even though you're drunk
and i'm leaving
(apparently over you but
the songs that play beg to differ)
your regret still stings me.
i can't see you but i know
you're picturing my body
and it hurts
my mouth burns with your aftertaste.

your passion is a mountain i've climbed
time after time
but i can't make it to the top
your desire is elusive
it slips through my fingers before i can think to grab on
i want to study your design like an architect
but your lips take hold of me
and i forget my purpose
we venture, nervously, but willingly
far from home
with a sleepy, silent return
the line between brave and utterly stupid
has been erased
so we're living on a diet of syndicated jokes
and liquid courage
to the point where none of it seems real enough to comprehend
where the honesty is almost trite
where i can't tell if you're afraid or sad
or happy, or maybe you just don't care
or maybe you're too afraid to care
because you know that i'll be missing the feeling of you beside me
that security of your body in the crowd of my thoughts
i haven't gone far enough to miss you yet
but i already pine for you when i sleep
the great wall of your shoulders makes me feel safe
the map of your skin guides my need
but in your world, i feel like a little girl
trying to convince kings to raze cities

her hands are calloused and scarred
from reaching too fast
and hitting all the hard places.
her voice is brightly hoarse and beautifully pained
from singing too loudly
like the tree frogs after a rain storm.
her skin twists and softens
like a stream with the smoothest stones at the bottom.
her face smiles like the moon in summer
and cries like the withered leaves shivering in the cold of winter.
her eyes match the color of the sky when it holds the stars between its fingers.
and sometimes, when the sunlight touches her hair just right, it mirrors the bark of ancient trees.
her wisdom is young.
her love has been murdered,
yet her smile holds the secrets of naive infatuation.
is she a child, or is she a ghost?
is she afraid, or is she jaded?
her body has been thrown from the sky,
yet her bones have never been broken.
she will always know pain
and laugh as it passes under her feet.

with jealousy,
the water memorizes the embezzled sky
and copies it with every spark.
the insects have awoken
rising from their grasses and bark.
with a pulsating surge,
the night breathes.
smitten with the silence, the birds
are sighing, killing the quiet.
this is where the night lives,
this is where it waits.
with the joy of a child, the twilight
bursts across the horizon
killing the fear of darkness.
wildflower fumes intoxicate the air,
vanquishing inhibitions and disguising them
for romance.
the night is wild with static,
but there's nothing to fear.

with everything that's happened
i hold this still to be true
i am like a tree
steady and strong
vulnerable and sad in the winter
my imperfections exposed
i drink too much coffee
i drink too much wine
i shiver and shake and let the wind push me around
and when the sun comes out
there's a strength that shines down on me
so that i can bloom and give and thrive
and you would never know the pain i've suffered
even if you chop me down
every bit of me has life and purpose
you can use me to mold and create
i will not cry, i will not mourn my own demise
for i have not yet met any such thing
i am like the house the tree created
unwavering, immobile but without roots
overflowing with memory
overwhelmed with nostalgia
anyone under my roof has become my brother
everyone who sits at my table is my mother
the world grows and crumbles around me
and i slowly decay in my own time
silently strong, i let them decorate me
they carry my comfort as their own
and i smile as they use me to the bone
i am like the operating table
i am like the flower that opens to the moonlight
i am like the paper upon which they document their dreams
all of these things provide strength through the darkness
i cannot falter

i heard you whisper
when you thought i was asleep

we had allowed our minds to get away from us
the insomniac's insanity
somehow kept us awake for hours upon miles
the elements pushing us along the pavement

but when the sun went down, you turned off the radio
and you told me that we were the music
so we lost our voices to the wind

in the morning, even the warmth of day couldn't move us from the sheets
the two of us
drifting and dancing in conscious dreams

and in the moment
your words were safe to flow past the dam of your teeth
you thought i was asleep

and your heart softly burst beside me
simply and dangerously
i tried my hardest to keep still
the rhythm of my breath like a swing

but i heard what you said
and even though you could blame it on the delirious ramblings
of a mind lost in space
i know you secretly wanted me to hear it

after the sweat has dried
and the sighs have lost their breath
she waits for him to look away
so that she can watch him think
and somehow find her way
through his maze
as the world turns around them
she stumbles, dizzy

vertigo has set in

like the second hand, she spins
like a candle flame, he flickers
wherever they roam,
they always remain