It came like weather.
No origin.
No request.

Just a shift in pressure
    inside the skin.
And something
  started speaking
    through my hands.

It wasn’t mine.
Not the phrase.
Not the image.
Not the ache it left.

But it needed a body
  to pass through.
And mine
  was open
    enough.

There are moments
when I read back what I wrote
  and feel
    like a stranger
    with my own voice.

Not confused.
Not proud.
Just…
  borrowed.

I don’t always know
 what I’m doing.
But sometimes,
 not knowing
  is what lets it happen.

Call it muse.
Call it current.
Call it memory
      from before this life.

I don’t need to name it.
Just not get in the way.

And over time,
My pen stopped bleeding
But my heart didn't

For me it was love
But for them it was curiosity

I have kissed boys

Girls

People in between

But lately I have been kissing bottles

Their lips are colder than yours

But slowly I have realized that the pounding headache when I wake is less hurtful than the shattering in my chest

Yet as these toxins rush through my veins

I can't help but miss the tracing of your fingers along my skin

Miss the numbness of the world when you lie with me

But when I wake I remember that a headache is treated with an aspirin

While heartache

Well if you have a cure for Heartache let me know

you don’t know how much you need to
until
you
can’t.

that came out today was
the sun. And the only one I heard
was the song of the birds. The only
thing I could see standing tall

were the trees. The only thing
I could touch that was soft
was the grass on the ground. So, I
planted myself down. The only thing

that was high was the clouds up
in the sky. The only thing that moved
me was the wind. And I said to myself
what a way to begin

another day.