I have heavy boots
My boots are filled with all of the things I never say
They are getting heavier with all the things I never do
Sometimes it’s just easier to wear heavy boots
At least your legs get strong

I wish someone
would sketch
me in, a sienna
thought with
cornflower blue
edges, during
coffee, chai tea
and bagels.

Removed for literary journal submission.

If I was told,
Tomorrow,
I was going to die,

If I then said,
“I’d change nothing,”
I would be lying.

I am sure
There are things I would do,
Or refrain from doing.
Things I would say,
Or keep quiet.
Moments I would embrace,
Or hide in.

Though I know,
There are some acts,
Some words,
And some moments,
I would keep.

Like,
Talking to you,
Saying three words,
And hearing them back.

He broke me and
i choose to still feel broken
I broke him and
he will forever blame me
for the pain that he feels
despite how many times
i would have told him I am
sorry
I am scared of boys and what
they can do when I don't make
everything abundantly clear about myself
My no's are too silent and too weak
everything I do is taken as a go,
go for it,
when i'm really saying otherwise
But I like to feel loved, and wanted
and everything beneath the sun, dirt
trees, water, water especially
i'm not agressive, I'm not these things
they think I am but
sometimes i gain
too much velocity
I don't want to skin
my knees to stop
no, not again.