you know
i waited for you.
like a child waiting for the first day of school, the coming of Santa Claus or the first snow.
you didn't come.
eh, i am not going to get mad just because of this.
but i'm still thinking
if you're okay,
if your smile's the same or
if you got new wrinkles on your face...

You're fine, I know that!

standing there
watching you talk
the words dripping from your mouth
like water from a broken faucet
i wait in earnest for you to say my name
hope fills my heart
every time you look me in the eyes
but you always look away
and you never say my name
and it isn't until later
when i'm all alone in my room
sitting on my bed
silence wrapping me up like a blanket
that i look to my mirror
and look my reflection in the eyes
and i remember
that i can say my own name
and i've always said it better
anyway

we sit in the backseat
of his parked car
on the edge
of something close to a revelation
the night sky is hidden
something like a secret
and we are cloaked in darkness
but next to him i swear i can feel the stars
i tell him this feels like my favorite song
something i heard once and will never forget
he kisses me and my heart beats so fast
it slows down time
this is everything
and we both know it
he asks: why didn’t you tell me?
i open my eyes
and then
i’m awake
cold sweat
alone in my bed
he’s gone before i get to tell him:
i always thought you knew

who broke the moon? its
slivers shatter on tile and you
emptied them in our flowerbeds,
waiting, i think, for the rain.

Define how you see me,
take your fingers and allow them to slowly climb up to my collar bone.
I paint you in scenes.
I find the familiarity in the way you mirror the comfort I always craved but couldn’t allow my throat to clear long enough to ask for it.
I wouldn’t find the absolutism in this moment, I wouldn’t be so present, I wouldn’t be so focused on the curvature of your lower lip as it edges closer and closer to mine.
I would be numb, you wouldn’t even be here, or your would be and I would have forgotten your name already as you climbed on top of me.
It’s like a receding hair line,
the pungent smell of betadine, the risky slip of ‘she’s not breathing’ but I heard them,
it’s deceiving.
lucky to see the way the sun rises, lucky to feel the pain
your terror exposes
how do I clarify the explantation
that unconditional only comes with the
vivid understanding that
god, it goes by so quickly.

my heart is an ocean
unpredictable
calm and stormy
a blue force
that hides thousands of secrets

many have wandered
out on my untameable seas
but my waves have dragged them
my love drowned them

but you
you are the only one
that can sail through my heart
the only sailor
who knows the ways
knows what will happen next
you know the semantics
know the secrets bellow
you know what places to approach
and which ones are better to stay far

and it pains me so much
that after months of sailing around
you always go back to the land