freckles splattered across your face like constellations in the night sky
earrings sparkling when the sun hits it just right
hands ruffling your hair after a swim
diving in knowing you're going to win
racing everyone in front of you and beating them
receiving your medals one by one
knowing that there are many more to come
aura of confidence making you glow
you truly are my diego

What do I have to do
For you
To feel like
I’m good enough?

Why
Do I have to
Prove
To you
My worth?

Who are you to judge?
Why am I still striving for your approval?

When I know
The truth is
I will never be good enough
In your eyes

But in mine
I am good enough

…

Just
The kind of good enough
That can be better

The kind of good enough
That isn’t
As good as other people

The kind of good enough
That isn’t

Good enough

Spring, cherished maiden ambivalent:
three parts rain, one part intemp'rate sun.
Show sympathy for clouded, rueful weather -
and let her weep 'til she, at last, is done

for there is no permanence in her grief.
She's winter's lover, moreso summer's child:
clutching daisy chains like bespoke rosaries,
new petalled life retrieves her golden smile.

death
you have stolen joy
and spent the change in her pockets
that you ripped from her body
after using her for a fortnight and a day.

death, you are too cruel.
i would treat you with respect,
if it lessened her pain.

death, why do you distort love
death, why do you take us away from our families and then destroy our memorials, destroy our families
you have become a monster,
were you always a monster and they just didn't notice

death, i have no words to rebuke you
instead i have too many, too few emotions
everything is clouded and
you have broken the wind's path
that might've cleared away our pain

death, i am stagnating
i am withering and you are proud of my degenerate state
you strip humanity, leave it raw and naked
no safety, for you are all endings
and you are the cruelest, not the kindest ending

He jokes that we'd argue over bedsides
We'd live in hipsterville &
I'd bike everywhere &
douse myself in patchouli each morning

He giggles at the thought of us
Dancing in our white-walled apt &
the wine spilling over our glasses &
the dog ******* in the tub

What a crazy thought--Us
Sanding our own dining table &
reading the headlines &
taking pills before breakfast

He laughs at these things
These things I've already thought

Buried under sheets alone
in wonderment
of what we could be

--
c