please don't change the subject
when  tell you something
i wouldn't tell anyone else
like:
i feel so alone
i can't find my meaning
i'm not really going anywhere
i'm lost
i'm scared
i'm so **** exhausted but i sleep just fine

you just tell me
"huh, that *****,"
or
"it could be worse. everyone feels like that,"
that doesn't make it any easier
i want to scream
you tell me to trust you
and get mad when i say i can't
but you make it so **** hard
when i can tell you don't care.

sometimes i still feel like i wont ever
be good enough
to be loved
or trusted
or even
important.
and i'm so scared.

i hope when that song comes on
your lips curl up before they curl down

i hope when the first note registers your remember happy moments
the long runs in autumn
the conversations held at 1 am
the days spent just lazing in each other's company
the unforgettable concerts

and i hope that when the second note registers,
your stomach drops and your heart soars up in your throat

i hope a lump like a coal forms in your throat
and salt water rivers course down your face

i hope i ruin all of your favorite songs

i hope it burns you when i leave

i'm tired
and i deserve better.

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

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 am nothing but these words scratched on paper
and the golden strands of hair that lie in forgotten places that i haven’t seen in ages.
i am nothing but the buried impressions of footprints i took years ago
and the sweat i dripped into the ocean.
i am nothing but the warmth i breathed into the snow
and the fingerprints i left on the cold hotel window.
i am nothing but the coffee stain on the old wooden table
and the trails of meteors i’ve watched fall.
i am nothing but the dust in your lungs
and under your feet
and caught in your hair.
i am nothing
but i am everywhere

if i told you i miss you
would you say you miss me too?

would you lie
or would you tell the truth?

is it the truth
or is it the lie
that i would want to hear?

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

spinning
we all are spinning
like tops
on wooden tables
so unstable that
one breath
is all that is
needed to send us
toppling

i have become an expert in the art of deep breathing
to offset anxiety.
my heart still races like a runaway train
but i’ve learned to reconstruct the brakes
just in time to spare us the crash.
i’ve discovered that my bones are made of stone
and my skin is a thick hide
that your words can no longer puncture.
i watch as your sharp insults reflect off of me
and find their way back to you
where they embed themselves
and speed along your decay.

he sees the ocean in my eyes
ringed with sunshine (he provides)
he looks at me so steady
holds my gaze until I laugh and look away
brushes the hair from my cheek
and whispers
"you are gods perfect creation"
and I feel something in me
snap.
he is the closest I will ever get
to holiness.
if religion felt like this,
I would kneel with the best of them.

sometimes i trace my own hip bones
in the dark,
and run my fingertips over the curvature of my spine,
pretending the warmth belongs to someone else.
i speak my own name in my mind,
imagining it's syllables spoken tenderly
by a lover's tongue,
each letter dripping with sugar.
my fingertips itch for closeness,
and curl around imaginary fingers,
like wishful muscle memory.
i have so much love to give.
i have so much love to receive.

there are no pretty words
or metaphors strong enough
to do justice
the betrayal
the utter destruction of a friendship
which i have just experienced.
i feel alone in this misery.

it occurs to me that i am alone
more than not
and that maybe
it's my fault.

maybe
i push people away
maybe
i should have asked you
to stay.

i know - you always say - that i need to try
i need to reach out
i need to make plans
but plans fall through
and friendships end
and i am tired of
endings
so i've stopped creating
beginnings.

I've been alone for so long.
Does this muscle still work?
Is my heart still beating?
The true question,
I think,
is: will someone help me
figure it out?

the problem with attachment is that
it has to end.

and the stronger the connection,
the harder the end hits.

it's these thoughts that plague me
when i wonder who i was
before you:

what parts of me are really me
and which parts of me
are actually you?

will i ever be able to distinguish between the two?

Dear friend,
please hold this
where nobody can see it
and hold it gently
or I fear it may break.
you see,
I am not equipped
with the lucky ability
to think before
I fall.
Please,
keep it safe,
and return it to me
when it has learned
to listen;
when my brain has learned
to scream "NO!"
rather than whisper
"Maybe?".

all i know is that
when you're gone
i need you the most.

i guess i took you for granted.
even right when you left,
i was okay.
i was able to laugh and smile freely,
until the adrenaline ran dry
and i was still
and quiet.

it was the thought
"you will never be by my side for
longer than several days
ever again"
that lit me on fire.

i cried until i was hoarse
and even now my throat physically aches.

i didn't know missing you would hurt so bad.
i didn't know growing up would break my heart.