The past holds me by the ankles,
Dragging me across the floor
Through the wreckage
Of my desperate decisions.

There is no destination,
Nowhere to drop me,
Or leave me to bleed
After the debris of memory
Has pierced me
Like a nail through a tire.

The fixed,
Glass eyes of the past
Stay locked into the dark distance behind us,
Retreating into reminiscence.

In the moments when I am strong enough,
I twist to face forward,
In search of the present
And something sturdy to hold onto,
Lest time immemorial flay me
On the rubble of my insatiability.

Just yesterday,
The tearing of skin
And willful deterioration into anamnesis
Came to me as effortlessly,
As sweetly as wine on my tongue
Washing down an ambrosial pill.

But today,
Though it would be easier to concede
To times' torment,
I aspire to want a grounding in actuality.
Praying I find that now
Fills me with a more substantive contentment
Than then.

But everything I grip
Rips from its roots
And disintegrates like a forgotten semblance
In my frenzied hands.

For how am I to know
What lies beneath the dirt?
How can I anticipate the integrity
Of his assurance
And avoid shallowly entrenched
Semi-permanence?

There is nothing but eternity
To continue falling into.
So with tepid hope
And resigning repetition
I keep looking
And I keep grasping
At tethers showing tenable-enough sincerity.

The hours will pass anyway
And, for now,
I retain the belief
That my languid attempts
At thwarting history's absconding of my contemporaneity
May eventually prevail
In standing me upright,
Existant in currency.

Then I may turn
And face remembrance as I please,
With ankles rubbed raw
And stationary feet.

I can visit the displays
Of bygone horror
Without becoming part of the atrocity
Again.

Clutching fast
To the most invariable helve
I've yet found,
I only fear that the past
May rip me in two.

Leaving me halved
And but a fragment
Of the entirety that I was
Before recollection animated
With retribution against me.

I beg to heaven
That he possess me
With the same fervor that I cling to him
And that his coherence
Stays material enough to
Wrap my despairing fingers around.

The songs you watched me cry to,
Remembering him,
Have rearranged memories
And are now about you.

What I crave to do again
Has shifted forward,
Framing new dates
Like a rotating exhibit
That is always a year behind.

Borrowing the soundtracks
From the reels of older grief,
Unarchiving the loss of other lovers,
Taking the signifiers of pain
And giving them to you.

And when I stumble over the artifacts
That have found their way under my feet,
Coming directly from you,
I pick them up and hold them close,
Tracing every angle and seam
Hoping to feel some trace of you.

I listen close,
Pressing my ear to the glass,
Closing my eyes to focus on the silence
In case one might ring,
Just a little,
With the sound of you.

Now I see why I've been drinking so much.
Because through the glasses full of laughter
And the warm days stained hues of whiskey,
The taste has turned into you.

So now I drink,
Desperate for mouthfuls of you.
It burns me the whole way down,
But to swallow your fire
Is how I stay close to you.

I pretend that maybe,
On the other side of town,
You drink me too.
Taking your gin warm
To remind you of my blood
You couldn't help but spill.

I know you don't,
Because I am a chore to remember,
But I hope sometimes
When you drink,
You ******* fire too.

No words follow your visage.
I think of you
And my mind materializes your face,
Your shoulders,
Your hands.

I see your blue eyes
Clear as a stream,
Your wispy blonde hair
Balled up in my fist,
Your jagged nose bumping mine.

My heart jumps,
I hear your slow laugh.
I smirk,
Watching you turn away,
Looking up to the side,
Your hands deep in your pockets.

You are every sensation
As stark as memory allows,
With no definition,
No rhetorical root,
So I struggle to write about you.

You don’t say much
So it follows
That my mind has not assigned a vocabulary
For mourning you,
Though I continue to.

The regret resounds
And I’m at no loss
For names to call myself,
Knowing that I held you
And let misguided indecision
Let you go.

If I could take it all back,
Un-drink all that wine,
Un-cry all your tears,
Go back in time and tell you I love you
The second I thought to,
Maybe you might still love me too.

But the damage is done,
Our bodies untangled,
The pills have all been swallowed,
And you’d rather
I just give up.

So I will lie in the mess I’ve made,
Drenching myself in the blood,
The drinks I have spilled.
Soaking up the guilt,
Absorbing the hurt I let spew.

I will grapple with wordlessness,
Yearning to poeticize my longing.
But I will get what I deserve,
Silence and prosaic grief.

Only images remain,
Flashes of your face.
Tactile memories come in pieces
And I hear your exasperation
In short breaths.

This is what I have left of you
And with this
I must make do.

The sun stays later
And rises higher,
It thaws the first flowers
That open like my chest.

Today spring is here
And the radiating light
Reminds me of your wide grin
How it shines,
Your voice excited to have a day
Calling me sweet names
That still echo in my head.

I drive with my windows down
Feeling the warm breeze soothe my crosshatched raw skin.
The sensation pulls me back
To last years melt,
When we walked hand in hand
Out of the dark winter
And into the river
Into the woods
Onto the beach
Over the mountains.

Now even sunny days make me cry
Thanks to you.
Even the sweet smell of spring
Sours in my nose.
And the promise of longer days
Sounds more like a threat.

Either I have wasted my breath
And spent my air on useless ramblings,
Leaving meaning like a cloud to float away
With intended ears bare to my point.

Or my mouth has not parted nearly enough
To exhale with any worthwhile purpose,
Trapping my objective still in my lungs
Swelling like an over-inflated balloon
Ready to burst at the slightest poke.

My chosen phrasing has been inadequate
Or my audience has decided to stay ignorant,
Rejecting my analysis in favor of blissful unawareness
So they may continue their rejection of truth
And keep pace against self-knowledge.

I have tried to change the story
Be revealing the subtext.
I have unfolded a canvas of consciousness
To one who revels in negligence,
Finding that my efforts are all but transformative.
Now wondering if I have mistranslated
Or muddied the blend.

I have framed this endeavor as an act of service
To one who denies my care.
“It is for his own good” I tell myself,
As I venture to illuminate the truth of the character
I have come to know through lashings and tears.

