I didn't mean to become work,
to cross the line from a hand to hold
to a handful.

I never meant to become the sad girl,
the girl that always invokes the response,
what now?

I'm sorry I need more than anyone can give me,
I'm sorry that I disolve at night,
any time, all the time.

I'm sorry.

I write letters
on napkins and bills and receipts.
I write letters because
there are things I can't
won't
say out loud. nobody's ever
going to read them
but at least I put the words
somewhere besides the
empty caverns of my own
soul.

color in my bones,
embellish my lungs,
sew lace into my beating heart -
adorn my skin,
sign your name.
I am my own art, yes,
but it wasn't until I found myself
beneath your hands
I became a masterpiece.

fell asleep,
woke up to a blank TV screen,
to “contact is now offline,”
to no new messages,
to an empty house,
cold and alone.

there is only me,
and god, I hate me.

I never apologized
For the bullet holes
I left in the front door
Of your open soul.
I never loved you as
Much as I said I did, as much as I could have – should have.
Never loved you at all.
I decimated villages before you
And obliterated cities after you
And they’ll never hear an apology either.
But you are like the splinter beneath
My fingernail, the pebble in my shoe
The unpleasant reminder of my sins
Because it is so easy to destroy what is
Already breaking, but you were clean
Glass, unmarked, unstained. I couldn’t
Just tap you into a thousand little bits –
I had to crush and smash, and god,
I’ve never had to stick around to see
The mess I’ve made, but you were
Still there, in my bed, ***** white dress and
Running mascara, asking if I’d be so kind
As to bring you the super glue.

there is nothing poetic about pain;
there is no beauty in the ache of emptiness,
there is no loveliness in the moments before explosion.
there is no honor in loneliness.
there is only the desperation for it to end,
the craving for the last time you felt at peace
and the regret that you did not appreciate it at the time.
there is whole body anger and the repeated
demand of why. why this. why me. why now.
there is only headaches and endless tears
and that ungodliness of no one understanding -
the torrent of it will get better, and you'll get through it,
and nothing lasts for ever.
there is only the infinity of this particular destruction

and I cannot bear it.

while there is
still all this
fight left
                in me
                in us
I won't give up.

and even when there are
no more battles to fight
and even if we've won,
even if we've lost -

I won't give up.

I just
     want
            to skip
                                                   *ahead.

I just
    want
            to go
                                              back.

midnight
don't know if morning holds hello or goodbye
the hours, minutes, seconds
dig trenches into my skin
reminding me that they are
tick tick  ticking away

it could be bright -
the glow of the sun illuminating us,
filling every corner with love and light
and promises and it's really alright

it could be shattering,
spreading our ashes across the pavement
it could be radio silence, the static
humming until it fills our mouths and lungs
the blackness of it swallowing us whole.

and I am trying
so hard, I am trying
to believe that better things are coming
but the fear of losing you -
it's pulling me underground
and I am begging
please
please
please
*let me keep him

float away on the low tide
in my little empty boat
because all the birds have flown away
and my feet have begun to chafe
against the land beneath them
because I've begun to sink into the sand
and the sea is the only body that could hold me

ice in the air, fire on your skin -
the snow hits the ground, thick
and heavy, loud and silent
out of a dark pink sky.
there is a world outside
waiting for us, eyeing us like
we are prey. its tendrils snake in
through the frozen windows, past
curtains and blankets; but for now,
we are safe -  for now all there is,
all there is
*is you.

how lovely it would be to say
hello

without the heavy weight of impending
goodbye.

an emptiness
nothing fills -
invested so deeply
but oh,
those roots never grow.

clenched        fists
       heavy  drifts
empty            boxes
abandoned canvases
                 I am so
dreadfully
                                           alive.

I see you, sometimes, between the lines of now and then,
a sentence I could never quite finish, never quite erase.
still on paper you remain, smudged and
barely legible now. you are the poem I have never quite let go of.
and still, now and then, I will catch the smell of your shirt
hooking into me like barbed wire;
god I hate to be reminded of you,
hate to be reminded how there was a beginning
a half-written middle, and no end - just a comma, waiting for finish.
and I am still grudgingly hoping that someday
you will slip back in and finish it my sentence, my poem,
give me my goodbye, and I pray you do not leave your scent behind.

we lay beneath black sea sky
and I close my eyes, ready for it to swallow me whole
your fingers brush my side like an ocean of stars
and I feel them dying before they even got a chance to live
and I hear your breaths like they are waves,
ragged,
uneven,
heaving,
slow,
and half of me hopes you are contemplating the same
blank page reality I am, and half of me hopes
you're contemplating the ocean in me that could
maybe swallow you whole.

