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Gossamer Sep 2017
she is smoke
drifting, she is always drifting;
you say breathing her in hurts
but still, you inhale deeply

drifting, she is always drifting;
She disappears before you can say her name
but still, you inhale deeply
because you love her

she disappears before you can say her name
but she’ll be back again someday
because you love her
because you both can’t stay away

but she’ll be back again someday
because smoke loves the flame
because you both can’t stay away
and you love the ash in your lungs

because smoke loves the flame
you say breathing her in hurts
and you love the ash in your lungs;
she is smoke
Gossamer Jun 2016
In my dreams, I lose my teeth
and packs of wolves howl at me
I run toward them in the moonlight

And when I wake, you're lying there
I'll start to smile, I'll touch your hair
but you'll just turn away

I'll get a coffee, maybe two
whenever I go out with you
in case I start to fall asleep
in case I start to dream

In my dreams, I'm running free
across the land, between the trees
and all the wolves run with me

And in the morning, I am sore
from dreaming hard, from wanting more,
from all these chains that bind me

You say that I've been acting strange,
sleeping all of my days away,
but I'm not tired, and I'm not sleeping
I'm awake, and I am dreaming

In my dreams, they call to me
the mountaintops, the evergreens
and I hear the haunting echo of a howl;
so this is all to let you know
that when I do decide to go
it's really, truly just because of me;
it's only ever been about my dreams.
"toward greater things"
Gossamer Jan 2016
T H E  B E G I N N I N G
It's always blue skies,
glittering eyes,
red wine on our lips
when you say goodnight.

It's always new highs,
everything I think I need
to feel right inside.

T H E  I N E V I T A B L E
It's always grey skies,
white lies,
red wine on the floor
when we're fighting
for hours 'til you say
you don't love me anymore

and the door closes behind you
and I beg the sun to rise
and it's always
you who says goodbye
Gossamer Sep 2015
I grew up
reading books about
who say things like,
"You're so beautiful,"
"God, I can't believe
I've never known you
and they kiss the girl
and they fall in love
and maybe there's a struggle
somewhere in the middle
but everything is
o k a y
and in the moments after
hearing how beautiful
and wonderful
and amazing
she is,
the girl is happy,
the girl is loved,
the girl is l o v e d.

The last boy who told me I was beautiful
didn't listen
when i said
and I sobbed in my own bed
for three nights
and I couldn't touch my sheets
for five
because it takes a long time
to get blood stains out
when you use the cheap washers
in the dorms.

The last boy who told me I was amazing
left me at five in the morning
and said he'd call
and even as he looked me in the eye,
I knew he wouldn't.

The last boy who told me he liked me
said so as he tried to push my head
in a direction I didn't want it to go
and it seems
that all of these compliments
are meant to be segways
into getting something more.

These compliments
have turned into warnings,
red lights,
get out,
get out,
he only wants you
for your body
and I don't know
how I am ever supposed
to believe someone
when they actually mean it
when all I know
is sugar-coated bullets.

I am reading a book
where the boy whispers
promises between kisses
and I realize
I have never kissed anyone in
the light
and I am numb inside
and I do not want to be called
anymore because to me
that means I am
about to be shot.
Gossamer Sep 2015
She woke up under a sheet and didn't realize it right away,
but she was lying right next to regret disguised as a
beautiful liar.
Her clothes are on the floor and her head is pounding
and she remembers pushing his hand away but when
she sneaks into his bathroom while he's still passed out,
she sees the blood all over her torn underwear and it becomes
fairly clear what happened last night;
she keeps the bloodied garment only because she needs to say
there was something he didn't take from her
while her vision was blurry
and she texts her friends saying she's home and fine and just
so, so tired, but she stands in a scalding shower for an hour trying to
wash away the disgust and the blood and the bruises
and they won't go, so she tries to sleep, but she's haunted by
everything and is so angry with herself and with him and now it's
midnight again and she hasn't eaten all day and her friends think she's
thrown up seven times because she drank too much,
but the nausea came from the memories,
and now it's been a week and the bruises are yellow
but they still hurt the same
and he never texted her
and she's still bleeding
and she burned that pair of underwear
and cut her hair short
and stuffed that ****** black dress in the back of her closet
and told God she'd happily keep the bruises on her arms
and legs
and hips
and neck
if He would just heal
the ones covering her heart.
Gossamer Jun 2015
You call all the girls you mess around with "sunshine,"
but none of them light your dark spaces,
your loneliest places.

I'm there at one in the afternoon
with you and your flat tire
and then at three in the morning
with you and your ******
"i love her's,"
your groggy, slurred words
about a girl from the bar
who you won't remember
and you thank me in the morning
when I bring you water
and all you ever call me
is a friend
Gossamer May 2015
Imagine honeybees drunk on heaven.

She says, “Don’t you ever stop believing.”

Imagine thousands of stars whispering,

“You are beautiful.”

She says, “Navigating the earth is a danger

I expect you to face.”

Imagine angels passing gentle and cool at the gates.

Imagine a ragged chain of promises Imagine people

ten kilometers above the kingdoms Imagine no danger

Imagine no war Imagine Imagine Imagine.

She says, “You are ultraviolet.”
Words taken from Doerr's All The Light We Cannot See
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