i went swimming
in the sea of your words,
and overwhelmed by
your waves,
the waves that called my
name,
the waves that said
that
You love me, that i am
not alone, that You care for
me, that You look at
my heart
and You like what you see,
that my heart is worth
pursuing,
in those waves,
i drowned.

when will you understand
that I love you?
what will it take for you to
believe me?
shall I write it in the sky?
shall I braid it in your hair?
shall I tattoo it on your skin?
shall I pour it in your coffee?
shall I whisper in your ear?
was my death not enough
for you?

today,
i heard your
voice.
i heard your
song for me.
i heard you
and You said that
You loved me,
that You loved
me yesterday and
that You'll love me
tomorrow
and You said it
in every language
and You whispered it
and You shouted it
from the rooftops
and You didn't stop
singing
until i believed it.

it was late one winter night
when I first realized
I was fighting a war I would never win
a fight that was fought within my own skin
skin that I realized
I would never feel comfortable in
now
I look at freckles like name tags
scars like reminders
and bruises as memories
that I wish I did not remember
I've since become accustomed to
long sleeves and blue jeans
and people asking things
like "how did you get that one?"
"oh, the door," I would quietly say,
never to tell that the door
had a name.

I think his name in my sleep
It is on repeat as I drift between consciousness and somewhere else
But I can never let him know that his name is a mantra
I repeat to help me get through the days
But I have been realizing that the more I say it
The less meaning it has
His name stops having an affect
I've gotten to the place where I hate hearing it
But I love it
I say it to remind me of the pain
And remind me of my love
My love unreturned
How could someone get me to care so ******* much
And then turn around and pretend nothing changed
But so much has, my love. So much has

I never considered myself one for the books,
A pen felt clumsy in my hands,
Something too delicate to touch,

You introduced me to my first romance,
Tales of rivers and sweet words of Hughes,
Pages were my optics, my eyes danced in the light,

Nights turned into highways of jazz and beat poet longings,
Kerouac and Ginsberg whispering into my ear
of corrupted ivy manifestos,

Maya told me to sing, I did.
My love for her still echoes in her passing,
Set sail to the open waters where Neruda lies,
sonnet 17 afloat upon the tides,

You knew my addiction before I ever got high on the ink,
Drifting across the sentences in the midnight hours,
A prayer in thanks of what you gave to me

i don't want you back,
but sometimes your name tumbles out when i'm searching for words

i don't want you back,
but sometimes i think of you and it hurts

i don't want you back,
i know we can't be

i don't want you back,
but i want to know you're happy

i don't want you back,
but i don't want you to hurt

no, i don't want you back,
but i don't want you with her

true loneliness
is not the result of an empty body
                              no
true loneliness
is the result of a full body;
a body that's about to explode
                              and when it does,
true loneliness*
is what's felt when you realize you have
no one to pick up the pieces.