swallow this feeling
so it becomes a pit in my stomach
instead of an ache in my heart
so much of my time
is spent feeling ashamed
so incredibly regretful
about just being who i am
i see no worth in me
i bring nothing forth
i don’t deserve what i’ve been given
i don’t even deserve what i’ve fought for
and the saddest part
is that i don’t even feel sad about it
it isn’t even ripping me to pieces
i don’t even want to die
i just want it to stop
being so true

this place is filled
with skins that i’ll never be able
to slide myself into
here i am browsing the aisles
of personas that i may dream about
but silky sundresses
and button up skirts
could never work their way
around me
i guess

has no one ever told you that you’re the
most beautiful thing in the universe?
has no one ever told you that?
see
i find that so surprising.
because.
when i took a moment to stop being so
entranced with the way the light crystallizes
on the leaves of the hammock trees.
when i took a moment to take a moment
and look at you.
*******.
“oh
oh my god
why, aren’t you just the most beautiful thing
in the universe?”
aren’t you just the most beautiful thing
in the universe?
aren’t you?
my child eyes
the same oceans that have seen storms
my child eyes
must be newborn
because you
oh my goodness
you seem to float with the clouds way up
there in the blue abyss
hey,
can you toss down your string?
sweetness
i’d very much like to
join you

my brain and it’s incompetencies
have a lot of fun
in my empty skull,
these days
they remind me that i’m always
missing the one card
that would make a full house
the rooms are empty
but i’m in all of them.

i long for you
and the hurricane we could bring to a room
what am i supposed to say
when you look me in the eyes
and tell me that i
don’t have to worry?
how am i expected to not tell you
that i love you?
do you really expect me to believe
that you don’t already know?

pick me apart
i want to be your romance
your reason
your funny story in forty years
and i’d love the way you’d tell it

my poetry is written in vain
i don’t know how to ask you
if you want to read it
i just know that i
want you to read it

i’m so glad you’re the stranger i pursued
what would i do
i’d sink the ship without you

i’d like to put you to music

i always wish
someone would ask me
if i love you
oh i do
i do i do
flooded with wishes
when your head is next to mine
too much of me rests upon you
while my body can’t rest upon you
at all

i’m more excited to know you’re happy
than i am when i feel happy myself
you give me so much room to breathe
in conversation you listen
and i feel listened to

i am invaded by unexpected
bursts of love
my chest caves in when
i imagine you taking my hand
i had a dream in which
you reached for me
and it was so powerful that
i woke up

i lose my needs within my wants
you are both

am i expected to watch her
learn you and love you
while i just lose you?
yes i suppose i am

my heart is made of cotton
i wear it in my sleeve
please notice what you mean to me
i said you weren’t my type but
i know you understand
misdirection
i’d even settle for a three-piece
a dress a jacket and a rope
let me tie myself to you
i miss you and it’s been moments

are we not snake eyes?
roll again for doubles?
are we not doubles?

i don’t pray but i prayed for a couple
hand-me-down love songs
that i could sing to you
carbon copies of hallmark cards
you were already assigned to an angel
but would that angel give you
her wings?
i’m just a little devil with no wings to give
but i’d give you my shot at redemption

i don’t think you understand
i really don’t think you understand
i am in love with you.
i am so in love with you.
and i know it’s not that simple
but it really
really is.

it's not that i'm
looking for someone,
it's that i'm
looking for more.

it's not that i
wanna be someone's,
it's that i
wanna be yours.

i get myself dizzy
and remember why i fell in love
with your steadiness.

i keep missing the point of everything
what am i doing here?
floating?
is it time to hold my breath
in naivety again?
i stopped growing yesterday
and today i’ve stopped wanting to.

i don’t think you know how i feel about you
i sent a text to my friend
explaining what i love about you
but it turned into less of an explanation
and more of a desperate outpouring of finally
thank god someone finally asked me to talk about you
i have so many things to say
i had a little too much wine
and you drank too much of a terrible-tasting beer
and you giggled and your cheeks got rosy
and i just wanted your hand on my knee
but i was satisfied with elbows.

i think about that time you spoke in honey
it was sweet before i knew i liked the sugar
but your jacket smelled like a familiar cinnamon
that i hadn’t yet realized i recognized
it was the same when you curled into me
my limbs were stiff and sore and the bed was far too small
and i was covered in a sheen of sweat
because our body heat was creating wildfires
but i still dream about it sometimes.

