Why does my heart freeze up
when
 I read words you’ve written?

How is it that

I can read writing 

that makes my heart press hard to escape my ribs

But yours liquidates my blood
Until my fingers go numb?

It’s like this

You’ve got a canyon filled with knowledge

On how to hurt

You’ve got a library filled with textbooks

On how to make a heart drop 

You’ve got a sky filled with rain clouds 

That drop tears you’ve inspired
into the eyes of others.

Everything you touch
is sent into a whirlwind orbit. 

You’re important

You’re dangerous

You’re vital

You are never merely an effect.
You affect me. 

Never forget that.

We’re on the cusp of adulthood and it hurts to think it all through
I feel like I just buzzed down a long narrow highway for an eternity of lifetimes in a rusty old car that I can’t figure out my feelings for.
And now I’m standing at the edge of a rocky canyon, looking down.
And holy s* I'm scared.

People keep telling me I’m a bird
But sometimes I doubt if I actually managed to grow all the feathers that are required
And oh god.
The feathers in my pillows are always whispering what-ifs about that cliff
And it makes it hard to sleep
What if… when my time here on the edge runs out… I’m not ready?
What if I can’t handle that steep free fall?

I keep getting taller
And sometimes I feel emotionally superior to other people my age.
...Until I get here.
And I’m clasped by the cold grip of fear I never imagined I'd feel.

I thought I'd run off that cliff.
I thought I'd scream through a wide open, teeth framed smile
..and jump.
But there’s so much I don’t think I understand just yet.

Theres doubt in my chest.
There’s fear in the ***** of my shoulders.
I'm constantly feeling the elephant-sized weight
Of all the decisions that could go wrong
Of all the things I can and can't control.
And sometimes I really question how much I can or should trust.

Myself. That is.

Girls push past me

Stylish combat boots

Finding basement stairs 

Tight pants, low-cut shirts

And straightened hair.

Their mascara-ed eyes scan and skip

The spot where I stand.
But I’m grateful for

The lack of acknowledgement. 

If their eyes lit up on me

I would freeze

My shoulders would scrunch

And the words they would throw

In my direction

Would meet brick wall. 

All I would reverberate

Is a hesitating smile

Accompanied by unsure eyes.
My brain just isn’t taking small talk tonight.

And I will never understand 

Why cursory conversation

Slaps me in the face
like a 
20 step algebraic equation.

The truth is:

I don’t care what you thought of that math test

I wanna know what you think 
of trees in the fall.

I don’t care what your tweet was about.

I wanna know why you 
were on twitter
at 4 am

on a school night.

I don’t care how your boyfriend is.
I wanna know where you stand with god. 

I don’t care
where you got your dress,

how much you studied,

or if you dyed your hair.

What makes you cry at night?

Have you ever felt insane?

Do you believe in soul mates? 

What do you think about the moon?

Which song are you embarrassed to know all the words to?
And do you ever worry that your mom isn’t proud of you?

I just find that

It’s so much easier

To talk to people

When they’re actually

saying something.

You’re like blood

Running vertical down my arms

You’re like mud

Caked over hip bones 

Swirling down the drain

With gurgles and moans

Whispering the ***** sins

That put you there

As I turn clockwise

In the shower

Letting the anxiety rise

Until it bubbles over 

And washes away

Like an old lover.

Like you, down the drain.

No longer molding my body

Or kissing my mind. 

But I know you’ll be back

Because you build up

Like dirt in my skin

Or blood in my veins 

All the same, yet one of a kind.

Because there’s something

Awfully 

Romantically

Addictive

About the slight of your hand

That lovingly cuts me open.

what can I do to be good enough for you?

i’ll drop the pounds

i’ll wear the makeup

i’ll get the grades

i’ll force the laugh

but then

when you are left 

with this distorted image 
of a human being

who’s twisted and broken

crinkling at the edges 
and burning up

from the inside out
please don’t sneer 
in disgust.
when everything’s rolling together

and coming to a close

and you let me catch you

by the ends of your fingertips 

don’t flinch

from the artificial thing I became
for the sake
of winning you.

but mostly
what makes my mind
veer off track at night
is the fear of you changing
leaving me
dried up mud
crumbling in the cracks
of your sneakers.
i’m so very frightened
of the day
i am no longer enough.


and that’s what f-cking ***** right now.


because I’ve always tried
to push fear back down my throat
like sour bile
in a mini puke.
i’ve always wanted
to desensitize myself
because EMOTION
IS A SYMPTOM
OF WEAKNESS.
And so i’ve aspired
to be quartz
with cracks that don’t break open.


but i’m just here.

i'm watercolor floral patterns
on chipped porcelain.
and there is nothing i can do
to exist more unflinchingly

a product of human error
just like all the rest
tugged along by oxytocin handcuffs
a slave to serotonin
a slave to that which makes me feel.

and it frustrates me that I can be so pathetically human.
and I am grinding my teeth  
with each word of this
cliché.
idiotic.
diluted.
love poem.
i am trembling with the injustice
i am shaking with the question:
why can’t i be the exception?
why can't i be charcoal?
In the herd of sheep
too caught up
in being loved
to save themselves
from being left.

Watching you struggle
Is like clenching your hair
In gentle fistfuls
Trying to keep your lolling head still
While you kneel in front of a toilet.

Puking.

With each lurch farther
into the depths of the bowl
You release a stifled noise
Whimpering like a hurt puppy.
It makes me want to rewind time
And swipe that last shot glass
Away from your giggly mouth.

But I can’t do that.
I can barely offer comfort
All I can do is be practical.
All I can do is make sure
***** doesn’t get in your hair.

As the toilet water rises with bile
My emotions push my common sense.
But my feelings don’t matter.
I can feel whatever I want
In the long run
I can’t do anything.
But keep holding your hair.

I can’t do anything.
But sweep back your hair.
Away from your cheekbones
Like curtains
Revealing a show.

I can’t do anything.
But watch the show.
Mesmerized with
The arching of your neck
And the convulsions of your back.

All I can do

Is stare at your back

And hold your hair.

(I’m so sorry
I just want
to hold your face
in my hands
Please forgive me)


All I can do
Is hold your hair

Alone moving 60 miles per hour 

windows up

heat turned up 

stifled like a wool turtleneck.

Bass guitar and vocal harmonies 

stirring through the speakers

And the sunset a velvety blue 

The horizon softly glowing green

a glimmering silver bubble

Suspended center stage. 

heart so full

I swear my ribs almost disintegrated.
Swaying with the wheel

Streetlights on either side and up ahead 

Curved in rainbow paths like a child’s drawing


in the smallest part of my eye
there’s a flag swimming against the sky
And within the stagnant confines of my car
The fluid beauty of its movement
Presses emotion like a ball against my throat 
Until I cant breathe from love of the moment

so I cry.