how long it took me to realize
the hands around my neck
were not yours
but mine

come here and kiss all the
parts of me I cannot stand;
tell me how much you love
all the things about me
that I abhor. hold my hands
and tell me all the things
in life you want to do with
me. lay awake at night with me,
when we are both borderline incoherent,
and tell me all the stories
you keep hidden under your ribs.
take me on long walks and
show me all your favorite places,
and your least favorite so
I can kiss you there and tell you
how much I love who you've become

I ask not for apologies, nor
do I ask for remorse.
all I ask is that you
learn what love ought to be.
I asked that you learn.
I ask that you bare your
soul to the ones that come
after me, the way I did for you.
that you unabashedly offer
your trust and love the way
that I always have. I ask
that you hold out your hands
without worrying what may hit them,
without fear that you pull them back
bloodied and bruised.
all I ask, after the hell
you brutally subject me to,
is that you sprint a mile in my shoes, maybe two.
I ask that you attempt to understand me.
Only then, when you have felt my blisters, the
rhythm of my racing heart, the way the
atmosphere rolls itself around me, only then
can you accuse me of being weak.

because

he
     wants
           forever

but
all I
want is

                tonight

I hope you fill me
before I fill this
notebook I hope
you fall asleep
next to me some
near night while
I scribble away
about how there is
no better addiction
than the way
you sigh my name into
my skin

the bomb between your teeth's got
the word forever etched into it
and you tell me how autumn is
a year's final warm breath before
it is buried under six feet of cold.
your finger trembles on the trigger
and you're singing me songs
about how goodbyes never mean goodbye,
but the look in your eyes
when the bottles empty
tells another story. and long ago,
my momma tried to teach
me how to leave the world behind
without having to watch it go
and she'll be so disappointed
when I tell her about the
body bag you decorated for yourself
and how all I could say was "okay,"
when you asked if I'd be the one
to dress you in it.

I don't know how to fight
the war inside
anymore.

every passing day
makes it
a little
harder
to breathe.

The toes of my shoes jut out over the edge of the building.
The ground is so, so far below, but I swear it calls my name.
My blood aches for the feel of the fall,
My nerves hunger for the impact, for the ending I have
Decided to write for myself.
Someone down there sees me, I see his mouth mouthing
Words. I know they are "stop, no."
But all I hear is, "please, go."
I let one foot hang off the side, carve my name in the air.
I am ready, I am ready, I am ready.
My heart beats a ragged bruise against my chest;
I call it anticipation. I think of all the no ones that will
Read my last words, I think of all the no ones that will grieve
For whatever remains of me after I have gone.
It has only been one minute,
Two minutes,
Three minutes.
I'm waiting for the bells, the two o'clock bells,
To tell me it's time. I was born at two in the afternoon
and I will die at two in the afternoon.
I do not allow myself to think about my life.
I am closing that door. That body of thought is not mine anymore,
Nor is it a friend. I am holding hands with death, he is
Inviting me across the street. Maybe we'll have tea together
At 2:01, maybe 2:02.
I check my watch; it's 1:59.
I'm counting down the seconds. I feel a certain relief, a certain
Spring in the ***** of my feet.
My freedom is ten seconds away.
Five.
Two.
1,000 feet
I take a deep breath, fill my lungs with it, and I leap.
The air whistles in my ears, it burns my eyes.
I cannot release my breath.
500 feet
It burns, it hurts, it aches; life did not ache this badly.
I cannot control my body, I am not grace,
I am not freedom, I am not free, I am not relief.
I am not nothing.
200 feet
I am something, I am human, I am exhileration,
I am love, I am pure, I am able, I am worthy.

100

50

25

10

5

I have made
an irreparable mistake.

Long after existence has ceased,
I will have loved you.
Oceans will dry up and stars will burn out,
And I will have loved you.
This planet will no longer rotate on its axis
And I will have felt your lips against my neck,
Your fingers will have found their way up my spine
And I will have loved you.
The abyss will swallow us whole
But you will have loved me.

