i don’t want to be someone who writes in pencil
and eats too slowly and walks with eyes that
are glued to the sidewalk and tops of strangers’ feet
i’ve been underwater for so long that
i’ve forgotten lungs are meant
to be filled with air; exhaling seems
more like something found
on the second star to the right, rather
than a process that is meant to be
done twenty-three thousand times a day

i feel like an old woman who
looks in the mirror and all she can see
are wrinkles and white hair and tired eyes and
the absence of who she used to be

but i am not someone who turns away
from sunsets and pretends
that darkness is all i’ve ever known;
someone who thinks
the sun will never rise again

because the sun will rise again—
the words hiding inside of me will
find their way out, because
i cannot hold my breath forever

i am not someone who writes in pencil
and erases the bits that are too
honest and too imperfect and too real
to claim as thoughts of my own

i cannot keep my lips pursed and
hands tied behind my back,
i cannot keep pretending i am
a shadow of who i used to be

my tomorrows hold suns much
brighter than ones that have risen
over horizons of my past;
i have not reached the summit yet

there is so much more me
for me to become

each day, i am new.

sometimes i think about
how you woke up this morning
and brushed your teeth

i wonder how you like your coffee,
and if you read the newspaper

why am i wasting my time
letting all these people
that don't really matter
break my heart

when you're out there somewhere,
living your life
and wondering where i am

i know you're out there
and you're waiting for me too

i’m too shy
to tell you
how i feel

so i’ll hide behind
timid smiles
and soft hellos

i’m afraid
if i ask you

“what do you think of me?”

your reply will be

          
                              
                               “i don’t.”

instead of pursuing the difficult,
yet beautiful bundle of perfection
we once held, you and i chose
to fall apart and plunge into separate depths

although you’ve decided to run north
while i’m patiently waiting in the east
for this torment to run its course,
i know that our love
was real and true and pure

love is selfless and kind,
and whilst i wish i could grab your hand
and beg you to never let me go,
i’m allowing the pain that comes with love lost
to scrape my heart and strengthen my soul

my eyes are set on heavenly things
and captivated by an eternal outlook:
i know i am becoming stronger
so that i may have more endurance
for future suffering

i know you didn’t give up on me
nor did i give up on you,
instead i’m choosing to love you
by letting you go

i want to dye
my hair and tattoo my skin
so that the changes
you’ve been noticing in me
look like they’re
on purpose.

all of the words
you speak
today and tomorrow
are in vain

for you do not wish
to throw rocks at my window,
you know very well
i am already on my doorstep
waiting for you

you love me in songs played
on tuesday afternoons,
gaps in conversation where
three words are meant to fill it
and faded journal entries
dated when time was blind

you’ve written disguised goodbyes
beneath my eyes
and subliminally (explicitly)
whispered (shouted)
to move on, move on, move on
each moment i’ve tried to draw you nearer,
you do your best to push me further away

but even from a distance,
you are still holding on

let me go
let me go
let me go

so i may finally
let go
of
you

right now would be a great time to write poetry
it’s past midnight, everyone is asleep
there is a pale blue light coming from the hallway bathroom
my thoughts are lingering in distant, buried places
recalling nightmares as dreams
drawing halos over the heads of humans
but i don’t want to
i am tired
and bored
and afraid my words will smell like stale clichés
maybe i can just dip my toes in reflective black holes
feel the coolness, the deadness
the other world i’m too afraid to fall into
like quicksand or riptides or working nine to five
maybe i can lean in, just enough, to get a glimpse
of what i do not want

i promise i don’t think of you.

I'd rather have scars on my cheeks
   And a crooked nose and
Bad skin and boney hips
   Or boring eyes and boring hair and a boring mouth
And someone tell me
   “You’re beautiful,”

Because I’d know they meant
   I am beautiful in the way that I talk,
In the way that I listen, in the way that I love,
   In the way that I am

Than have

   Pretty lips and pretty teeth and
Pretty hair and a pretty nose
   And ignorantly believe
That being beautiful in the way that I look
   Is enough.”

everyone individual
is so intricate,
yet we rush to peg them,
to label them,
to tell them who they are

if someone were to draw me,
i think they'd draw an outline
of my arms and legs
and form my lips
into a sweet smile

but if i were to draw myself,
i would darken the inner parts
of the outline with squiggles
and place a thousand different
expressions on my face

the more i meet people
and flip them inside out
to run my fingers along
the cracks of their beating heart,
the more i realize that
no one really is
"normal"