Now it is clear that the reflection I have conjured,
The mirror that I have painstakingly crafted
Has no form to display.
I have written it down, painted it out
But your attention will not sway
From the mangled path that you have cut every which way but home.

Some urge continues,
Telling me to find another way
to make you listen,
To make you care,
To make you take heed of what I have to say.
Despite your deafness to my voice,
which has been demonstrated again and again.

While my instruction has not enlightened you,
It has taught me to know you
better than you do.
I have sifted through your archives
to find the nuance of your avoidance
And detail it with citation and reference.

The theories I have conjured
And observations I have made
Serve me better than they do you.
They have discerned the route that I must take
Away from you and your refusal to acknowledge the roots of suffering
You cause to those who only wish to be close to you.

So I will venture to stray
From the course which would be easy to take,
Toward deeper understanding of self
And conscious correction of fault.
To one who has taken stock of the harm they have caused
And allowed selfless change to wash away
The habits that hurt.

It is true
That one can only understand me
As deeply as they have understood themselves,
And your defiance of perception
Will keep you from knowing anyone
And anyone from knowing you.

Stop falling backwards, I try but I can’t.
Thinking of the dreams we had,
All of it was a shadow, a lie.
Too sweet for my bitterness
Heavy enough to drown me.

Rare love was anything but.
Feeling, fleeting forever for you.
Tremble, my hands. They still reach for you.
Rush to push you out of my head, replace you.
Dare myself to try again.

Don’t do it, I say. Knowing I always will.
Over and over, I come back to you.
Think of me, if you can remember sometimes.
Cry, please, I know I beg in vain.
Again, I beg for a sign that you feel anything.

Down
Up
My eyes bounce from the water below me
To the dark and dancing river
That runs under the stone fortress I wander

Im sure I have felt this before
Mostly sure
But I can’t forage a memory
From the wilderness
That has rooted in me

I consume myself
Starting with my feet
I twist further to the start
Back to the beginning
But I haven’t yet tasted the memory of this feeling

Stepping into the treeline again
Touching the vastness that I have nurtured
I mingle with the my past selves
And paint pictures of the myriad of selves-yet-to-be

When I first felt used,
My light and warmth abused,
By grips mostly loose,
I was three years younger than you.

But getting better ain’t forgetting
And I’ve got no right to complain,
I volunteered this body, this heart
To be set ablaze.

Carved by my grandmothers,
Hollywood lit my fire.
The kiss of an Irish boy by the bay
Sent me on my way.

Now I need to be needed
Until they need me too much.
Then they turn me black and blue
And call it love.

I didn’t know love needed
So much blood.

Now I’m growing up.
At 26, I still don’t know love
That you don’t need to beg for,
You don’t need to bleed for,
And you’ll never be too much.

I still don’t know what it feels like
Not to flinch at the first touch.
I know it might never come,
But with you it was close enough.

I didn’t know love needed,
So much blood.

I'm used to overlapping love,
One on top of another
So that any space between us
Is filled by my overreaching desire.

But you've carved a canyon,
Filled in by an ocean
And put yourself on the far ridge
So that only my cries can reach you.

The parting ground sculpts a chasm in me
And I watch as stones fall away
From my feet breaching the edge.
But I retreat from the brink
And put myself to studying.

I search my resolve
For new ways to love you
And find that my voice carries.
With lighter words that will not sink
I can sail my love to you.

But my love has landed
On barren shores.
In vain I constructed a fleet
And voyaged through storms
Of my own desperation.

All to find that you have gone.
So I will turn my sails home
And make something better
Of this new way of loving.

This softer, more hopeful love
Will find someone new.
It will find someone who loves me
Like I need to be loved,
Someone who is nothing like you.

And they will reap what you sowed.
They will bask in the light
Of the flame you ignited.
They will savor the sweetness
Of the fruit you left to rot.

While the pain still resounds
And the longing persists,
I cannot detest you
In the way that I wish.

For you, I became a scholar of love
And a student of myself.
And though you have no interest
In my newfound literacy,
I thank you for forcing me to read.

I crashed my car
Thinking about you.

Standing in the debris,
I thought about stepping into the street.

Because I can’t call you
And ask for a ride.  
You won’t come get me
And save me from the headlights.

Last night I counted pills
Hoping there would be enough.
But tonight, I braked when I saw lights
Racing faster than a second blink.

In the glowing red
I saw your smile,
Your warm brown eyes.

As my head smacked the seat,
I felt your hands in my hair,
Putting me to sleep.

I heard your laugh
In the crunching metal
And tasted your lips in the exhaust I inhaled.

So this is how you love me,
As careless and distracted as I drive.
You were always
An accident waiting to happen.

Cigarettes to make me forget I’m hungry.
I just want to buy myself dinner,
But I don’t have the money.

For twenty dollars a week
My stomach stays full
Of nicotine and Red Bull.

Now I’m running out of time
To buy presents for the family
And im worried that I might have to ask
A too-sweet man to spot me.

If I was smarter
If these meds would work
I wouldn’t have to grovel
Or take a third job.

But I spent six months
Running away from home
Sitting at bars
Getting drunk to forget the pain.

Do I sell my guitar
Do I take more pictures
Do I deliver food again?

How do I dig myself out of a hole
I’ve been so comfortable in?
Maybe I’ll lose some weight
Maybe I’ll keep going on dates
Just to stay fed.

Today is the first bitterly cold day of winter.
With a high of thirty,
I bundle myself up for my morning drive.
Puffer jacket, hat, scarf, gloves.

In the car, I wonder if its this cold in London.
I wonder if you're wearing the plaid, wool jacket
Or the black puffer.
Neither are long enough,
So I worry if your legs are cold.

Does this weather make you miss home?
Does it remind you of all those sad country songs
That you love to listen to around a fire?
The kind that sound better
When they unfold in clouds of frozen breath?

Are you still smoking cigarettes?
Is it becoming a hassle to take breaks in the cold?
It is for me.
But since you left,
I've needed them as much as I need you.
I wonder if we ever shiver in the cold at the same time.