i can talk to you first thing in the morning
your timing has talked me out of the spiral
i love being your friend more than i have ever loved being anyone else’s
i know you worry
but you really don’t have to.
it’s not the glamour that we keep
it’s the gold.

watch where you put
your commas

some things are meant
to end,

i feel you growing tired of me
so i make sure we talk only about you
and i make sure to not mind at all
it’s something i’ve noticed recently.
i am always cutting off my edges
so other people have more room.

i’m entirely out of breathing room
i even miss your suffocation
beads of sweat are worth the wait
your warmth and inclination
to breathe a breeze on my neck
your memory record-scratches here
months and lives have passed
i’m still living in last year.

we put so much faith
in the length of a day
we think we need a day to heal
from whatever emotional damage
we’ve inflicted on each other this time
we think that when we wake
tomorrow morning
life will revert to default
as if sleep is a reset button
and the morning is a new start
but that's preposterous
don’t you know that we can restart
any time at all?
we don’t have to wait until tomorrow
for a new mindset
to begin
open yourself up to the idea
that life changes in minutes
not days
every new minute
is a minute that could
change your
life
let it.

i want that sepia tint love
put on your rose colored lenses and
pretend i’m someone you want or
want to want
just for a sec
just for a taste don’t
you remember the feeling you told me about?
the one about being in black and white
and that boy that you love
was the only colorful thing
you could see
can’t you take pity on a boy
who sees that disaster in you?
i know i’m desperate
you said you love his bitterness
i’ve got sugar on my lips but
you don’t need to know
kiss me and find out
how sweet
you really like it.

i tell the hummingbirds in my belly
to keep track of all the places
they've started fluttering

a doorway in virginia
where you stopped and gave me that grin
and i heard your voice calling me "honeybun"
for weeks

a couch in memphis
pulled out and covered like a ghost
i felt transparent as you slept
and rolled over to me
but you curled around me like a flower petal
and that's a smoothness
i can still feel

a backseat in south carolina
an alternating current of whispers
about things we can't change now
and jokes about things we
wouldn't want to

a living room in knoxville
your assortment of alcohol was
displayed on your cheeks
rosy and pink and i wrote a poem
about it already, about how
i wanted a hand on my knee
but i was fine with little giggles
on the walk home

on a plane in california
you were thousands of miles away
but i needed you to tell me
that i'd make it home safely
and you did

a late night diner on melrose place
french fries and opinions
i told you something important
and i don't think you've forgotten it

four a.m. in the back of the library
talking about biology
and our favorite things in life
we'd laugh until nothing was funny
and then we'd just be honest

in a booth in the middle of a mcdonald's.
i had forgotten this one.
i had been wondering recently
when our friendship actually started.
what were we,
before honeybun?
before sharing a bed?
before car rides home?
before too much wine?
before i needed your steadiness?
before too much backstory?
before hours of biology i never even learned?
before that first time,
when our group of friends
said, "let's meet at mcdonald's"
and it turned into just me and you?

when did the hummingbirds start fluttering?
when will i learn
that they're not going to stop?

i do it all for the noise
that it causes
treat it like a
kick it like a
habit
my beauty sounds like a yawn
i'll put us in story mode next time
so maybe we can finally dance like we mean it
falling asleep to the thought
of travelling back in time and
meeting a beautiful face
that i don't love nearly as much
as i love yours
i'll wade through my sad memories
and you'll comb through yours
and we'll know we could have done things
so much differently
but that would mean we wouldn't be here
sitting cross-legged on the living room floor
fingers twisted and hearts broken
fixing a world
that never wanted to be fixed.

we rise from the wreckage
and i love you just enough
to know that you love me too.

tonight’s air has the
perfume scent of acetone
and dewdrops
clumsy knees under tables
heads on shoulders

the little dipper in the sky
is scooping out some starlight
to soothe my worried throat

this morning i’ll dream
of angels and demons
and falling in love -
and with limbs heavy
but heart set alight,

i’ll reach out to an empty space
and wonder where
no one
has gone.