I know it hurts like heavy nothingness, and it feels like everything was pointless. Like it was all wasted time and effort and feelings, avoidable heartache, disposable passion. I know it hurts, and you’re hoping it’s all a lie, that you’ll close your eyes and everything will go back to the way it used to be. But even though it feels impossible now, you will learn to let go. It may take awhile, and it may always sting, but one thing that’s certain is that you will be okay. You’ll learn to breathe again without wincing, you won’t flinch at the sound of her name. First it’ll be a day, then two, then weeks and months and you’ll forget all about the pain. You’ll smile and laugh and it won’t be fleeting or fake, it’ll be real. You are going to be happy again. I know it hurts. I know. It’s okay that it hurts, you’re human. But I promise you, it won’t hurt forever.

i didn’t know it was possible
to lay in bed shaking with sorrow
and still be able to genuinely smile
through the silent tears falling down my face

my eyes were finally opened
to what honest-to-goodness love is
when i knew i couldn’t be selfish with you,
because although my bones ache for us to work,
i want to put your heart before mine

it’s difficult coming to the realization
that you’re just a step in the right direction
and not my journey’s end

you’d expect this to hurt
and it does,
i’m still wiping away
the sadness from my eyes

but it’s okay,
the hurting is helping
because i know i grow in pain

there’s no doubt in my mind
that you loved me with your whole heart,
you painted a picture on my soul
that depicts how i deserve to be treated

i’m not bitter
because i know through all of this
i’m coming out better

I’m standing here, thinking of you, while the
wind blows through my hair and the sea creeps
ashore to kiss my toes. The scent of salty
ocean air is soothing, but the ache of
missing you lingers still. I can see the
sun setting in the distance. The soft
oranges and yellows remind me that endings
can be beautiful, no matter how much I
wish the sun would stay just a little while
longer. As the sky begins to fade to a
somber shade of blue, I close my eyes and
allow my mind to focus on the white
noise of crashing waves, praying
that when I open them, the sun will have
risen, and you will be standing here beside me.

i don’t know how someone as small as me
with bones that break at the sight of heat lightning
and heart strings that thread apart at the sound of his voice
could make anyone feel like the sun shines brighter
through kaleidoscope eyes—
you’re okay if it brings out the freckles on your face,
and you feel good, you feel alive
you say i showed you how to love in a new way,
that i taught you to be so much more okay with your tummy,
“it’s been very freeing and life is a lot better, thank you,”
but i feel like i can’t say you’re welcome
because i am a messy cliché of imperfect scraps and hypocrisy
loosely sewn together with
“you are strong you are strong you are strong,”
but i feel so weak i feel so weak i feel so weak
and i am not steady hands, they shake like
wet dogs after kiddy pool baths,
i am flower seeds that forgot how to bloom,
trapped below the surface of a garden that feels like quicksand
and i’m sorry but you don’t see all the mistakes i make,
all the words i’ve preached that look back at me
and laugh when they see
what i feel, what i think, who i am behind closed doors,
i’m sorry.
you keep hanging medals around my neck, and
they’re so heavy, and i don’t know
what to say besides i love you
when you speak words of adoration,
but please do not praise me, i am not good.

i've recently come
to the heart-shattering conclusion
that i do not
and never did
love you

i only loved
how you made me feel
on lonely nights

you behaved as if i put
the starts in the sky
the leaves on trees
the petals on roses
the fish in the sea

i loved it when you told me
you'd always be there

you lied when you said
you'd never let go of my hand,
and i lied when i told you
my hand was only made for yours to hold

because here i am,
without you by my side
and i think i'm going to be okay

i think i always knew
you'd eventually let go

does your skin ever melt into the mirror
do your palms ever reach the other side
will these reflections ever make sense
ever feel familiar
ever seem right
whole
on purpose

do you find yourself, one day
staring back, unsurprised
thinking, i know her well
able to plaster her on billboards and
not shiver with questioned identity

because i am terrified
i’ll never look like the person
i hope to see when i squeeze my eyes shut

