in her eyes are cities rising, falling; they rise once more with kings and queens, with democracy and change for the better, with heartbeats once unheard beating out sonatinas

her voice is a battlefield all its own: cries of man and beast and god, all hungry for war, but the aftertaste is bitter like olive bark and sea salt

she smells of blood when she laughs and rain when she cries (her screams feel like thunder)

her face shows what has been, but the soot on her palms hides what could be; only the fates can see it clearly

*oracles were not made for gods to love, but to keep them in their place

i don't think i've ever been fine
even though i've said i am
every day of my life

i can take starstorms from my lips
oh, watch them conquer!

an epidemic,
an infectious disease

they spread like the leaves
that gleam silver-green

like ideas.............

(this explosion will be
another nagasaki)

i can take starstorms from my lips
and they spread like the lies they are

i think i might be iphigenia.
everyone sacrifices me
for the "greater good".

he is
silent
in
his
grief

and you
are
more like
the
sounds
between
his
words

please, leave me here.
let me drown in your silence.

i saw you
the other day.

walking downtown,
laughing at your dog
as she lunged for pigeons
too stupid to run.

and i thought, oh.

i don't have wings,
but when it comes to you
i've always been
too stupid
to run.

i'm the flint. you're the match.
let's burn this forest down.

those who mean well
cannot stand in our way.

THERE IS LIVING
AND THERE IS DYING

AND I THINK THE FIRST
INFINITELY MORE PAINFUL
THAN THE LAST

lights and dreams float
beneath her feet

as she watches
the boats and bridges,

as she breathes
air heavy with life

no wind can shake
this skyscraper alive

and stars cannot take
this city from the earth

nor its people
from the ground

after the sun, you reached for my hand

you said it was the moon in me
that was stronger than earth's gravity

you said if you'd created the stars
you would've put me in with gods

you said when the world ends
you'll die a sundial's shadow
without my light to paint you

flowers that shiver
grass that dies
and love that lasts

i finished this book the other day.
it had a hope-filled ending
but for me it was still a tragedy
because you weren't in it.

one.
your mouth still holds the taste of watermelon
bursting across your tongue.

two.
your hand clenches, spelling it out
because when you can't speak, you sign.

three.
you forget that i'm colorblind
and you're a rainbow. i can't see you.

four.
you tell it to my left ear: "i love you."
i smile on the right. you can't see me either.

five.
you smell like a bonfire and pen ink
because you burned all the letters i wrote.

I LOVED SO MANY PEOPLE IN SO MANY WAYS
THAT THERE WAS NOTHING LEFT FOR MYSELF

i'll ask you a question:
what starts a revolution?
injustice, suffering, pain,
or ideas, dreams, aspirations?

i'll ask you a question:
who starts a revolution?
bolivar, castro, washington
or shakespeare, cervantes, thoreau?

i'll ask you a question:
what sparks a revolution?
why, it must be clear.
the authors, artists, creators -
they start a revolution.
all the conquerors can do
is finish it.

heaven's got nothing on you, she said.

and you thought it was a compliment
but they threw you to hell.

if your mind feels like
a washing machine on high
are you insane?
or are you just
*human?

ghosts of feathers trailing dust
over old photographs of us,

and laughing clocks
ticking their own lives away

i see you in hypnotic leaves,
moving with the Sistine breeze,
unseen currents holding us
to the ideals we left behind.

i see you in colorless sky,
twisting among stars left to die,
waiting for supernovas
to swallow our minds.

i see you in hearts beating red,
in thoughts i had better left unsaid,
in faces i left in the name of love,
in sentiments i cannot unwind -

i see you in a sharp-edged dream...

all that glisters is not gold,
for the moon shines a silver
brighter than this sun.

"and you really think
that i will let you
take this from me?

"i may not be mine,
but i'm sure as hell
not yours."

i take my
alabaster
blood

and freeze it
in
the seas

use it
to
help
you
breathe

i laugh solely out of necessity.

here's how it goes:
i wrote your name on my heart
in solid black sharpie,
and i can't get it out.

maybe now i'm free
to fall in love with mysteries

I LOVED YOU EITHER TOO MUCH OR NOT ENOUGH
AND EVEN I CAN'T TELL THE DIFFERENCE.

i used to think that ceilings
were placed to protect us from the sky
but now i'm left wondering
whether they protect the sky from us

i'm not sure why
autumn smells like blood

but i do know that
the red on my hands
is not of leaves

waking up
is just as hard as
holding the sky

and i loved you like the ocean to the shore:
reaching, reaching, touching for a heartbeat -
before drawing back again, tentative.

and i missed you like the sun to the moon.
i guess we were never meant to touch.

and i forgot you like the water to the flame,
for you burned bright, once long ago,
until i turned you out and left you behind.

you walk among the suffering
and they do not know you are the cause.

you dream like the moon,

craters shattered
in light-drawn shadows,

a darker side
the world will not see

i kept trying to write out
my sadness.

it took me a long time
to realize that i couldn't
because this is not heartbreak,
or grief,
or loneliness.

there's nothing to be gained
from this kind of pain.

i'm a firework disaster
a monstrous tragedy

an essence of all the things
you hoped you'd never be

and i made myself this way
in the name of revenge

because of what you
did and didn't do

THE THING IS:
EVERYONE LEAVES.

AND I AM SO ******* TIRED
OF BEING THE ONE LEFT BROKEN
IN THEIR WAKE.

i always adjust the rearview mirror
so that i can't see myself in it.

sure, i can hold your crown.
just don't expect to get it back.

"how are you not tired of being?"
*the adrenaline of love

the worst fate is not
fighting the monster
or killing the monster
or being the monster.
no, the worst fate is
loving him.

your words slip down my throat like flat coke
sweet, cloying, leached of emotion
i do not know when you grew old
but i know that now you're just
unsatisfying

we are strangers in this world,
far from our homes in the night.

everything we touch burns.
at our core is the impossible
and it fascinates the beings we meet.

dying stars feel only peace.
human bodies are powerless against them
but they feel joygrieflovedespairmore.

we are fallen constellations
yet this backdrop of terra nova
is more beautiful than the sky.