i think you can dilute me
in the southwest monsoon
that buries the city in july
i let the gray rainfall
choke me, drown me
until all my colors have
bled through me

i think i can dilute me
and make me easier
tolerable for you
to drink up, to love
there is nothing more i want
consume me, renew me
make me water in your hands

i think there are other people
out there, waiting for me
but i don’t want to wait for them
when i have waited so long for you
so just dilute me, **** me
let me be a chasm
and fill me up, up, up

i think you can make me
into someone you will miss

i hope you

- lick rust, get tetanus, and die
- forget your keys in the car
- step on glass, get a foot infection, and die
- get a mind-numbing toothache from 11 PM to 2 AM
- get stuck in space with your oxygen running out
- never find someone who matches your freak
- compute your GPA and realize you’re a few points away from getting Latin honors
- choke on boba
- get bitten by an unidentified venomous snake and you don’t have access to the antidote so you slowly die
- get CC’ed on a HR email before you clock off
- time travel, get stuck in the 1800s, and die from cholera
- trip on your shoelaces and land on dogshit
- never find the other sock
- are the last person alive in a zombie-filled apocalyptic wasteland
- miss me

your sweatshirt
socks
my copy of Hunger Games you spilled juice on
rain-drenched Sambas
a navy blue comforter
your backpack full of ants
my sweatshirt
thrifted sheets of music with suspicious brown spots
a couple of DVDs we washed, thinking it would make them work again
your old Nokia
a pack of cigarettes
torn-up black stockings
polaroids to make that blurred effect
me

plant your sorrows into my earth
and i will bear the sweetest fruit
the summer sun marks our rebirth
teeth bared, feline-like in her pursuit

the pain and the wonder
of loving you, of loving love
the pain and the wonder
of living life, of being alive
the pain and the wonder
of being one and many
alone in the midst of millions
in an essence -
it is painful, it is wonderful
being alive

i open my mouth
to taste the rain
and pretend that is you
i am not cold, i am not wet
i am covered in you

a tiny thing, a little cat
brings me little treasures
things she has caught
but i don't want them
i have already closed
the worn-out kitchen door

it leaves its little presents
by the doorframe
i watch her leave them
and wait for me
to arrive, to praise her
like i have done before

she sees me by the window
i see her confused little face
i turn away, close the shades
and she does not leave
and i do not leave
and i do not open the door