I always feel like something's missing.

this body is not a canvas for your deepest demons to be smeared across. it is not the foundation for your falling house wishes or your grand estate failures. it is not divine, it is not hallowed ground, do not pepper it with prayer. there will be no answer. this body is a howling wasteland and the creatures brave enough to venture near will be your violent undoing. it is angry ocean and you are a sinking ship; it will accept your anchors but not your pleas.

this body is not love it is not worship it is hell and I am its prisoner.

so the ghost
in my bones can
finally
go home

the light brings shine to surface
but darling, remember

-all that glitters is not gold;

the radiant sea will keep you afloat
as quick as it will claim your life.

there's a particular kind of beauty
in the broken,
in the way they choose to fill
the cracks in their bones with flowers
instead of cement.

kiss me like I’m the last thing you’ll ever taste

I woke up to a mouthful of ash again
because you let that pack of cigarettes burn
all night long and I forgot to
blow out the candles and
you're holding my wrist so tight that
we're both on the verge of cracking
but I know I know you're just holding on
so maybe I'll swim even though all I
want to do is sink, even though you're
the one with the anchors around your neck
I'm sorry your spine is bent
but you're still keeping me upright
I'm sorry you're lost and I threw away
the map I'm sorry I can't glue the world
back together for both of us
I'm sorry I wake up most mornings
unable to breathe

I sat under the stars
And begged for you last night.
But you were still gone
When I woke up this morning.
How am I supposed to know
If I should stay,
When to let go?

Tuesday mornings on the front porch,
Sipping dark coffee and watching the world  pass us by.
The sky will bleed a thousand different colors
But you will still be the sun.

She is electric, frenetic energy
Dancing on broken glass,
She’s the current racing through oceans.
She’s about to overload your circuits,
And tomorrow you’ll thank her for it,
Begging on your knees for just
One more taste.

The mirror is not my friend.
I asked it once, "who is the fairest of them all?"
And my own mouth answered,  "certainly not you."
I heard it echo a thousand times in a
Thousand different voices, all of them telling me
I’d never be good enough.
For myself, for anyone.
I let my fist find the reflection of my mouth
And I did not flinch as my blood fell onto the shards.

I told you
Once
I told you
A million
Times

I'm fine
(my chest is caving in)
I'm okay
(I can't breathe I can't think I can't)

I told you with clenched fists
And wild eyes
I'll be alright I'll be fine
It's all just in my mind.

I learned the true meaning of disappointment
The day I stopped calling you “daddy.”
It was the same day I realized you were not
Responsible for hanging the moon, and you
Certainly hadn’t done it for me. I realized
That the bottles in the paper bags would
Always come before me. I learned that you loved me
But that love lived in a box in the attic,
Dusty and forgotten. I learned that I’d never know
What it was like to live on my father’s shoulders,
If only for a moment. I’d never know what it was
Like to want to escape the overprotective father
Or what it’d be like to apologize to a boy for
The way my father sized him up. I’d never be chastised
For the length of my skirt or how much makeup I was wearing.
I learned that sometimes the ones that are supposed
To protect you from the pain of the world
Are the ones that hurt you the most.
I never learned what it was like to have a father.
Or at least, one that didn’t destroy you.

I carved myself a hollow in your chest
Called it home.
It’s something else to be encased
By your bones, to listen to the
Absolute lullaby of your heartbeat.
Your fingers crawled into my ribs
Tattooing your fingerprints into
My bones and I am yours, entirely
Utterly yours.

I don’t want to be a delicate ******* flower
I want to be made of stone
I want to be a formidable tower
I want to be a battering ram
I don’t want to watch the world’s eyes pass over me
Like they do every ******* day
I don’t want to be the paper-hearted girl anymore
Because my heart always ends up torn and shredded
And balled up in some trash bin because
Somebody ****** up and decided to start over
But the funny thing is, you don’t get a new heart
Once it’s been broken. You left me with no other
Option but to fish my crumpled paper heart out of the
Trash, to smooth out and to erase the marks you left
But you can still see the wrinkles and the imprints
Of what was written. There’s no fresh heart for me.
There’s no replacing the petals that were lost to the
“He loves me, he loves me not” game. I may be
Made of stone, but I am just a pebble thrown
Around by the smallest body of water.
I may be a tower, but I’m a lego tower
And just the fist of a child could destroy me.
And ******* my paper heart.
Did you have to write your name in pen?

I used to know how to be alone.
Before you, I knew how to sit quietly
I knew how to handle the dark on my own
I knew how to be alone.
In the aftermath of falling in love with you,
The night holds an emptiness when you’re
Not here with me. My bed is no longer a
Safe place because there is a two foot
Void you’re supposed to occupy.
Even my skin doesn’t know how to be
Without you, so accustomed it became
To your lips and your fingertips
And the feel of you wrapped around me.
You ruined my solitude. With your voice
And your heart and your love,
You ruined my alone.