my body is missing something
so i try to cover it in more fabric
bright colors and dark colors
skin tight or loose or covering no skin at all
but still my body is missing something
so i try to drink something
water or soda or juice or gin
i try wine so maybe my tongue will taste
as bitter as i feel
but still my body is missing something
so i scrub it
i place it under a steady stream of water
and i lather it in soap and i scrub away
until surely i must be brand new
but still my body is missing something
so i eat and devour
sweet and salty and bitter and comforting
and it sticks to the roof of my mouth
and i think maybe that’s what it was
but still my body is missing something
my body is craving something
i think it just wants
to be different.

i think it's probably the idea
of such blatant goodness
that really draws me in
i know happiness will linger
where he walks
so i'll follow
because it's that kind of happiness
that i need.

i left a tear in the pacific
he sang gimme the beat boys
and i slipped out of my heels
imagined the ocean from atop a mountain
the waves had me swaying and weeping
and the salt found its way home
they hung lights over ocean avenue
these city streets and their poetry
have convinced me that home
was never anywhere else
i sat on the edge of the santa monica pier
and i knew
more than i have ever known anything
that i would be back.

he sits at a desk in the library.
it’s nearly midnight and you watch him
take his notes and drink his water.
you’re a desk away from him
and you know that it’s much too late
to be making conversation
but he looks up
ruffles his own hair
and smiles at you something weary
something tired
something beautiful enough to
make you smile back
more genuinely than you honestly should.
he’s a stranger but it’s fine.

it’s dead silent in here
just you and the books
and the millions of things you could say
wrapped up in them
and while you’re trying to think of something
he curls his lips around the words
“finals, huh?”

you laugh and say
“yeah man.”

you want to maybe elaborate
tell him that this psychology exam
might actually be the death of you
tell him that you’ve been studying for
four hours straight and you think your eyes
might actually fall out of your head.

he laughs back and nods
“how many exams you got left?”

you groan
“just one. you?”

“two.”

“good luck with that”

he laughs and you want to say something
to make him do it again

he feels special
you know?
like.
you just know sometimes
but the air doesn’t feel like magic
it feels like you’re in a library
at midnight the night before a final exam
that you don’t know a **** thing about
but the guy a desk away from you
is still looking at you.
he’s still.
looking at you.

and you hadn’t noticed but
you’re still looking at him too.

he says
“i’ve been here since like six.
do you wanna get a coffee?”

just a little smile around the words
“yeah, sure.”

and you put away your psychology notes
and your laptop and your book
even though you’ll need to study for
at least three more hours to understand
a single thing it’s fine.
he packs up his things and the two of you
walk to the elevator.
he lets you press the button

you ask
“what were you studying?”

he says
“bio. you?”

“psych.”

“ouch.”

“yeah”
you laugh
and he laughs
and the elevator laughs
as it dings and opens its doors
even the environment has begun to
take part in your merriness.

you step inside
he hits the button for the first floor
and he says
“i took psych last semester.
which one are you in?”

you say
“one-ten.”

he says
“yeah that one’s rough. barely
passed it.”

“tell me about it”
you joke

and then the elevator dings again
and the doors open again
and the two of you fumble to step out
like you go first no you go first
and it’s all very cute

and you get to the starbucks on the first floor
get in line and take note of
how many people are still here
frantically cramming information into their
tired
tired
brains.

time skip
you two have your coffee.
you sit at a little table that
just barely became vacant
and you sip.
you got something hot and
he got something cold
and you thought it was cute because
it’s december and here he is with a frappe.

you chit and you chat
and think maybe this could be that
romance for the ages
that the movies talk about.

his laugh is like a jingle bell
happy holidays to you both
it seems.

he smiles at you again and you
sip your coffee
and before you know it
it's dangerously approaching 2 a.m.
but you can’t bring yourself to
check the time anymore

you laugh until you’re not strangers anymore
and he says
“this is such a great study break”

you say
“i’m so glad you asked to get coffee”

he smiles and says
“me too.”

and it’s all downhill from there

(or is it uphill?
you never can remember).

you are too good for me
far too much, far to precious
i'm callous and nothing like what i think i am
you are going to do good in this world
and i am just going home.

tinder bio reads as follows:

looking for someone
to keep the promises
i make in my poetry
i know they're not your responsibility
sorry not sorry.