So I wrap myself up to brave the cold,
And warm my lungs on the vice
I tried to rid you of.
Not only did I fail,
But i've picked up the distilled poison for myself.

Funny how you do that.
Taking my hopes
And turning them into a regressive addiction.
I can't be the first
You've had this affect on.

So tell me, is it cold in London?

Sometimes I worry
I might do something crazy.

Sometimes I worry
That this loss has driven me mad.

Sometimes I think,
I should go for a walk.

I think, sometimes,
I should never eat again.

Sometimes I consider,
Crawling into your bed
And staining your sheets red.

Sometimes I wonder,
What would happen
If I turned up drunk on your doorstep?

It could be fun,
If I called your brother
Or your friends,
And told them everything you did
All your words that still ring in my head.

Maybe they could tell me
What really went wrong.

Some days it feels
Like the pain will leak from my ears
And tear a hole in my chest.

Every now and then,
The memories feel like dreams,
I fall into them
And out of reality.

Some nights feel so dark,
That I fear the sun has died,
Or that maybe you have taken it
Just to torture me again.

At work, sometimes,
I think I will get up and leave
And never come back.

I worry that if I see you,
I might snap.

Sometimes I think,
I should just go to sleep
Before I go rooting through cabinets
And wandering through streets.

I’m finding it hard to speak
With any sort of power
Or conviction.
I worry and fret over every word
Every gesture and expression,
Wondering if i’m all wrong.

I’ve found that
I’m the most me
When I’m with you.
I’m sure and brave,
With you as my strength.
But now, my hands wring
And eyes dart.

The courage I once had
To lean into the absurdity that defines me,
The absurdity
That you assured me you loved,
Has drained from my body.

Without your love
To hold me steady,
I have turned back
Into the fearful child
That sewed her mouth shut
And cried behind locked doors.

I put on a brave face,
Tell them I’m more angry than sad,
More appalled than hurt.
I try to move on,
Like you,
Trying to find a backbone
In someone new.

But they do not speak to me like you
They do not look at me like you
They do not challenge me like you.
They do not make me someone better,
Like you.

Every day without you,
My body curls tighter.
My knees get closer to my chest,
My neck bends further forward,
My arms wrap my legs harder and harder.

Retreating back into myself
Back into the cell
Your love drew me out of.
Locking myself in,
Where I can wither in peace
Seems like the best way to proceed.

In January I begin to fade.
My astringent blood,
The shock of dying love,
It sends me into clouds of smoke
Where I can escape my broken home.
I meet you in January.

February encircles me
Like tall dark curtains.
It pushes me under the light
Where painful decisions break my neck
And I fall into your arms.
I know that I will love you in February.

March comes,
And I spend my birthday alone
Deciding between crashing my car
Or bleeding myself out.
I buy myself gifts but they can’t replace you.
It was your first broken promise.

I decide to change in April.
I decide to get better
Because I want you to love me,
And who could love me as I am?
In April we collect treasure from the river
And I cut 7 inches of my old self from my hair.

May is for planning.
We talk about the future
But you’re still shaken from the past
And anchoring yourself to the present.
My mistakes and still-loving memories
Push you to the edge,
I choose you in May.

In June, you are everything.
In June, you are my soulmate.
In June, we climb mountains.
In June, I know that I will love you forever.

We give it a name in July,
Our love.
We spend rainy nights under the trees
We sail to see seals on a foggy island,
And kiss lobsters.
Then a shadow lurks over you in July.

In August, I fight your friends
And say things I don’t mean.
You tell me you’re leaving,
And I think “here it comes.”
The fear of losing you makes me sick,
And I beg for you to care.
August changes you.

We almost die in September.
You lie and hide
I cry and beg.
I hate this part of you
And I fear that it is permanent.
In September, you pinky promise,
You’ll be back real soon
And I’ll be your wife.
You say your love for me will never get lazy,
Again.

In October,
I think maybe everything will be fine,
If I can just keep my head down
And don’t flinch at the swinging steel.
I tattoo the thought of you.
In October, it got too much.
Your apathy drags me to the gallows,
Where I have to be the one to kick the chair.

In November, I keep waiting for you
Still hoping that you’ll say all the right things and love me like June.
November,
I wonder how you could do this.
I wonder if it ever meant anything to you.
I wonder if you love her.
If she cries less
If your friends would like her
If she ***** you better
If you’re learning French.
And somehow I still want you in November.

You held me all night before you left
While I cried and cried
And my lungs backfired.

Because I could see the future
And I saw this coming.
But you promised and promised,
That you’d make it all right.

Now look at what you’ve done.
I’m starting to think
That maybe
This is what you wanted all along.

At home, I lie and weep.
While you take her to the gardens,
To the pub,
To the museum.

I wonder now where to put this love.
I still so eagerly wish to give it to you
And so eagerly want to forgive you
For all the things you’re not sorry for.

It continues to flow from me,
Floating away,
In search of your lips.
But you run and hide
And put yourself behind glass
So that my love cannot touch you.

Do you fear that it is too warm
For your frigid body?
Or that it will thaw you
From the frost
That has kept all you feel
Stuck inside that glass?

Ice as your armor,
You turn away
From my burning adoration
And wander into a tundra
Where your eyes stay fixed
On the ever-running horizon.

Keep it moving,
You say.
Do not dwell,
Do not think,
Do not feel.

But I suppose it is easy for you
To stay cold,
To stay away from the fire,
Away from my bright love.

But I will stay alight
Waiting for you to realize
That all I ever wanted
Was to love you to your core.

I believed that’s what you wanted
Because you said you had changed,
But what you wanted
Was more of the same.

More cold nights
Frozen to strangers
That cannot love you
Like I am dying to.

I thought it was over.
I thought that,
Because I found you,
The torture would end.

I thought that because
You loved me
The sleepless nights
The fear of desolation
The lonely tears
Would be over.

I thought that
Because we were together
I would never have to
Beg for love again.

