've never been one for tidiness but i'd scrub the world clean for your smile

you are
the dent in my passenger side door,
the soreness in my muscles,
the paint stains in all of my jeans;
i can’t get rid of it, i’ll never get rid of it;
the dent gives my car character
the soreness makes my body feel real
the stains make me feel free and the jeans fit me like a glove

i like routine and you are a part of mine
text you tease you love you
wash rinse repeat

i could send you a thousand love letters
i’ll keep them in a shoebox instead

i'll write your name into the stars,
i'll carve my love for you in the moon,
print it on postcards,
press it into my skin
but i cannot write you the perfect poem

DEAR HAPPINESS //
you raised me from birth in your light
you never left me; i sit in your glow; a smile stretches on my face
i have always felt so warm

DEAR HAPPINESS //
i wish to know you
we have never met, but i've heard the greatest things about you
i want to feel you on my skin, but i'm afraid i cannot feel you beneath my scales

DEAR HAPPINESS //
i can count on you always in the corner of my brain
watching over me
you shine on me; i know nothing other than your grin
i will always be this warm

DEAR HAPPINESS //
i've been looking for you
seeking you out like you're a prize to be won
you are the riches that are lost at sea
i do not know you
but i wish i did


WHERE COULD YOU POSSIBLY BE, HAPPINESS?
WHAT IS THE SECRET TO KNOWING YOU?
I WISH YOU WOULD WRITE ME BACK

HAPPINESS, I AM SO GLAD TO KNOW YOU
MY CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND
I WEAR YOU LIKE A SLEEVE
WE ARE UNBREAKABLE

DEAR HAPPINESS //
I FEEL LIKE IN A PAST LIFE, WE WERE FRIENDS

i wonder if the need to talk about myself comes from the stars;
narcissism is a common trait in all three of my signs,
taurus, leo, and scorpio;
or it could be the fact that i'm an artist;
a person who tells their own story over and over through means of different media.
i've always said that artists are narcissists,
we come built with an inherent fixation on ourselves,
an insatiable desire to fill the world with us;
we need to be seen, need to be heard, need to be felt.
but i'm not so sure if that's it.
artists, we want to be known for our work;
i want that, and i want to be known for me.
i want to be thought of when i'm not around,
i want someone to hear something and think of my face.
i want to talk someone's ear off.

i live my whole life in a jar;
i don't speak much,
and i'm often too quiet to be heard from behind the glass.
can the world be about me, for a minute?

i can't control how people see me inside this jar,
i can't control the weather,
or the future.
i have no control over anything at all;
can i explain myself?
can i explain?
can you hear me?

the day i get into college,
my mother says she is proud of me.
her eyes water;
her little girl is growing up.
my hands shake in the passenger seat.
my eyes water for different reasons.

the day i go back to therapy,
my mother says she is proud of me.
she cries again --
it's a family trait --
and holds me in her arms.
i wonder how she could ever be proud of a child who is scared of recovery;
a child whose only discernible feature is the anxiety rocking in their chest.

the day i move into college,
my mother says she is proud of me.
she says it's a big step forward.
she appreciates that i'm taking a step out of my comfort zone.
i want to tell her that it's my comfort zone that's adapting to this new place,
not me.
my comfort zone is nervousness and never-ending panic;
it's just searching for new things to worry about.
goodbye is so hard.

i spend my first few weeks of college in a panic induced state;
weeks blur into one another and i stay in my dorm whenever possible.
i skip meals,
because the cafeteria is a long walk across thin ice.
everyone's staring at me,
this obese baby deer,
learning how to walk on legs that are too meek.
i sometimes call my mother in tears;
she says she is proud of me.
it's so refreshing to hear that it hurts.
there are wounds beneath my elbow where i took out the rattling of my bones during a meltdown in my design class;
they itch underneath the bandaids as she reassures me:
she's proud of me.

i can only imagine the look on her face if she sees what i've done to myself,
the seven shallow scars underneath my elbow.
i haven't done that in years.
will she pull me out of school?
realize the pressures of living is too heavy for me to wear right now?
too heavy for me in five years?
too heavy forever?
the word proud is lost on her lips;
replaced by the word sorry.
how could she ever be proud of a child who can't make phone calls without crying at least twice?
how could she ever be proud of a child who hyperventilates when a cafeteria worker scolds them for not using tongs?
how could she ever be proud of a child who found a frenzied comfort in a blade?
mama, are you proud?