i don't **** with one night stands
unless you keep my poem promise
to never fall in love
with the happiness
that i can't have.

ask me about my
existential dread
(god knows i have
plenty to talk about)

6'2 if that matters
it always does
(does anyone even read these)

you fill me with
the kind of
wanderlust
that makes me want
to dig up the bones
of antique cities
but if you asked me if
i wanted to just
curl up underneath covers
twinkling lights and
limbs twisted and entangled
i’d go get the blankets.

he may be the head-over-heels
this-time-it's-real
what-the-hell-do-i-feel
kind of in love with her;
he may be the lose-his-mind
without-her-shine
create-a-world-within-her-eyes
ki­nd of in love with her;
he may be the always-and-forever
nothing-better, scarlet-letter
kind of in love with her;
or maybe he's not.
who's to say?

see, for you
i would change anything about me
but for him?
for him, i would never have to.

such little interaction i know
just little pleasantries
but you remembered
out of all the distractions
you remembered.
i could build you up in my head
like a build-a-bear
give you a soft demeanor
make you a dancer
make you a painter
make you a soft soul
with seven cats and an
incredibly high score on guitar hero
in my mind, you could become
literally anything
and it’s a little scary.
there’s almost a 0% chance
that you’ll be who i think you are
who i think you could be.
thinking about you is dangerous.
i guess i’ll do it anyway.

he sits and stares out
at the fine line between the
ocean and the sky
and wonders how it would feel
to stand on it

is the world so fragile
that it would break on impact?

or is it so strong
that the harm of one
unimportant human
wouldn’t do so much as
slow the collision between
the sun and the sea?

“nobody else feels bad when they feel bad
so why should i?”

well honey that’s the difference
you’re not like them
you’re too sticky sweet and soft
no one wants to touch
and no one ever will again

there’s a little bit of
everybody
in everybody
your colors reach my colors
reach their colors
how dare we forget
that we’re human?
how dare we forget
our time underground
before our growth?
how dare we forget
that we were just seeds
and by the water of strangers we bloomed?
and now that we are grown
and have our own supply
how dare we forget
to share?

i've written and posted
seventy three poems
on this website for the sake of you
and for the sake of my own safe keeping.
this makes seventy four.
seventy four poems that i've written
and still i don't think
i ever really
said
anything at all.

is this not me?
the 2 a.m. questioning and
the brokenness of my body?
the loneliness and the doubt?
the wondering if i want this now
only because i think i will never
have it again?

is this version of me
any less true
than the version that is proud
and loud and brave?
is this not who i am?
is this not just as much me
as i was when i was
so different?

i wonder how i can swing like a pendulum
so violently from safe to scared
and then i remember
that i have never been steady
and i have never been brave enough
and i have never learned to be honest

this is me learning honesty

what do i want?
how do i ask that question
without fearing the answer?
how? how? who?

is this not me, too?

in these times of chill
these times of blistering wind
i think it is important
to know how to keep warm.

you can reach for a hand
a body a furnace other than your own
and it may warm you
but for only as long as
it can sustain itself
after that, you’re both just ice.

and what if someone
reaches to you?
what will you say?
“i’m sorry i’m too cold
to warm anything at all”
how sad.

i begged myself for an answer
begged to know what to do
before the times of chill returned.
and, lovely and true as i am,
i responded:

put on your winter coat.
wrap your hands in fuzzy mittens
that make your insides feel fuzzy too.
double up on socks
and wrap your neck in a wool scarf.
you have everything you need
to feel warm when it gets cold
it was always with you.
you just have to dig around for a bit.

and so
in these times of chill,
i warm myself.

and my god,
do i recommend it.

see the thing about
fighting for someone you love
is this:
when you’re fighting against a force
that is splitting you in two
opening you up to see
what your insides are really made of
then it’s a battle.
it’s noble and it’s good
and you are not alone
but when the force steps aside
and awakens you
but not your beloved
you must drop your weapons
remove your helmet and your gauntlets
and your blistering will to carry on
because once you realize that
the one you were fighting for
is now the one you’re fighting against
then, my dear,
then it is a war
and you have already had your fair share
of violence.

i'm cleaning out the rooms
let the wind blow through
try to clear the counters of the dust from where i moved.