I thought that because you saw me
For the mess that I am
And made me believe
That you loved me anyway,
I had come home.

But you changed your mask
And ran an ocean away from me.
Leaving me drowning
And desperate for your attention.

I threw you every rope,
Gave you every chance
To show me that you still cared.
But your hollow words
Cracked beneath the weight
Of your apathy.

Your nearsightedness
Turned you blind to me.
While I swam to you every day,
Hoping that you could see me
From the beaches of Cornwall.

But you turned your back to the waves
Leaving me to start all over.
Over and over,
Every morning.

Silly me, I thought you meant what you said.
I thought forever meant forever.
I thought when you said you wanted me,
You meant you wanted me.

So you say it’s too heavy,
But you keep adding stones to the scale.
You keep saying we’re drowning,
But you won’t let me up for air.

We’re headed for a cliff,
But my love it’s your foot on the gas.
I know the light looks pretty
Passing quickly by the windows
But I fear we won’t survive this fall.

So I thought
Because you met me in the dark
And made me believe
That you’d always shine a light on me
That it had all been worth it.

That every storm I had endured
Was worth the strength it took
To crawl out of the wind
And drag myself to shelter.

But your winds are whistling
And it’s rained most days since you left.
You’re just another blustering squall
Disguised as the love of my life.

You waited for me,
So I wait for you.

I wait for you to text,
I wait for you to call,
I wait for you to love me.

You made promises,
Beautiful dreams
And I wait for them to come true.

You say it will get better,
That everything will change,
So I wait for your words to become reality.

I wait for you to come home,
Where I wait for more bad news
And more promises.

I wait alone,
Becoming more and more hopeless
That your words will ever be
Anything but words.

I keeping waiting
I keep pleading
Now all I want is the truth.

I wait for you to decide
I wait for you to let go
Or just tell me that you won't.

I wait for you to answer me,
Knowing that you won't
So I can stop waiting
For your love to come home.

In the silence,
It's my turn to decide.
I decide i've been too patient,
You've wasted my time.

And yet somehow,
I still wait for you to care.
I still hope you'll prove me wrong.

Because love is patient,
And love is all I have for you.

So you take my time,
Hour by hour,
Day by day,
I wait.

Maybe I'm waiting for something
That I will never get back,
The way you used to care.

Maybe I'll take this clock I keep checking
All the way to my grave.

From under the dirt,
My heart will keep counting the seconds,
Keep waiting for your love.

I'd give you every second
Of the time I have left,
But it wouldn't mean a thing to you.

To you, my time is free.
To you, my patience has no value
Because it is all that you know.

It cannot be taken for granted,
Because it is granted unconditionally.
Whether you want it or not.

So I wait,
As the clock keeps ticking,
For my heart to finally stop.

Maybe when my time is up,
It will finally mean something to you.

The space you take in me
Stretches to every border of my landscape.

It leaves little terrain
For any other notion to take root.

Your wilderness is dense,
Filled with sharp-toothed creatures
And poison fruit.

It is invasive,
Spreading without challenge
Or consideration for the native species.

I wouldn’t mind your expansive occupation,
Had you ruled with benevolence.

But your presence is oppressive.
It leaves me cowering with fear
In the dark corners of your territory.

Now I think a revolution of the heart
Is about to ignite.
The resistance is growing
And torches are lit.

There is time to save yourself,
Time to quell the riots.
But it’s clear that you lack the will,
The mercy to change.

So now you must burn.
Every branch,
Every leaf,
Will be reduced to ash.

I will reclaim what is mine
Like I have done so many times before.
And your claim to my heart
Will go up in smoke.

Desire overcomes me again,
Impulse stronger than my resolve in love.
Need to be close to someone for tonight.
Touch me, pretend I’m still alive.
Feeling has eluded me for too long now.

Stupid heart, letting go just as easily as it binds.
Drunk and still drinking, I let it go too far.
Thoughtless, or so it seems, but I never have been.
Quickly, I say too much, before I get the chance to stop.
Just once, only tonight, I let myself fall.

Quiet now, let’s keep this to ourselves.
Confused and only getting worse.
Apologies, over and over, this isn’t what you wanted.
Sincerity is lost in my empty brain.
Foggy judgement, as usual, I’m slipping again.

Unsure of my own motivations.
Questions linger unanswered, unconsidered.
Stories I tell myself to stay sane.
Lies I tell myself to keep my feet on the ground.
Hope that it all just goes away.

Just come home already.

My too-big clothes pile into mountains
At the foot of my bed.

I pull my belt tighter,
But loose fabric swims around my thighs.

Joy, love, control over both the internal and external
Melts away from me and forms puddles at my feet.

Looking down into the pool,
I see a child with loneliness strewn about her face.

She begs to be known,
But my impulse is to turn away from her.

To think the fear of loss, of abandonment
Has pushed me to abandon myself...

I cannot reach into that stagnant pond
To hold her.

I cannot keep putting my hands down my throat,
Hoping that she comes spilling out.

And were she to appear,
I'm not convinced I would have the strength to hold her.

But I lay siege to my body anyway,
Longing to starve out this parasite.

Hoping to leave nothing behind,
So that reflections can no longer torture me with desperate eyes.

Because absence, lack, nothingness
Has no countenance for mirrors or puddle-surfaces to display.

An empty space cannot hurt me,
Not like a blank page can.

I feel it radiating in my finger tips
While a terror-stricken quiver
Turns in my stomach
And ascends to my throat
Until dread comes coursing out of my mouth
And shame soaks my cheeks.

Sometimes it seems
That I’m made of glass
And the resonant frequency
Of my foreboding observations
Is enough to make me fracture,
Sending broken pieces flying.

Now, my love I hope you know
That I’m doing everything in my power
To keep all my pieces together.
But doctors, pills, paintbrushes, and extra employment
Are not a substitute for your love.

It’s absence leaves a crack in my foundation
That nothing else can repair.
It’s shape, it’s depth
Are as exceptional as you.
So what crawls out of that cavern
Is a monster of seclusion,
Come to torture me with worry.