you've knocked me off the counter;
i've spilled onto the kitchen floor;
you've stepped in it now, stepped on me;
your sock is wet, your feet are cold, you slip in the mess i have made

paper towels don't work, and neither do real ones;
i am not a disaster easily cleaned;
i linger;
you will try to pick me up but i will stay;
i seep into the floorboards, make home in the tile;
i will live underneath until all the wood rots

i will mold your home from the inside out;
i will eat your walls, stain your ceilings;
you knocked me over,
so i dripped into the cracks and crevices of your home;
i will cling onto you for as long as i can

loving you in twelve year old cars
soft kisses in the front seats
a dent in the passenger side door
your backpack in the back seat

paint lingering underneath fingernails
achy joints
i love art
does art love me?

my friends are all ghosts
i see them
we laugh and we love
illusions shatter after too long

i drive you home at 1 AM
i can barely keep my eyes open on the way home
your love is thrumming through my body
and my gaslight is on

i get a little bit reckless when i’m on the road alone
breathing is just easier with one hand on the steering wheel
in, out. in, out.
this year is hard

i’m up to my neck in responsibilities
is this what growing up is like?
i want to sit down
close my eyes

planes fly above me and i feel a sense of longing
i’m already made of metal
wind me up and watch me go
i’m ready to fly

i have never felt heavier
my head weighs a ton and my neck is made of straw
i want to live in between the bricks
i want to go home

pour me into a glass;
tall, still, and skinny;
i'll hold my breath to stay narrow;
and i'll keep quiet;
no rippling of the tide;
no flow of the river inside of my chest;
i serve as the perfect mirror;
put me in front of whoever you want me to be

i take shape of any container you put me in, baby;
pour me from one bowl to another;
ladle me into the grave you dug for me;
bottle me up and keep me in the cellar;
anything you want, i am glad to be;
i'll distort myself to be what you need

magnets for misery melted into mouths,
molded lips made for malaise

the heavyhearted rock in between hips,
hot and hopeless

loneliness lives in lungs
the listless leaping of laborious breaths,
lugubrious lusting

souls ****** sadness,
**** songs of sorrow
somber little slapper
sleeps next to something sonorous,
slow sinking

let me cool you down;
take a dip on a hot summer day;
dive in, use my body as you wish;
swallow me from the glass you've got pressed to your mouth;
what a dream, it is;
use me, baby,
take what you need;
invade me

breaking bones
grinding them to dust
let your skin shrivel
let the sun soak it up
you belong to the ground
your heartbeat,
your spine,
your stomach
girls like you don't stay above ground for long
it's time to go home
lay in the dirt
no pain, all peace
the earth misses your breath
swallow fallen teeth
and sink

you were just a boy -
teeth glistening, cheeks aching -
rehearsed politeness and combed hair --
poise and dignity,
an air of confidence circles you like a shark

phony boy,
made from cellophane;
talk a big game, go home and write lines you'll never say

you stay awake -
you don't really have a choice -
remodel your town, make it the place you long for it to be;
remodel yourself --
carve yourself from marble, aluminum boy

they used to call you adonis;
now, they call you nothing
you were only a boy

my english teacher asked me
to write a poem for a young author contest
she likes my writing
and thinks i could win

i wonder how to tell her that i can only write poems when my emotions are on high
my hands only know how to speak when i am spitting fire
the only time my claws come out and carve words into trees
is when my eyes leak venom and my jaw is unhinged

i can’t write poems about fall without ******* the life out of the season
i bite into the beauty and leave it bone dry
the leaves from the trees are not leaves,
they’re the burdens i place on my friends when my brain changes color

i can write about love; god knows i can write about love
i’ll write ten pages on the heaviness that it leaves on my chest
the pressure on my lungs makes it hard to breathe but my god is it addicting
the love that falls from my fingertips is real, it is intense, it is too much for anyone to see

poetry is not my passion
it is first and foremost a coping mechanism
my head is a ship in a bottle
i only crack it open when i start to drown