For all the words I've written,
I still feel as though I will die
Completely unexpressed.

Lately,
I've had you on my mind
Like an old song
You've rediscovered the beauty in,
And you've been occupying
The rooms in my head
For once without a chance
Of vacancy.

You live in the
Autumn wind,
Whispering hints of
An approaching winter
Both among the trees
And among my ribs,

And I'm left chilled
Without the warmth
Of your hand in mine,

And much like the grass
Speckled across the ground
Cold and a tiresome gray,
My chest freezes over.

the weight of all my previous selves
is perching at my back
if i look slumped, not steady
i’ll be fine, it’s just temporary
maybe. hopefully.
i feel so heavy

is there a future me ahead
or will i finally settle?
when i know me, when i’ve found myself
will it be set in stone
bricks and mortar
whispering promises of home

or do i wash away again
like mud on concrete?
if the rain pours, i slip away
but then, but then
it’s okay! because then, then
the sun shines on a stronger me beneath

so i think myself finally whole because
i can hold the weight of the world
i am concrete.
i am washed away.
i am resurfaced clean, if bruised,
a pathway for all to find steady feet

‘til the cracks in the concrete reappear
‘cause i know, i know
i’ll let you walk over me,
that somebody will plant a seed in me
the roots will shove up and up
break through me
‘til shattered but still existing is all i can be

i am constantly remaking myself,
constantly being remade.
is anybody anybody
if we’re all endlessly changed?
this sense of self i have this day
i have no faith that it’ll stay

how many drill bits to the brain
does it take to make concrete fall away?
how many new faces
‘til a man, this man, that man, the man
‘til I go insane?

when he laughs, and that tug of lips,
the smile lines of his cheeks
they spark a flutter in my chest,

a butterfly blushes at his sunflowers

all those happy sounds
that brighten the garden within me;
i can have a summer in december

and honey soft eyes drink me deep
granting me ambrosia
for a long and peaceful sleep

in his arms i feel at ease

I am aware
of all things present,
the pinch behind my eyes
the pressure in my nose
my deep, soft,
too loud–heavy–quiet breathing
(How?)
Give me back my bones
Give me back my sleep,
my dreams.
Too close, too much, not enough:
I am endlessly ending

Cry

Please let me sleep–end–cry–
somethinganythingplease

as if he knew
the peculiar pictures
behind my eyelids,
sleepless in sleep, ******* bruises
so bittersweet
to dream of you still
i hate you so much
and not at all, all at once

never trust him again
and he... he still misses me
he trusted me—he TRUSTS me
he trusts my steady quiet and
my shaking hands and
this and that of me
i missed him, i think
maybe, distractedly
but not really

only in a lie
and a liar isn’t me but
he makes me speak them so
since my honesty would hurt him
earnest and afraid, my admission:
i do not want to touch
his emotions
and so to curb the awkward truth
i missed him
and none the wiser