I had hoped that your love could reach me
From an ocean away.
I hoped that the fissure would not form,
And your love would not follow you
Across the sea.
But it has
And I’m splintering into ugly, pathetic pieces.

I know I require more than most,
But I know that what I require exists out there
In someone eager to give it,
Joyfully, lovingly.
You promised to be that someone
But your promises take no shape
Except for in the letters
From which they are spelled.

So I will not keep begging for your love,
I will not keep letting your insufficient affection
Lead me to the edge of delirium.
I will not continue to weep
Over the inconsideration you have given me.

I know that what I require is out there
Bursting from someone
Who cannot help but to love me
In exactly the way I need to be loved.

From the corner of my eye,
I watched.
I noticed the way you lean in your chair,
The way you laugh like a storm in a drought.

Tilting your head back just enough,
Your bottom jaw protrudes,
Displaying your sharp chin.
You grin wide like the skies parting,
And closing your eyes,
Your shoulders shake like thunder.
You rain in drops of iridescence
That douse the fires in my arid attentiveness.

At the dawn of our day,
When I first began to know you,
Drinking too much,
Smiling at our fitful hands,
You carved out a piece of my being
And interred it within yourself.

This is not a complaint though.
I would give you every ounce of me,
Carved into whatever shapes suit your desires,
Whittling away at myself
With all the craftsmanship of Donatello.

With this piece,
You possess me completely
Everywhere you go.
Now you stretch my love across oceans
And my heart sets sail
In pilgrimage of you.

I’d drink every drop in the sea
And walk on its barren floor
To be close to you again.
I’d build a bridge of river-foraged driftwood
From my door to yours
Just to wrap my arms around you
For a moment or two.

But my body is already too saturated
With the sodden lamentations of missing you.
And I fear that I’m too weak with hunger
To carry all the branches and boards
Needed to raise such a structure.

So I will wait for you to come home.
And I wish I could say “patiently,”
But I’m fervent with longing
And frantic with grief.

But I will do my best to carry on.
I will paint, and smoke, and work, and cry
Until you’re home again.
Then I will hold you
And hold you and hold you and hold you,
Until we are stuck as one body
And you cannot escape again.

I wish I could believe you,
But I worry that sincerity cannot cross oceans.
And you can’t pack it up,
And send it home to me.

I wish I could keep my cheeks dry,
But I’m withering and wilting
And my eyes insist on self-watering.

I wish I knew how to tell you
That my lungs are stuck in my throat
And my eyes are swollen and sore,
Without it sounding like an accusation.

I wish that your absence
Wasn’t accompanied by heartache,
But I feel sick with desperation.

I wish you needed me
Even half as much as I need you,
But I’m as indispensable as an inkless pen.

I wish that my suffering
Mattered more to you than this expedition,
But I suppose that my suffering is steadfast
And no longer notable.

I wish you’d come home
I wish you’d never left
I wish you’d never leave again.

Infatuation seeps into me
And spills away.
A constant flow of desire,
It goes as fast as it comes.

You're a distraction that I don't mind losing myself in.
You're a beautiful view from my grey window.
A peripheral pleasure.

I try to keep you out of my mind
When you're out of my sight,
But you've found me in my sleep.
I keep wondering if I've made my way into yours.

And when you're in sight, you encapsulate my mind.
I let you dominate the few senses through which I can experience you
And I fantasize about how you could appeal to the senses that haven't experienced you.

I can't discern the reason,
But I've started contemplating my escape.
Not a thing has changed between us,
And yet my heart has gone cold.

But maybe that's the problem.
I shift shapes like water bends and twists
To make its way over rocks,
Under fallen trees,
To a sea of possibility.
And nothing between us has changed.

Your sweetness still sings.
Your love still finds shape in words,
Kisses, and touches.
I used to think that was all I ever needed,
But I'm starting to question my desires.

Lately my desires favor passing glances,
Coded messages, and working late.
My desire favors daydreaming
Of secret touches
And finding ways to get closer
To familiar faces full of seductive obscurity.

Maybe my desire just needs time
To find its way back to you.
I'm praying that it does.

My arms like vines,
I wrap myself.
White knuckles,
I grip my skin
Like the seat of a shaky airplane.

Holding tightly,
I try to steady trembling
That undulates through me.
The teasing provocation
And amorous taunting
Leaves me wanting today.

But I bite my wrists
To extract my attention
From my cavernous mind
And fix it on the skin about to break.

I'm itching for softness
To cover me like armor
And protect me from the jagged edges
That protrude in me.
I need some sweetness
To quell the bitterness
That saturates my mouth.

Be soft and sweet for me,
I know that you can.
Be tender and warm,
Or leave me to cry.

I'll constrict and wring it out of myself,
If I have to,
In time.

You feel like a warm day,
I feel like a burning building.

You shine and glisten,
I scorch and crumble.

You rise like the sun,
I detonate like a bomb.

You look like a rolling hillside,
I look like a blind cliff.

You go on for miles,
I’m a dead end.

You’re a gentle descent,
I’m an unsurvivable fall.

You sound like a country song,
I sound like an elegy.

You’re a sweetly ringing chord,
I’m a tearful, sobbing goodbye.

You’re a nostalgic love story,
I’m a painful flashback.

You taste like summer fruit,
I taste like rotting teeth.

You snap like a crisp bite,
I decay like a neglected body.

You grow and give,
I deteriorate and decompose.

You smell like warm bread,
I smell like burnt toast.

You’re a perfect morning,
I’m a worst nightmare.

I'm snared in my own trap,
Caught off guard by the heartbreak
That has caught up with me.
As if I didn't part the jaws
And step on the pan.

I am my own prey,
Wrapped in the sticky web I spun.
Baited by thrill, drawn out of boredom,
I burry my fangs in my own flesh.

I followed my more capricious self
Into a lonely room,
Hoping she would fan my flames.
But she's backed me into a corner
And brought me to my knees.

I've lured myself close
With the shine of my knife.
I captured my fascination
And held the blade to my own throat.
"Speak," I dare myself.

