he is the gum wrapper crumpled at the bottom of my backpack
a simple memory that lingers in my head for days
i want to understand, why i never feel like enough
a passing thought that makes my heart ache

the first snowfall of the season brings me back,
to a place when i still had a grasp on myself
wet snowflakes clinging to my dry clothes feel like stolen kisses
a soft, white blanket, is now unveiled to what is beneath,
a cold hard ground

although it seems like a dream now, somehow it is a dream i can not stop dreaming
frozen hands hide away in coat pockets in early January
freezing rain and a velvet dress for February
so much happiness yet to be discovered
hope, before the long, cold
unthawable winter

and as the snow melts to rain, i find myself wishing for that winter wonderland i lost myself in
summer was always meant for change,
and i guess that all started with you.

today my two cats turned fourteen
I wonder if they know
do cats feel age?
I don't want to

the water is no longer hot by the time it reaches the drain
it drags down straggling pieces of hair along with it
as I pull them out of my red itchy scalp
my hair is too long not to brush anymore
and i can feel more and more falling out every time
each strand is a thought
a struggling idea that wants to live but cannot
washed down the drain before i choose to act on it

I use two different kinds of soap because I like the smell of both of them

i realize that the moment between the kiss is better than the actual kiss
the longing, the reaching
the mixed breaths rolling in and out of open mouths
tells a much more beautiful story

I scrub at my face
I feel the rough spots, the bumps
I scrub harder
even though i know that no matter how hard i wash
it will not become clean
I will not be vibrantly beautiful
like it is in my dreams
and as i stand (or sometimes sit) in the never-changing shower
I realize that my life
will never be as vibrant
as my dreams

he is a flower growing in the middle of a winter
buds just popping up over a blanket of white
begging for a chance to live
he wants to thrive
i can see it in his eyes
i feel it in his touch

for i have never met a person like him
fearless
crazy in all the right ways
he teaches the sun to shine
and the moon to glow

i follow his lead
i step in his footsteps, much bigger than mine
he always waits for me
he is always ready to love, arms wide open

you lit flames within me
small, traces of you left in the nooks and crannys of my mind
a kiss on a sunday
a wink on a thursday
and all the while inbetween--
twigs and branches fell into the flames
silently screaming as they shrivled into the ash
taking each and every leaf with its newfound flame
until entire trees were falling to its wrath
a light so bright,
so bright that i could not feel the water i was swimming in
the slow, dark ripples bring my burning face in and out of its grasp,
taking me under slowly,
letting me long for that distant light
the hope that there was heat out there somewhere,
a warm embrace that would dry my damp and shivering soul

i believe that he was the sun
and we lived in the monsoon season
everyday i prayed for a simple ray of light
but instead i was met with constant rain,
falling,
slowly,
into my already wet eyes

that simple, stupid spark he started within me could not be tamed
for i had fueled it
instead of stomping it out

i think in my own perfect paradise, things would be so similar, yet so different.
i loved driving down the road, sticking my head out the window to hear the tires crushing against gravel, the chill wind driving my wet sleeve to flap in the wind, and the booming low chords of an acoustic guitar seeping through my speakers.

the moon was high and bright, and i felt that god was staring straight into me

but i wanted it to be us
sticky hands pressed together for too long,
hands that feel better together than apart
a necessity
not a treat, or a present

i don't want your lips to be my reward
i want them to be my routine, my way into your soul
again and again
and again

and as i found myself sitting alone in that church parking lot,
the first night of summer,
looking up at a moon i knew you were drunkenly looking at far away
i wished it could've been with you

a you with no rules
no ifs, ands or buts
just
simply
you

the minute i felt the gentle breeze brushing against my skin from between the dusty rocks, i fell into a daze
a dream almost,
the dream where that one thing you desperately needed was in your between your fingers, begging, just aching for you to capture it
and the minute you close your fist to hold it, it vanishes - like a cloud of smoke
you awake, and all that is left is a fist clutching the sheets
gone before you could comprehend what it was

maybe it was a feeling, maybe it was the dripping beauty that saturated my thoughts every time my eyes fluttered open,
almost as if my mind didn't believe we were still there
believed that we were still dreaming

and maybe, maybe it was the idea that this was a single place in the world where i would never feel sadness.
maybe i was in love with the idea that the beauty and soft purple flowers growing out of dust could heal my worried and tired soul

when the desert sun rose on that Thursday spring morning, i brushed my teeth, and shrugged on the same shorts i had worn the entirety of the road trip
bell rock was the hike we would make
red powder built on my shoes as the wind pushed my sticky bangs around my forehead, and i stopped to look at the names, intitals and hearts scratched into the rock,
i thought about how proud the rocks must be, for people carved the letters of their name into them, just hoping, praying that a place this beautiful would remember them;
i thought, maybe they hoped that the part of them that carved their name along with their lovers would always be stuck in Sedona, smack dab in the middle of that lone desert paradise
while sitting on the top of bell rock, the red stone underneath me, cold and raw on my bare thighs
i felt the rocks speak
they told me, "do not be afraid, for i have been here before souls were poured into humans, i have lived long before you and i will live long after you, my dear; do not be afraid"

the mountains have eyes, i can sense it
they feel every snowflake wet,
and every hiking shoe dry,
loving, and embracing the beautiful home they created
and as for me, well, i wanted to be one too
i wanted to stand, and listen to the hum of the buzzing highway below,
and the hawks in the sky above
in the cool air of the desert
for the rest of eternity