You held a gun to my head and called it a love letter
                                                 whispering, "I'd do anything for you
except die."
                              But you still sang for me, that night on the rooftop,
                                                                        our legs dangling off the edge
                    and  pinprick flowers cushioning our fall.
I think I understand now why some storms are named after people.
                                     You were a perfect storm. You swept me
off my feet, darling, and you never put me back, did you?
                                                                   there is a creature inside my skull
                         trying to get out what happens
if I cannot contain it as well as I should like?
                                                                The world begins and ends with you,
angel, dawn and a pearly sunrise against my throat,
                      hands clasping mine like a prayer.
Paint me in blue, stars dying all around us. This is how you will know me.
                                 This is the only way I will let myself be known.
Starved and dying and silhouetted against the rising sun.
                                                              You've seen this all before,
                              sweetheart. You've seen my neck,
my collarbones, my hips swaying like a breeze.
This is nothing new.
                                                    I'll wish on old trees and memories
and storms tearing down the earth one town at a time.
                  I feel in all the wrong ways, a thousand and one
errosions of faith
                                 Don't ask me why I do not feel like you do
Ask me how many stars are in the sky, ask me
                                            about the scar on my left cheek and
I will answer you. I will try.

We are humans in a story of gods
                        every version of me loves every version of you, and so on
          when you laugh it sounds more like sobbing but you tell me to stay here a little longer. I feel your breaths echoing in my chest.
                                I could stay like this forever.
You trace your fingers over my wrist, feeling for a pulse.
                  I don't have the heart to tell you
the truth.
                         I'm sorry about the ocean when we were twelve and the river when we were sixteen
and the ocean again when we were seventeen and we had too many dreams for our bodies.
         You smell like blood. It isn't yours, but it might as well be.
                                                                         I kiss you anyway.
You love me, but it isn't the kind of love I deserve
                                                                it's too loud, it wakes them up,
                it makes me feel too small. Here is the part where I apologize for getting blood in your hair, on your arms, spattered across your cheeks like freckles.
        I'm sorry for dying on you, but I can't help myself. I love your eyes
                I could drown in them, if I wanted to.
I could drown, if I wanted to,
                                                                but you'd never speak to me again.
You kiss me and your mouth is a slash of red. It isn't your blood, but it might as well be.
                Here is the part where you hold my body to you, let your tears mix in with the blood pooling in my stomach and around it.
        Here is the part where I don't come home.
Here is the part where every version of me loves every version of you,
                                 and so on.

Tell me about the garden again,
        tell me this is our last night on earth and you just want to know that it's real
                                tell me fairytales. Tell me
this is everything you've ever dreamed of
                 and more.
Kiss me with whiskey lips and cigarette teeth
                        kiss me like you'll never have a chance to kiss someone again. I want to feel you. I want to taste callous remarks
        on your tongue
                 give them to me, give me everything and then give me more. Sing to me
                                write me ten thousand sonnets and recite them
        ignite everything we've ever been.
                                                              This is your chance. Tell me about
                         the vines.
Tell me a thousand things, and more, and more. Drink me in, like this,
                sprawled out on your bed, laughing like it's the end of the world. We don't have much time.
                                       Let's end it all, hangman's rope and a burning will,
        or let's stay a little longer.
I want to hear your voice again. Tell me how we're ruined.
                Tell me how I'm ruining you,
                                        and how you love it.
Tell me about tomorrow.
                                                        It's the only one we have left.

i could go to the courtyard, if i wanted to.
i won't, but i'll pretend to, so i get the heady rush of possibility.
but i never told you why i love the smell of rain and you never told me why you love like rain
i guess we're even,
i guess we can't rely on karma to get by.
i think you should know that i love you, or used to love you, or will love you
i think you should know about the incisions. three over your heart and around it
and, and darling, is it too late to tell you about the fireplace? i hope not.
it's ashy and unused. we make a fine pair
you can be the puppeteer, if you want
i your perfect marionette (pale and pretty,
pearls at my throat)
your mind is racing. do you remember the cave, princess?
sorry, i know, you hate it when i call you that.
do you remember the blood on my hands? do you remember tipping my chin up, drinking it in
first the blood and then me
it was fast, but i understand. self control is a luxury
we can't all afford to be precise.
but, sweetheart, you misfired, didn't you? or didn't fire at all, meant to fire but forgot.
you don't like hospitals. you don't like orders and you don't like order
i know this. we both do.
(i know why you sit the way you do, back ramrod straight.
you're afraid of falling.)
you're afraid of your reflection
you ask me to paint you and when i'm finished
you bite your lip. "you look like your
father," i lie through my teeth
you couldn't be more different. i love this about you.
you listen to the same three albums on repeat
when i get tired of hearing them i ask you, measured
to please turn the volume down.
you turn it up,
smiling like you know a secret that i don't.
i stop asking you for things. it's okay,
this is normal.
you stopped answering me a long time ago, anyway.
when i turn to look at you, your fair hands are stained red. i do not breathe.
we stay like this, quiet and unsure
you filling the silence for me.
if you do love me, it's not in the way that everyone talks about
it's a hurricane love. this is not like breathing
it's like drowning
but you taught me to swim twelve years ago in a kiddie pool in the backyard
and i know i will never leave you. my strings are clutched too tight in your fists.
i move around but not beyond you. this is how it has always been.
when you kiss me, i taste metal on your tongue.
my mouth comes away red and i do not care
loving you is a blood sport anyway.
i will fold into you, become a bullet,
cry myself hoarse.
this is the only way i can be close to you.
i could go into the courtyard, if i wanted to, but you're there
and i don't want you to know about me.