will they ever open

you are the song
i want to listen to
in that cliché and timeless
3am moment on the highway
windows rolled
down with the
potential-filled and empty
yet comforting indigo
sky blowing past,
only car on the road
just us, me with my
feet up on the dash,
fingers interlocked with
yours on my lap,
headlights illuminating
the road and trees
ahead, can’t think about
anything else except
for the pulse of the night
and cold air on my skin
and oh God
this is my life and
i feel so alive

sometimes i call your
number just for a recording
to tell me that it is
no longer i use; you’re
gone and i wish i had the
chance to speak to you
just one more time, but
i know that’s a wish i’ll
waste on shooting stars
for quite awhile

so, i’ll see you in songs and
movies that remind me of you;
old poems, the whispering
wind, and my aching heart

maybe i’ll see your face
on a crowded sidewalk
one day,

or maybe
i’ll never hear from you again

“one day”

i’m so hopeful for one day.

i want to ask you about your past,
but at the same time i don’t
because my stomach becomes
more knotted than my hair
after a long windy day at the beach
when thinking of a you
before me

i try to keep my mind from drifting
to the image of you holding her hand
and gazing into her eyes,
thinking about how her smile
is the reason
you smile

it hurts imagining
there was anyone before me
and i’m sorry,
because i know how unfair that is

i guess i’m just afraid
there was something in her
you’ll notice is lacking
in me

i want to take the bits of you i love
and press them like flowers
between the pages of my favorite book

and i want to take all the scraps
that you dislike in yourself
and display them on my refrigerator
to show you i’m still proud
of the person you are
and the person you are becoming

but most of all, i want to spin you like a globe
and drag my finger across till it stops
to discover the pieces of you
that you’ve yet to reveal to anyone else

i want to wrap them up in linen
and place them in an old cigar box,
i’d tuck it away safely
in the top drawer of my bedside table,
so you know i’ll never let
those pieces of you go

because when you share
hidden parts of yourself
with someone else,
you’re trusting that person
to hold the secret sections
of your heart
and to love the bits
you thought
were unlovable

i’m not sure how artists have the patience
to sculpt marble slabs into gods
or why they feel it’s worth their time

but i do know that
the nights i stay up until 3 a.m. are usually the worst
and the mornings i wake up at 8 a.m. are usually the
best

and that it’s worth the money to buy a decent mattress
instead of losing sleep on fiscal responsibility
and i feel grown-up having wrapping paper in my closet
and extra birthday cards in my desk

and i might always be crazy
always holding on to pieces of the past
tacking them to my bedroom walls
and pretending it’s okay that i still think about it all

but i won’t forget that some people are brave enough
to put on big white suits and fishbowl helmets and leave
their families to go walk on the moon
or that i flew on a plane by myself even though i was
absolutely petrified of being alone in the sky
or that spring exists,
and that winter cannot, and will not, last forever

my mind is filled
with beautiful snapshots
as numerous as the stars,
thousands of which
have illuminated my darkest skies
and lulled me to rest
on restless nights

i have seen
lengths of sorrow quenched
by duvets of summer rain,
oceans of love
poured into empty hearts
and the hope of a new dawn

all i have seen,
all the grace i have held
in my undeserving hands,
all the contagious grins,
all the precious little moments
and moments that have moved mountains,
all the miracles, all the love, all the joy

all of these,
all of the bright colors
that have painted my path thus far,
pale in comparison
to the sun that will rise
above tomorrow’s horizon

what do you do
when you love someone
and you're bursting
to let them know

but you van't
because it's destructive
it's no good for you
and it's no good for me

i can't let go of it
i love you today
and tomorrow
and i love you
past any thought
i could think up

it's wrong though
because you aren't right
you blemish my heart
and leave me with bruises
that will never fade

so what do i do?
because i can't stop
loving you

i asked
what you would wish for
if a genie
granted you three wishes

and none of your wishes
had anything to do
with me

your name is always
on the tip of my tongue
and if you
wrap me in a blanket
and place me by the fire,
in the flames
i'll see your smile,
but if i blink
it'll disappear
because our time
while full, was fleeting
and now you are just
dandelion seeds
in the summer breeze
that will land
in another yard
to make someone else's
wishes come true

