3 AM is a time that doesn't exist to you
but I'm a night owl.
You laughed at that once
and said vampire sounded cooler
after which that Arctic Monkeys song always reminded me of you
the one on my Halloween playlist,
because it was autumn then.
It's the summer of another year now
and things may have changed
but the nights still find you asleep
and me awake with you in my thoughts.
I'm still just as confused
And your breathing's still just as steady
But something's slipped away
And I'm not sure how.
There's no one to send you middle-of-the-night texts
that jolt you awake
because I'm binge watching that show you told me about
connecting us for a second before you roll back over.
You're not religious
but I was told our paths are as predestined as the planets’ orbits
And I'm dealing with the fact our circles might be tangent
And the intersection's gone.
You're where you belong,
which is miles away, in bed,
not in my head,
and certainly not in my poems.
Come daylight you'll be gone.

I am the stain blue candy leaves on your tongue
eyeliner slightly smudged from happy tears
bubble gum that popped on your face
and bright paint stains on brown hands.
I am messy handwritten cursive
and glossy red lipstick prints.
I am singing off key and dancing in parking lots.
I am the laughter that makes your stomach ache
and I am the quickening of the heart.
I am gasping for breath
as I am the sweet smell of summer.
I am sunsets without end
and s’mores that leave chocolate on your hands.
I am not clean sheets unless they are a fort
but I am bold ink that bled onto the next page
and sometimes I am broken glass
clear but for your blood on a jagged end.
Sometimes I am sobbing on the shower floor
and exquisite pain that makes your shoulders shake.
I am fists clenched so hard your nails cut your palm,
the cold and powerful waves of a seastorm.
And I am learning that’s okay.
I am not in your box
and I am not yours to define;
I am mine.

Earth,
Geospace,
Earth-Moon System,
Inner Solar System,
Solar System,
Solar Interstellar Neighborhood/Local Interstellar Cloud,
Local Bubble,
Gould Belt,
Orion Arm,
Slightly Over Halfway to the Galactic Center of the Milky Way,
Milky Way Subgroup,
Local Group,
Local Sheet,
Local (Virgo) Supercluster,
Laniakea Supercluster,
Observable Universe,
Universe.
Boom.

A year is not that long
A day is gone in a breath
and you can barely blink in between Mondays.
Four weeks in a month,
and only twelve months this year.
A year is not that long
But a year can change everything.
365 days from now I might be asleep
In your lap at last.
My face in the crook of your neck
and my breathing is slow and deep.
There must be stars in my breath
And forgotten spells in your hair
because this moment is magic.
or maybe you’re sitting on your bed alone
turning over a letter
knowing you shouldn’t do this again
But you trace your hands over the print
Still smooth and undisturbed black
Because you were always careful not to cry
on the last thing you had left
since I never made it home to you.
Maybe you and I hug before we part in the mornings;
we do it every day but it never feels routine.
I remember a hundred times I cried to be held like this
and you squeeze me tight like you’ll never let go
And then we break apart and you smile as I pick up my coffee
because it’s so good to be together.
Or maybe you nod when people say I’m in a better place
and make jokes to crease worry out of their brows.
But at night you send messages to an inactive account
about how much you miss me
and if you could have any miracle it’d be another chance
to make me laugh again.
The messages never read “seen” anymore
Because I’m under six feet of dirt
and typing ellipses are just a memory now.
Maybe you’re worried
because you really need at least a B on that test
but I sneak up behind you with tickles
and you scream that you’ll ****** me
but I get a piggy back ride around the living room instead
Multiple choice and essay questions forgotten.
Or you’re staring at my smile
Fondly remembering how much I complained about braces
But how pretty it is (you won’t say was)
and ignoring the thick ache in your chest
imagining me pressing the shutter button
to capture a selfie
that would last longer than me.
You won’t let yourself think about
how the twinkle in those eyes
will never again exist in this world.
A year is not that long
But a year can change everything.
365 days;
Only God knows what shall come.

Growing in the greenery
you criticized my wildness.
Plucked me from my bush
and stripped me of my thorns;
On display on a mantlepiece
you said,
“There. That’s better.”
and slowly but surely
I wilted.

My mother tells me stories of when I was born
how the doctor said I looked like her (I didn't)
and my brother cried in the lobby
Listening to her, I wonder
if she had known I was born to be a warrior
would those tears still be of joy?
A warrior in training every day
to not let the pain of illness show
because we all pity a sickly little girl
but nobody loves her
I was to be taught not to beg for mercy
even though the bruises would be shaped like belt buckles tomorrow
What I learned too was
every battle in a war ends
(although they leave marks)
And when the war was in my head
in the shape of forbidden curves
and feminine guile that tainted me with love
forbidden desires of the unholy misguided
the smile could never falter
because we all pity a sickly little girl
but nobody loves her
Sickly little girl
Nobody loves her
His wandering fingers left streaks of misery on my skin
******* me he put lead in my stomach
When he asked I closed my eyes
and thought of bruises shaped like belt buckles
(don't beg for mercy!)
And said "It's okay"
I was okay after too
Ten little pills lined up on the bathroom counter worth of okay
If you say a word enough it loses meaning
It's just a funny little sound
That can smooth worry out of brows
And ease smiles into eyes
It's okay. I'm okay.
Stop saying that word! You must stop
for the meaning to come back
in the tears you finally let yourself cry
and the words you stopped stifling
the pills you threw away
Mother,
Do not waste those tears now.
These were my battles
and maybe I was born to be a warrior
But I fought to be a champion.

Silence is best for thinking, you know
Dim the lights and the dull shall glow
But too much medicine will make you ill.
Be wary what you'll hear in the still
For there's nary a truth so awful a fright
As one you didn't know you sang in the quiet.