[i'm sorry. i'm not very good at love letters. i've confessed my love to more angels than real people, but please hear me out on this.]
to the girl i ran into yesterday, with love from the girl who ran into you yesterday
i'm pretty sure i'm in love with you.
you left a handprint on my heart (a literal one;
your fingers curved over my collarbone like you were afraid you would break me)
i have cigarette butts for nerve endings
and i'm pretty sure that you must be a lit match
because i haven't felt this alive in seventeen years
please tell me you feel the same way.
i just want to feel your heart beat against mine, and i know we've only just met, i know you will probably never come to this bookstore again,
but if you say no i will pretend that this is a letter to the galaxy
(my favorite constellation is the one stretching across your shoulders;
a thousand and one stars disguised as freckles
play connect the dots with ligaments and fissures)
i will pretend that you are not the sun in my solar system
and okay, maybe i'm being overdramatic but have you ever looked into someone's eyes
and wanted to memorize every fleck of gold you see
i wrote down the things i want to know about you, a wishlist ten miles long
with nothing but your name on it
i wonder how you'd react if i held your hand in public
the sea swelling up to meet us there are wires from my heart to yours
and i know there is approximately an 86.3% chance you will never see this love letter but i wished on a star for something real
and then i ran into you
(i'm sorry again. i hope you enjoy to **** a mockingbird. it's one of my favorites.)
i hope your hair is still a preposterous shade of blue because it makes your eyes look like constellations
do you want to form a galaxy with me?
to the girl i ran into yesterday, who wore bright pink flip flops and had a tattoo of a star on her left anklebone,
i think i'm in love with you
please reply at your earliest convenience.

i'm sorry about the way i fumble for words and breath, but i just can't catch my death i mean breath
and i'm sorry if this is weird but there are some people who mean more to me than i can express using any number of adjectives
and sometimes it scares me because my body was not made to hold this many hearts
there is impossible love in my fingertips and it will bless anyone who comes near me
i'm sorry for being a dreamer i'm sorry i got so close i'm sorry for holding galaxies in my hands but i want to be just like you when i grow up
and there are supernovas whispering behind your closed eyelids.
you cannot win acceptance from expectation i know this from experience
and maybe it's okay to be a little ****** up but i'm pretty sure my heart shouldn't ache in time with people who don't exist
i'm desaturated, not colorful enough i cannot handle pure cyan or magenta but give me olive,
give me chamoisee and i will breathe a little easier
paintings come in all shapes and sizes and rainbows i painted mine on my hands and fingers
i cannot help it if my acrylics mix with other people's watercolors
this is how i am
sometimes i go up to your front door and do not knock
i hope you will forgive me for this
i'm not in the habit of wasting breath but i will waste death until i have no more seconds and minutes and hours to do so
tell me you love me there is a heart shaped box in my chest
it is sandpaper against your palmprints but you will clutch it, fingers tight
curling in and around like it's a part of you
i'm not a geometry problem that you can solve i'm more complex than that there are wires
buried beneath my skin pumping iron through my body i'm more machine than flesh
but that doesn't mean i can't feel your hand in mine
i measure time in the beats of your heartbeat against mine
you watch me like a car crash, like i'm moving in slow motion but you still can't keep up
compartmentalize your love songs and love letters and love
your heart will stop beating if you just tell it that it can't feel anymore
i am a sea of compromises this was not the first one i have had to make and it will not be the last
but i promise you that when we're dust blowing through the desert
a thousand and one lifetimes away,
i will remember every second of you
and we will be constellations sewn into the galaxy
another fairy-tale to be read at night when our fears are loudest
and i will press my fingers to your neck to show you that your heart is still beating
i am a rainbow paint me onto your blank canvas like this is the last time we'll ever see each other
i'm not scared of how i am i'm just like everybody else
it's not my fault that i have love pulsing through my body like tidal waves
paintbrushes are rough against my rocky craters but i love them just the same
i will love you just the same.

I do something strange,
If only for the attention,
Good or bad, it doesn't matter,
I just want to be noticed.

Shave half my head,
Just to draw eyes,
Tattoo my skin,
For a story to tell,
Walk with my chin up,
To make it look as though,
Maybe, I'm fine.

But being third has its perks,
Because nobody ever expects,
The shadow to fall away,
And reveal something so strong,
As dangerous as me,
As my unbridled flame.