There’s a heat in my bones,
a driving force within. My soul
is relentless, untethered by the music
Bodies clash and the lights flash,
disorienting.
The bitter bite of ***** scorches
my throat.
I see your face in the crowd, then
step left and you are gone,
an illusion of my heart and mind,
accelerated by the night.
Step right,
into regret and fatigue.
The heaviness in my legs,
my heart. The music rushes,
picks me up,
Spin once and I remember,
this is the time to be free.

Sing to me our song again,
promise and love in the refrain,
the melody speaks of memories,
laughing, tears, sunshine, rain.
Chords clamor to be heard,
the strong undertones to carry us through.
Sing to me from across the ocean,
sing until your lungs hurt, your throat burns,
sing until I hear,
your love.

There are three freckles on my bottom lip,
cute spots of originality,
tiny, almost nonexistent.
I wanted you to notice them,
to look closely at me, see me uncloaked.
A scar rings my wrist,
a token of love from a too enthusiastic dog,
did your lips ever find it?
A ragged line splits my knee in two,
screaming a story, one of laughter and life,
your fingers never paused there, you don’t know that scar.
Tattoos yes, you’ve familiarized yourself,
Bold and black, splotches of scattered color,
you’ve seen them all.
My skin maps experience, moments of light and sorrow
the key lies in my mind, my eyes, my smile.
It’s not a puzzle fit for all,
but here I am, words on my lips and love in my mind

I thought I was drowning,
but now I realize I’ve been treading water,
sure the waves have crashed down on me, water
flooding my mouth, but my head stayed high as I bobbed.
Now I know I’m drowning,
the lights shimmer otherworldly, no longer harsh to my eyes
the water is feeling warmer, in my mouth, laying on my lungs,
the weight of anxiety and stress---and water, that I can’t expel
The sound is no longer deafening, a low hum is building in my ears and
        the black swirls around my eyes and I am…gone

I want to write a love poem, but I just can’t find the words
Each day with you is new, a rip off daily calendar
some days I laugh until I cry, other days
I’m coughing up sobs and regret
and still more I just don’t get.
I want to write a love poem, but that’s not how this works.
I can’t write of love, though it fills my days with sunshine.
Love is not so easily described, only understood if you’re in the throes of it.
People understand pain, loss, but not love,
I could say how it feels today:
love is a wild mystery, a traipse through a jungle with no map in hand.
The rain pours down, cool on my skin, refreshing
The sun rays reach me through the impossibly green canopy
I feel the strength of the trees, the hope of the green shoots,
the wild freedom of the monkeys overhead.
The rhythm lies within me and the song of the birds echoes
the song of my heart.
My love is strong, wild, and largely unexplored;
I make the path as I go on my way,
curious tourist and determined adventurer
Today my love is warmth and sun
exhilarating times and smiles wrapped into one

You steal from me,
laughter from my throat,
the smile in my eyes
you’ve stolen memories
I can’t escape the irony,
gentle rain falling,
replacing tears I could have wept
but you’ve stolen them all away
all shed for you until
I had nothing left,
my eyes dry and destitute
The silence is heavy, shrouding my ears,
settling on my shoulders
I have nothing left to give,
you’ve taken it all
over-hungry, overreaching
the scraps you yanked from the table and devoured
I have nothing left to give, no warmth or love
My heart is wrung dry, hung outside,
battered by the unwavering elements
You’d think the rain would replenish it, lend me strength
but instead I sit on the ledge
with only lingering thoughts of you to keep me warm.

“professional editing” sounds so pretentious, I know
I’ve heard the jokes before, you aren’t my latest comedian
few would call me pretentious,
weird maybe, goofy probably, energetic definitely
my major is a map to my life,
everything makes more sense to me when it’s written down
“English major” is too broad of a window,
I need the tight tunnel of editing to get me to the end,
to lead me to the light.