I held my own hand.
With tenderness and trickery,
Distraction and hope,
I walked myself to the edge of a dizzying cliff
And said "you know what to do."

Now I'm not done letting myself suffer yet.
I will watch myself thrash in torment
Just a little longer.
I will keep biting
Until I'm bored of the taste.

I will tower over myself
And witness my own cowering.
The cold edge will stay pressed to my pulse
Until I've made my point.

I will not let myself turn away from the drop,
I will not cut a path back down the mountain.
I will wait and watch
Until I outgrow my fear of heights.

I will keep crying
Until my eyes dry up.
I will keep grieving
Until the memories stop hurting.
I will keep loving him,
Until my heart lets go.

Then I will be ready
To do it all again.

I roll up my skirt
And carve silence into my skin.
My foot on the gas,
I close my eyes
And let the noise trickle out of me.

Up on the hill,
I lay drunk among the headstones,
Crying into darkness
Until I fall asleep on a pillow of hyacinth.

I find comfort with the dead.
Here, my tears soak into the earth
That cradles their bones
And I imagine that the hurt they carry
Is laid to rest just the same.

The rows of past lovers, sisters, and friends
Emit a quiet understanding.
They remind me that this oscillating ache
Will one day return to the dirt.
My torment is just as temporary as my joy,
Which is as transient as all things.

Though the veil of suffering will lift,
It is only a matter of time before it falls again.
And knowing that respite will arrive
Does not bring it to me any sooner.

So I will scream and beg
For even a moment of solace.
My fists pound the grass
And I writhe in my agony,
Knowing that I look like a child.

But my fictional family
That lie six feet beneath me
Reach up their phantom arms
And embrace me with a kind of love
That can only be found in the delusions
That I fabricate to comfort myself.

Their grasp keeps me from joining them
In their graves
And lifts me to stumble home in the dark.

I have hurt my heart,
I have treated it cruelly.
But it made me feel like a fool,
Daydreaming of a different life
Where I am loved in return
The way that I have loved my heart.

I have wrung myself out for my heart,
Gave my heart shelter, cooked it dinner,
Gave it what little I possess
So that it may dig itself out of the hole its been in
And one day love me the way that I have loved it.

But my heart did not dig,
It settled into the home that I had given it
And blew me kisses from the bottom of its ditch.
And so I looked at my heart with anger and hurt,
Because I gave it every opportunity to reciprocate the love that I have given it,
And still my heart did not dig.

So, my heart, I need you to leave
Because I cannot keep throwing you rope
That you will not catch
And extending hands that you will not grasp.
I only have so much rope
And so many hands.

And I'm sorry that I have been callous,
But, my heart,
You have worn my affection paper-thin.
You have exploited my generosity,
Reached the bounds of my tenderness.

So now my heart sits alone
And so do I.
Alone together in the home we shared.
Soon, I will be alone
And without my heart,
Unsure of how to keep the empty walls
From closing in around me.

I separate myself
And go where no one can hear me,
Where I am permeated by silence.

Where the crisp water gallops over boulders,
Waving white flags as it bellows heartily,
I feel that I’ve had my fill of affection.

Sweet embraces and an excess of tender words
Are intrusions on my reticence
And my only desire is sanguine seclusion.

Taking care, I ponder how to slip away
From well-intentioned hands
That reach for my hips
And into my immaculate solitude.

Maybe I will step into the water
And evaporate into droplets
To be carried away through valleys,
Mile-wide rivers, and back
To the collective, boundless sea.

No one will miss me
And I will be as I was always meant,
A thoughtless drop in something larger,
And far more consequential than myself.

26 is 17
But only more alone.
This time your mom isn’t downstairs cooking,
Your dad isn’t just pulling into the driveway,
And your brother isn’t home for the summer.

26 is thinking that all the pain was worth it
Because it pushed you into his arms
Where you know you’re meant to stay forever.

26 is wishing that you learned your lesson
When you were 17,
When your mothers arms were only a staircase away
And she could have held you
While you found out who you were
And who you wanted to be.

26 is splitting up the record collection,
Asking him if he wants you to bring home boxes from work,
Wondering how you’re going to be able to look at the empty space where his guitars used to be
And continue to breathe.

26 is back to square one.
It’s 17 without the excuse of adolescence.
It’s 17 without a best friend to cry with.
It’s 17 in a lonely apartment that’s only getting lonelier.

The realization stings.
The recalling of my place in this world
Knocks me to the ground
And spits in my face.
It’s icy breath freezes me where I lay.

I remain still as they close in around me,
My friends.
My friends with strong arms,
Deep whispering voices,
Groping hands,
And free drinks.

They make me laugh,
They coax stories out of my mouth
To make room for themselves.
They bait my trust with jokes and gifts.
And once they capture my confidence,
They reach for my body.

But I swear my lips are bitter,
My hair is a thicket of thorns,
And my skin is made of broken glass.
Of course this is a lie.
A lie I wish I could squeeze reality out of.

And so I squeeze anyway
But the truth that flows with ease
Cuts me with joyous violence.
It fills me with poison
And drags my delirious body into its bed
Where it smacks me until my eyes light up with stars.
It strangles me until consciousness begins to slip away.

But ******* a dead girl isn’t as fun
As it sounds.
So he lets me breathe just enough
To let an apology form out of my bruised throat.

And when the truth is done
He’ll leave me out to bleed.
Out in the open for his friends to take a turn.

And they’ll do it again and again and again.
In the back of the art room in a middle school,
In the general admission section of a metal show,
In their twin bed,
In mine,
In the back of a car parked in a field,
At work,
In the bathroom at my friend’s house.

They’ll do it again and again and again

The external spills in.
A visage of the outside materializes on my reflective psyche.
And through the mirror,
The external reaches into me and forces me to tremble
And wail in unison with it.

Could I bend and manipulate the projected image?
Could I make it beautiful and weak
So that it cannot take hold of me and exploit this marionette body?
Or should I simply sever my strings?
So the impression cannot control me,
But only beg for my compliance.

