maybe we could go to the river?
you don't have to remember what it felt like--
sizzling against the rain.
today i am lonely,
ticking in time with a broken clock.
entering a state of breaking daylight
lingering in the middle of february,
festering,
until it burns.

i want you
i want you
i want you
a delicacy--
a vision,
my epiphany.
you are starlight;
i am a fraction of the sun
and we
burn
burn
burn
in our own catastrophic collision

1; fear will not **** you, but it can eat you alive and make your insides rot.

2;you must allow yourself to thaw before you can melt--the cold was meant to allow you to feel your own heartbeat. don't ignore it

3; you are alive, even if just barely. make sure to lift your eyes to the sun to know that it still shines even amongst the dark.

4; breathe in with your nose and out through your mouth. you are a passageway for ancestral air and you should take that responsibility seriously.

5; your blood is not special, nor is it ordinary.

6; it is only by chance that you are here. a line of perfectly timed decisions birthed you--remember why you're here.

7; look at the mountains. they were here before you and will be long after you're gone. one day you will become the air that surrounds it.

8; you can lose your footing, but don't despair. sometimes you fall into a new path and it's like breathing in clarity you've never once known.

9; listen to what you're body tells you, it knows you better than you think.

10; when everything turns to dust remember you have the ability to start over. it cannot harm you to wipe the slate clean

tuscan summers,
wearing paisley and plaid,
barefoot amongst the wildflowers.

i would wear my wedding gown
in the backyard,
with our babies growing up on the front porch.

we had free range
underneath northern, starry skies--
taking trips to the mountains.

my books would be stacked
against the ivy
that crawled up the walls.

slow mornings,
crawling like molasses
out of the rickety screen door.

i would give up modernity
just to melt in the snow,
growing like weeds through
the cracks of your bone marrow.

and we all fall down;
down
twisted tunnels of temptation,
in the depths of our own insanity.
it's easier to rip the seams of time
with our bare hands
when we see through
glassy eyes.
the revving engines of impatience,
hearing future echoes of ambulances--
mourning taste buds looking for
a drop,
to quench the thirst
of someone that can't seem to swallow enough.

i would've stood barefoot in those woods
just to kiss you--
away from the pounding sounds
of mediocre music.
my heart beat like a finale
of fireworks
every time you smiled at me.

i've discovered something sweet,
like sugared gold against my lips,
tasting like summer and sun-ripened strawberries.

we would've hung out feet,
letting them dangle over the water's edge
as if there weren't whirlpools in my chest.

we would dance on carpeted floors
tripping over each other
trying to pretend we didn't mean to.

i envisioned the possibilities,
as my throat tried to swallow down the beginnings
of everything we could be.

sticky subway stations in summer
sending lukewarm love-letters to former lovers.
the salt from your lips stuck to my skin like sweat
dripping in the city--
buzzing with the static of electricity.
i made love to myself under stormy weather
where the air tasted like change.
i've always loved the feeling more than the taste.

where does heather grow?
in the north
blossoming; under late summer skies.
it is the fire
as told in old norse
like it was spoken from the gods,
in mere whispers,
too afraid of the spark.

our bones have grown, you cut your hair
but i let mine grow--
when summer felt endless,
the days melted together
to craft a seamless blanket of
memories
made by the hands of two girls
who didn’t know how to sew.
we were not diamonds, but stones
overturned in the ocean.
but we loved like it was anything other than grime.

i built an empire on my back
and it grew like a staircase up my spin.
hunched over from the weight,
i crawled on my knees until they were scraped and bloodied,
my wounds reopening amidst the battle.
"victory stands on the back of sacrifice,"
so i crawl
because i am still moving.
and when my body breaks under the strain
of the new world order
i will collapse,
but it will not be in vain.

i dream of domestication
while being nailed to the picket fence of perfection.
six figures;
i hold his hand in my right.
my reflection in the mirror is split in two
because i threw stones and ruined your view.
in my left, her hand is warm,
and we're making less than the man twenty stories up.
i've been kicked to the bottom,
but she tastes so sweet.
you see, it's bitter;
i'm two halves
and they're begging me to be whole.
call it what you want, but i'll hold them both.

oh how easy it is
to succumb
to the mercy of my own greed.
instantaneous;
like fingers flicking through
burning candle flames.
danger is right around the corner
if i turn in that direction,
leaving the car idling
while dashing on cracked pavement
making my mothers back break
a thousand times over
for a moment's taste
of chaos.

they don’t know that when church bells ring,
i am fast asleep;
dreaming of the lionesses claws
and how i screamed your name
on the day where
the river froze solid in the middle of summer.

constantly calculating the curvature of your hips,
spinning in time with the earth.
i found myself dizzy and dazed as if
you had the key that unlocked my brain.

i would not have been ashamed
if the entire world saw me
if only your heartbeat synchronized with mine.
she smiled at me
and i saw heaven in her eyes,
begging to die, so maybe we’d meet
by golden gates
with tentative hands
learning how to grasp for the first time.
we’d sin in front of god
because i’d rather burn
than keep myself caged.
i saw a false lifetime
hidden inside constellations
that showed my path to you--

but i live inside myself, merely a shell
and would not have uttered a word
unless you had
grabbed me by the hand
and asked me to dance;
i would’ve burned for a lifetime with you.