I love you.
You make me become cotton, above
the wind, effortlessly gliding upon
rolling meadows of marigolds.

Wait

You're the cold snap before the morning
sun, always biting and freezing
loose particles of moisture in the air.

No, wait

You've brought my senses back, like rewiring
a lamp and giving it a fresh bulb, illuminating
the surrounding shadows with a smirk, smile.

Actually, wait.

You've made my mind out of confusion,
changing the pace, lying on high tide
forgetting the time we've spent out at sea.

Please wait,

I've just wanted to hang on, I miss feeling
like I'm whole again around the puzzle piece
that caught my attention. Love and wait

For me.

I found you standing there,
in the corner of a big room.
I could see in your eyes,
you were a flower ready to bloom.

You were ready to go,
ready to see the world.
You were all alone,
just another lonely girl.

Like the moon in the night sky,
so far from the stars.
You were in need of a friend,
to help heal the scars.

And so I reached out,
and you took my hand,
and we explored the high mountains,
and put our toes in the sand.

We ran through the valleys,
and flew through the sky.
We walked through the forest,
and laughed till we cried.

We looked up at the stars,
so far yet so close,
so big yet so small,
we wanted them all.

And so we became stars.

I showered last night, wiping away
What you encouraged me to do.
Did you forget? I didn't want to go.
Sweatpants rolled up to my knees,
hair flat, cuffs rolled up to my elbows.

The snow beneath my feet crunched
while I texted you. Each word filled
me with reject, each step wanted to pivot
and escape the man down the hill.
But, you said it would be good for me.

On the contrary, this tore you apart,
my love. I babysat the intoxicated man
that offered me wine, his shrill of a voice
split open my skull, quaked my brain
and stabbed my frontal lobe, unaware.

His height represented my will and want
to walk this distance and meet him:
short, and a disappointing impression.
But I can't get through my mind, why,
why we would think we could want this.

I blame myself, the want for more, drinking
intoxicating flirtation that drives us all,
to jump, to want more, but that thrill
poisons the mind to crave for attention,
immediate love we need to find in ourselves.

I can't tell you the dreams I've had, for fear
you might sprint, at Olympic speed,
onto another life, another man while I
wait, wait for you to return to my arms,
because our future is a proposal.

You, down on one knee, flooding my eyes,
rushing down cheeks as we say "I do!"

february and the roses have
finally stopped flowering

above stormy clouds
the moon scatters like a ghost

i dream of you, of you...

and the night glides peacefully
to rest while i sigh and wait.

They've become a rainforest.
your eyes drip off of leaves,  
pouring from tips of branches-
scrunched in, your shoulders
dictate stories of pain,
with knees curled in, knuckles
white, clenched and sweaty,
whimpers escape lips,  
reliving memories:
mother stalking closets,
slamming doors,
stomping steps,
shouting obscenities but-
The belt is put away,
rib cages no longer bruised,
all left behind.
Take a step;
Take a breath;
Let me in.

Have you grown tired of being worn?
Hung loosely without care,
I apologize for ignoring the wrinkles
on your torso like a frown forming
across the lips, neglected in ignorance
like the iron trying to iron, not on.
Do you like being worn, sweater?
the coat hanger, your straight jacket,
restraining movement, limiting use
Because your attitude tore holes in seams
disappointing my skin, breaking the warm,
Allowing the cold to break the stitches,
Slowly unraveling, but you're still here,
In the back, pondering usefulness, sweater.
I don't know if I'll see you again,
But the moth ***** are collected memories,
Patching up holes, to make you whole.