plucking at the strings
to make a melody
i guess some people never understand my poetry.

i think i'm still alive
tucked below the lights
i know better than to expect sympathy tonight.

i know better than to expect sympathy tonight.

when a boy shows you his hands
bare except for the dust
he’s begging you to look past
take them in yours.
squeeze them once.
twice.
say without speaking
that you understand that the valleys
in his palms were meant to cradle
shooting star wishes
that he’s allowed to still hope for.
when a boy shows you his eyes
of milk and crimson and melanin
a bloodshot vein for every night he can’t sleep
let him shut his eyelids.
say without speaking
that you understand that the black hole pinpricks
of his irises hold more than the universe
should allow.
when a boy shows you his soul
shivering but still working toward friction
iced over but still working toward melting
let him come to rest next to yours.
say without speaking
that you understand that he is lonely
and that his silence speaks volumes
and that you kept his treasure close
because you love him.
when a boy shows you his hands
show him your hands.
when a boy shows you his eyes
show him your eyes.
when a boy shows you his soul
show him that
this is a comfortable place to rest it.
when a boy shows you the hardness that shaped him
show him the softness
that you have in store.

i was watered like a garden
then drowned in all the rain
they said it’d help me grow
but it just dilutes my taste.

(i was brewed like a strong *** of coffee
but i didn’t know how to say no
when they asked if i needed more ice cubes)

i’ve got a sweet tooth
that you steal every few days
and i roll this bitter taste
around on my tongue
and ******* it i’m just so sad
and i’m so ******* sorry
that you’ve made me hate you
because i love you
so much that you have too much power
i’ll always race to save you
and you know it
and that’s how it will be
forever and ever
and ever.

a coral reef would never judge me
for taking up too much space
it would just sway in the current
and tell me that
there’s a whole ocean out there
and i don’t have to settle
at the bottom.

it’s so romantic
thinking about wasting time
just because i love being with myself
this score of music
makes me dizzy
overcome by the smell on your clothes
you roll up your sleeves
and i love you unconditionally
imagine how much stronger i could love you
if i loved me
too

i’m always a little worried
about a car crash
every night feels like the movies
like the perfect time
to crumple up and cross
and while the road is so dark
and your fingers dance away from the wheel
i wonder if my worries
will finally be put to rest

if loving you was easy
i would have gotten bored by now
loving you isn’t a piece of cake
and that’s so fortunate
because i’m more of a pie lover myself
if loving you was easy
there’d be no reason for you
to put up with me
thank god loving you is difficult
i love that the most

rush hour interstate
and winding backroads
both have seen me sobbing
but neither has seen me
feel anything at all.

the misty skyline at 11am was what did it
there were also the neon lights
flashing a few blocks uphill
the silhouettes of palm trees
and the smell of gasoline and churros
one couple behind me speaking russian
and a group in front speaking spanish
stepping on the stars
and capturing moments in the sky
those big block letters on the mountain
and also the rest of the mountains
the picturesque hanging lights
and dimly lit restaurants
the balconies and the bustling crowds
panhandlers with their money’s worth
and a nighttime energy to die for
but it was the misty skyline at 11am that did it
this truly is the city of angels
and i am among the stars

i sit across a redwood
familiar strangers
who hear themselves asking how i am
but never hear me answering
i sit behind a redwood
tip tapping feet in the shadow
they want to tip tap on out
i sit beside redwoods
others with their own familiar strangers
who hear themselves asking how they are
but never hear them answering
strange how we bond over
the fact that no one
is bonding
happy thanksgiving to my
unfamiliar kin
here’s to another year of
never being thankful until
we feel guilty
about it.

i woke up on the underside of an avalanche
i always try to go to bed with an olive branch
but the morning brings a thorn in my side
every time
every time

either i am very bad
at being human
or i am far
far
too good at it.

i couldn’t care less
that my feet are wet

my jeans with the holes
keep my knees cold

i don’t really mind
my fingers like ice

i’ll still take the long way home
good things happen when it snows

when i say
“i want you to come home”
i’m talking to the woman
i was always expected to be

i don’t miss her and
i don’t love her
but she would make it
a little less messy.

she’s spilling over with sunshine
and i’m searching for songs
that are just gonna make me sadder

i’m really not good at existing
on sundays.