And what if my will aligns with that of the terrible specter's?
I fear I may be too willing
To do the harm it bids me.

I don’t expect to be understood
But I don’t feel like I ever woke up this morning.
I’m stuck in a nightmare
With your hands on my wrists.

And I’m reminded that if bruises could scar
My body would be a technicolor collage of red and blue and purple and yellow.

It makes me sick
How I have to get close to keep my distance.
I have to follow you to make sure our paths don’t intersect.
I need to know what you’re doing and where
Just to keep you there and not here.

My heart betrayed my mind
When it paralyzed me.
When I climbed into your bed
And you did that thing you always did.
When you fell asleep like you’d never really been awake,
You turned your back to me
And in your dreaming
Cut all the strings I’ve been trying to tie to you.

My heart betrayed my mind
When it paralyzed me.
When rather than getting up
And taking my knots with me,
It kept me there in your bed.
It kept me still as silent tears
Soaked your pillow and sheets.

My heart betrayed me every night,
Every time I let you touch me
With lust and with violence.
Every time I let you call me what you called me
And strangle me with your pieced together
Patchwork words.

Even when I left you,
My heart betrayed me when it made me say
I’m Sorry.

Unblinking,
Circle thinking,
I’m starting to see flickers
From the corners of my eye.

I’ve been awake too long,
For the second night now,
Pondering why the bathroom floor
Calls to me-it says take a seat.

Staring at the ceiling, at the door,
How many nights will I waste
In this most authentic state?

Maybe I’m disturbed.
Maybe I’m liar.
I tell stories to the mirror.

Knock knock
My skull against the wall.
I wonder when you’ll wake up and save me.

This is my dungeon, my tower with no stairs.
Harsh light, no comfortable surface,
that **** mirror, all my baneful tools.

My self-prescribed echo chamber,
My punishment for shallow thought.
My love, I want nothing more than to hold you
In imperfect rest.
But the linoleum holds me captive.

You get what you think you want
But you’ll never be satisfied
So get comfortable
Because that’s what growing up is
Denying your desires
Ignoring the itch

You want a piece of everyone
But keep your entirety to yourself
Collecting kisses
Assembling your gallery of lovers
What a beautiful collage they make

Spilling blush red paint
On the canvas of my lily white skin
Dye me technicolor
Like your t shirt
Roll me up and breathe me in

It’s takes more love than you thought
To fill your empty vessel
More pleasure than is acceptable
To pacify your self abuse

My tendency to pursue chaos
Out of boredom
To create my own tragedy
Rather than face banality
Makes me question this feeling

So I will **** it
I will suffocate my restlessness
Force myself into complacency
Cut out my tongue
Cut off my hands
Because I’d rather bleed out
Than reach for something that isn’t real

Your face calls to me
Out of the dancing candle light.
Your eyes beg me for love
That I don’t think I’m capable of.
And yet, here I am falling anyway.

We lay together
And I’m sorry that I can’t stop staring.
I laugh and look away when you ask me why
Because I can’t bring myself to admit
That the way you look tonight
Has me writing poetry in my head.

You fill me with a scared sadness
Because I know this feeling will die.
But at the same time
You charm sweet, desperate gibberish
Out of my sleepy mind.

And so I watch your lips
As loving nonsense spins through my head.
I wonder what will happen to us
How we will fall apart.
Because darling, you’re stunning
And every beautiful thing does.

Because I loved you once,
You will never die.
Isn’t that good enough?
My love has made you immortal.
Your memory is saved in the collective consciousness.
Thousands have read the details
Of how you have changed me,
How you took a child and turned her into
The heartbroken,
Brave but unsure woman I am today.

I loved you once,
Now you will never die
Because you live in my words
And my words will live eternally.
I have given you the gift
So many tragic heroes die searching for
And you are ungrateful.
How dare you return,
Again and again
Asking for more?

Isn’t it enough?
For me to have loved you once
With rage
With lust
With young pain
And eagerness.
I loved you like only a child can love,
And I am not a child anymore.

Is it selfishness or selflessness
That keeps you by my side?
Is it love or fear
That keeps you at my doorstep?
Has your immortality filled you with hubris.
Made you brave
But only at my fault?
Have I created a monster with my words
With my love
With my pain?

Your sweetness is killing me.
I’m rotting from the inside,
Things are coming loose inside me.

Your beauty is terrifying.
Your enticing allure
Makes me shutter with premature grief.

Premeditated withdrawal
Peaks over the horizon that I am trying to escape.
I want the darkness of lustful ignorance
To surround me for as long as possible.

I want to live in these small moments with you.
Wrapped in each other’s touch,
Under the haze of youth,
We live in these moments,
Unattached to the world,
Absent of sobering context.

Then, we are apart
And the cold bite of my detachment shocks me.
That obscure reflection I see
Taunts me.
I cannot have you.

So I contemplate our undoing,
My famed disappearing act.
But mirages of your face
Keep me bound to you,
To those moments
That I wish would encompass my life.

I should have stayed lost
Out on those backroads,
Watching the lightning
Make the night clouds glow.
Because now I can’t stop thinking about your lips
And picturing us tangled together.
And now that I want you
I’m afraid there’s no going back.

I want to show you
How I open up.
I want to feel you open up for me.
You’ve invaded my mind
And the thought of you catches my breath.
The air escapes me.
My heart could jump out of my chest
Remembering the way you kissed me gently.

Part of me wants to fall for you,
But most of me knows that I can’t.
Most of me knows that you’re out of reach
And broken people like me
Should stay far away
From purity like you.
Because I will only ruin you.

But I am quenched by your kiss,
Sated by your touch,
And still so hungry for more.
I’m starving for words of affection
That I know I should not want.
I’m withering away without your validation.

I’ve been spending too much time
Staring at your sweet face,
Your strong body.
I’ve been spending too much time
Watching your smile
Make gentle lines on your cheeks,
Kissing them.  

While we stare
And laugh
I find it hard
To keep my heart from overflowing.
I find it hard to keep those words
Away from your ears.
The ones I told myself
I would not utter
Until I knew myself better.