There are a million reasons why, why not.
You could write novels about
Every single one of them.
Paint canvases, vandalize empty walls.
And it’d be a shame to waste that paint,
Waste the words inside you, but don’t
Take too long. Or if you do,
If you’re going to run fools’ errands,
If you’re going to run towards what has already been,
Make sure your shoelaces are tied tight.
Don’t trip over your excuses,
Because maybe, just maybe, running in
The wrong direction for so long will find
You running towards something right
And maybe when you get there you’ll realize
How silly you were and how grateful you
Are for it because your bones don’t
Scrape your skin the way they used to
And the dissonant melody of your blood
Suddenly sounds more like a pleasant thrum in your chest.
When you get there, untie your shoes,
Take them off. Let yourself become one with the ground
You stand on. Close your eyes, think of home,
How home never smelled this good, how home
Never kept your toes this warm. Home is so far away
And it’s okay to be scared, but keep going.
Living in the realm of your fear will keep you
Ten feet from where you’ve always been
And what beautiful things will you find there?
The same roses that bloomed last spring and wilted
Last fall, the same trees that become skeletons
Against the empty white of wintertime.
Keep going because your last dress will be
A body bag and it’d be a shame to find yourself
In the same dress your mother wanted you to wear
To church every Sunday instead of that dress
You bought against your (her) better judgment
Because it was too short or too expensive
But you feel like a goddess every time you wear it
And it seems only fitting your exit from this
Life as a wild child is that of a goddess.

I loved you
Once.

I loved you the way
Desperation loves
Quick hearts
And shallow breaths.

I loved you irresponsibly
And without limit.

It took me a long time to accept
You did not love me,
You never did,
You never would.

You didn’t love me in any kind of way
Except the way that attention loves
Its own reflection.

For me, you were a world I desperately
Longed for.
For you, I was an audience and all you
Longed for was applause.

It took me a long time to rebuild
The walls that you unabashedly destroyed.
I was a village you thoughtlessly set fire to.
And had you wiped me off the map,
You wouldn’t have spared a thought for me.

But here I am, rebuilt, whole,
And my foundations are so much stronger.
So for that, I thank you.
I thank you for recklessly destroying me
And showing me what love is and what
Love should never be.

My mother tells me I'm not broken.
She tells me I'm whole and perfect
And that she loves me.
I stopped arguing a long time ago
Because there's no way to tell her
How the pieces of broken glass inside of me
Collide sometimes, like storm-stirred
Oceans and barges, how it sinks ships
And shreds lips. There's no way to tell her
How my thoughts slide against each other
The way a serrated knife slides so easily
Against the skin. I can't tell her how my
Hands shake when I think of all the ones
That left me so easily. I can't tell her how
The coldness settles in my bones when
I miss them, no matter how hard I try
to forget them. I can't tell her about the headaches,
The ones that radiate through my jaw
Because I clenched my teeth all day to
Hold in the screams of frustration.
The headache from all the screaming
I do in my head because I don't know
How to breathe, how to speak, how to
Describe all the ways I feel broken.
How I look in the mirror and I see
The outlines of a thousand piece puzzle
Drawn all over my body and the pieces
That are missing, the pieces that they took
When they left me without looking back.
The bite in my belly when they say
"I'll call you." Half because I know they won't,
Half because I desperately hope they will.
My mother doesn't see the puzzles,
The broken glass, the bleeding lips when
She looks at me - she's so desperate to believe
That all the time she spent trying to put me together,
To make sure I was a real girl, a perfect picture,
Was worth the effort. And I'm so sorry, mommy.
I'm sorry it wasn't.

When I met you
Roses grew out of the tangled bones of my rib cage
Grew down the lengths of my body like ivy
Thorns holding on tight to skin, fed by blood.
It’s been awhile
And lonely, lovesick girls have plucked all my petals
Does he love me? Does he love me not?
A little girl in particular with dark eyes and a quiet soul
Looked at me with guilt
As she tore off my final petal
And I was nothing but vine.
She whispered, he loves me.
She smiled so bright and big, her lips cracked til they bled.
I remembered that smile, remembered the blood
Dripping down my chin, just as it dripped from my fingertips now.
I told her, baby girl,
It doesn’t matter how much he loves you
If he doesn’t bother to water the roses he left in your ribs.