i could fill endless pages with descriptions of places
and feelings that overwhelm me
but the idea of a continuing plot
always escapes me

i need to stitch together
these nagging, slippery thoughts
and form a coherent train of thought
with a purpose and a sense of direction
so that i know where to place my focus
and how to spend my energy
so that i can move forward
and stop looking over my shoulder
and
stop
thinking of you
thinking of you
t h i n k i n g   o f   y o u
when i need to be thinking of
my sanity
and how the two
are polar opposites

this is not a poem about love;
this is a poem about understanding.

this is a poem about how it feels to look in the mirror
and smile
and not hate myself - at all.

this is not a poem about overnight changes;
this is a poem about glacial speed.

this is a poem about how monoliths of ice carve rivers
into solid earth
over the course of a millennium.

this is not a poem about you.
this is a poem about not needing you.

this is a poem about not need you to tell me
i'm "pretty"
to know that i'm enough.

i dreamt of the most beautiful sunrise
i have ever seen
and that is how i know
i'm okay now

what do you do when you want something to happen so badly
that it makes your lungs heavy and your heart flutter?
what if you know it will never happen?*
take your time.
come to terms with the fact that it isn't realistic to hope for something that won't happen.
understand that it isn't the end of the world;
the earth will spin on and orbit the sun even if your heart is breaking,
even if it has gone off like a hand grenade inside you and the shrapnel has punctured your lungs.
be your own hero.
lay yourself down and with steady,
careful hands,
extract the jagged pieces from your damaged body and lay them in the sun.
let them sit until they have absorbed all the heat you can stand,
then cup the pieces in your hands.
close your eyes.
savor the feeling that comes from knowing that you can heal your own heart without help.
you'll need to remember how it's done -
this won't be the last time.
when you're ready, swallow your mended heart whole,
so that it rests in your stomach instead of your chest.
this way it won't be so easy to find next time.
now you need to learn to breathe easy again.
your lungs are healing.
they'll be stronger than ever now;
after all,
breathing underwater for so long makes it easier to breathe when you're standing,
whole,
on the shore.

you are the sun,
pulsing with heat and energy,
radiating heat and life into the dark.
i held darkness inside me
before i met you.
it clung with icy fingers to my bones
like the roots of a **** in a crack
on the sidewalk.
you brushed me once,
with your gentle touch,
and the dark was stripped away,
burnt, shriveled.

i   was   ignited.

i still haven't stopped burning
for you.