I should have stayed lost,
Wandering alone,
Between two kinds of love.
Old and new.
Him and you.
I should have wandered into the rainy night,
Letting high grass caress my hips,
Sinking below their tops
Until I cannot be found.

I’d rather lay there
Until the brush consumed me,
Turning me into dirt,
Than fall into you
And out again.
I’d rather disappear into foliage
Than hurt myself
By loving you.
I’d rather been devoured
By those Pennsylvania amber waves
Than be in love with you.

Blue light slinks in under the blinds
And veils your face.
The shadow of your eyes,
Your jaw
Is bold against your glowing skin.
I try to float up to your lips
But I am clumsy and heavy.
And you are soft and strong,
Sweet and inviting.

My breathing is shallow
And my pulse deep,
Radiating in my chest,
Fluttering in stomach.
I could cry,
But I won’t.
I’m so easily overwhelmed by poetry,
I’m easily overwhelmed by melody,
By art.
You are their sum
And I am saturated by you.

The feeling is cold,
But my cheeks are warm.
Don’t scream,
I tell myself.
Don’t break down here.
Don’t let burdensome words
Escape your historically tight lips
That have now found themselves foolish.
Foolish girl.
I am weaker than I thought,
I am weaker than I need to be
To keep up this game.

But you make me gush.
My skin is flush.
I’m blushing pink,
Inventing scenes of your body against mine.
I’m dripping over you.
My legs wither and I fall into contra pasto
Memorializing the taste of you.

My writing is unwieldy
And you deserve better.
Your smile deserves grace
And organized meter.
Your hands deserve alliteration and metaphor.
Your arms deserve allusion.
Your eyes a rhyme scheme,
Your hair personification.

Socially stupid
My pure intentions are useless
I’m a good friend frozen still
Struck silent by a fear of being a nuisance

I understand if you don’t want me around
I don’t know what to say
Or when to say it
I don’t know how to act
Or when to laugh

I just know that we could help each other
I wanna grow with you
I get emotional thinking of all the beautiful things we could do
But I’m a ******* loser
And you’re just to cool

I don’t want to seem too desperate
To eager to get close to you
I just miss how we used to laugh
I miss how we used to scream at the night
Singing and spinning until we were half asleep

Socially stupid
Cordially illiterate
Friendship-less

Whatever it was
That once drew words from
A tempest of a mind
Is missing now.

Whatever it was
That animated my withering hands
With dancerly motion
Has taken flight.

What did I have
That sifted through chaos
And spoke with power
Through my juvenile lips.
Power with which my grown voice
Could not conjure except
In a moment’s horror.

Skill generated from the lust of a fire
Stoked by unpredictability,
Fed by creative superiority complex.

I can look back at my adolescence with shame
And disgust.
I can tell myself
How much wiser I am now.
But that lustful child,
That frail beast
Could soak a page in pain
In ways I struggle to mimic.

I was erupting with language,
Bursting at the seams with monologue,
Overcome by soliloquy.
Now I am a mute stage hand
Calling for my line.

Must I once again take the spotlight
For an audience of self judgment
To prove to myself
That I am capable of putting on
A written performance worth reading?

Let this be my audition.
I will move myself to a standing ovation.

I know it's wrong
To carry on like this.
But now that I have seen you again,
In ways that were too intricate
For me to unwind as a child,
And the love that i've come to know mundanely well
Is few and far,
I can't seem to keep you at arms length.
Because my arms are selfish
And my self-denial is anything but denial.

Maybe it's just a symptom of this pandemic.
My isolation has always
Brought me back to you.
And it could be wrong.
I could be leading you to the pyre,
Following blindly with a torch in hand.

Are you willing to be a martyr
For my narcissism?
A sacrifice to my selfish indulgence
Of another's attention?
But I know your blindness,
Your readiness to burn with a smile
As long as I lit the fire.

You're worth more than my oscillating indecisiveness.
You're a steady pillar
Holding up my contingency plans.
When will you crumble
And let me face the world
With true uncertainty?

As long as I have you,
I will always have something to be certain of.

That blue ridge has vanished.
Not even a sketch of it can be discerned
Out of the white mask it wears.

Behind that mask
Beyond the ridge
I turned into a woman.
I replaced my identity
And decided that I was not a vessel of pain
Or a naive child.

I decided to be intelligence
Kindness
Bravery
And ambition.

Splash.
The lure breaks the water.
He jigs and reels.
Nothing.

What I wouldn't give
To have seen that bridge burn
To feel the radiating heat
Just barely scorching my skin
To know how far away the glow could be seen.

I wonder if my own burning radiates.
I wonder if my still glowing embers
Can be heard crackling.
Or if, like the bridge,
All the incendiary evidence of my youth
Crumbled into the water
And washed into the not so distant sea.

The mask is clearing
And subtle blue emerges.
Will I wait to see it bare its face?
I don't think so.

The flat river stretches out in front of me
And splits cleanly into a deep blue grey ridge,
The top of which is frayed and spiked with tree tops.
Across the reflective, jittery water
Houses dot the banks.
They are white, red,
All bearing a facade reminiscent of the founding of this town.
Massive swaths of earth
Are carved out of the hillside behind them,
It must be a quarry
But I can't be sure.

I drench my senses in this waterscape,
Remembering its past I never lived
And fearing its future that I will most likely
Have the displeasure of witnessing.

Silence breaks as the fisherman,
Whose bow eclipses the concrete embankment to my right,
Takes a call from his vessel.
He is instructing someone on how to assemble some structure
With screws and washers.

I return to my observations.
Blue and white clouds have dropped over
That distant, fractal topped ridge.
It's warm for March but cold for April.
I look up from my writing and suddenly
The blue ridge,
The blue clouds,
And the blue water all appear a shade darker
Than they were the last time I raised my eyes and listened.

He's hung up.
It's time to go.

On my way back,
I remember that it's easier to describe
What's tangible
Than that which is nebulous
And further clouded by an unattended to mind.
I begin to cry and forgive myself.