afternoon light shining in through the sheer curtains hanging over my bedroom window, on the most ordinary day of the week, your arms were around me and my head was on your chest as it slowly rose and fell, and you twitch as you’re falling asleep, and i never thought i could fall in love with the sound of someone snoring, but your sleepy inhales made my heart swell, and since then, the day has been a series of heavy exhales. i can feel the weight of you behind my ribs and in the corners of my mouth as i smile at the thought of kissing you, your laugh, the way your eyes look when they’re looking at me, the sound of your voice when you’re trying to get music to play in your car, how i feel when i can feel you next to me; i hope you don’t mind, but no matter what time or space is between us, you’ve written your name in the sand of my soul and no amount of wind or waves will ever be able to wash it away. the time we’ve spent together feels like seconds, but you will always exist in my memory as someone who held my hand as i walked into the sun.

it feels like i'm standing
on the edge of a cliff
next to a calm sea
and at any moment
i could slip into the blue abyss

quietly, the water would
burden my lungs
and with my last breath,
i would whisper
"tomorrow will be better."

you are bright eyes
masking gray storm clouds
in your mind
and a heart too big
for the cavity of sadness
that confines it

and you are a bird
trying so desperately
to keep flying
in the pouring rain

♦ ♦

i am the hands
that long to caress your gentle face
and an autumn breeze
seeking to whisk away
your worries

and i am just a girl
praying for a thunderstorm
so that you may have
endless clear skies

i miss you, still
no longer in a deep, aching way,
but rather in the dull hum of my car radio

i hope you smiled today

and while you’re getting swept up
in the excitement and mystery and
passion of this confusing, intriguing,
heartbreaking, beautiful life,

i hope you never forget what is most important

i hope you remember that
it’s not about finding someone to complete
and write sappy poems about,
it’s not about listening to soft music on repeat
with your eyes closed,
wishing you were somewhere else
or someone else,
and it’s not about doing well on exams,
or traveling the world,
or always being artificial sunshine
instead of being real

because it’s okay to have sad days,
and a number in the corner of a page
can’t give you lasting satisfaction,
and you can’t be everyone’s prince charming,
and while music stirs up something
so beautiful inside of us,
you can’t hide in your melancholy world
of D minor, forever

every night i pray that you’re not lost,
that you’re somehow finding your way,
and although
i can’t speak these words to you directly,
i hope you know
i’ll always care

i think the reason
we have such dark, 
worrisome thoughts at night 
is because the empty silence 
found right before sleep 
allows room for anxiety
to creep in and fill the spaces 
between the floorboards 
and peeling wallpaper 
of our bedrooms

that may be why 
when i haven’t spoken to you
in awhile, i forget 
all the good mornings
and five page letters
filled with words
that make my heart melt
like candle wax

i allow doubt to dwell in my soul, 
along with thoughts
like how pitiful it is 
for me to be vacant 
because you’re not here
to occupy my confidence
and reassure me that
time nor interval
will change
how you feel

you told me to take up new hobbies
to distract myself from the pain
you were causing me

you told me to learn origami
so i did
and now my room is crowded
by paper cranes folded each time
your name came to mind

and you told me
to learn how to juggle
so i did
but not in the way
you were talking about

one day
it will be easy to breathe
my lungs will inhale flowers
and honey
it will be second nature
like riding a bicycle
like tying a shoe
like swallowing a pill
and i will hold on
tightly and
with shaking hands
until then

an afternoon accompanied by
rushing water and rustling trees,
the scent of a spruce candle burning,
i recalled that fire is often described as
something unapologetic,
a force that burns through forests
with resilience, and power, and no inclination to look
back; this is something i’ve spent my whole life trying
to be

but i saw myself in the flame of a candle
burning in a different light,
i saw something soft, and warm, and calm
something reborn, consumed
whipping itself back and forth as the wind blows it,
dancing from side to side like an eager child
it makes no effort to keep still
it accepts the movement, the wind, the chaos
and as it lets itself go,
as the wax melts down
slowly
          slowly
                    slowly
it glows.

my stomach is in knots
and i feel so sick thinking about you
holding anyone that isn’t me
and i don’t understand why you thought it’d be a good idea
to tell me that you’re falling asleep at night
with another girl in your bed,
even if you’re not kissing her goodnight,
i tried to drown out my sobs all day with
modern vampires of the city on vinyl,
but it still feels like someone
sunk fangs in my lungs

it’s only been a week, the cuts from your nails
from holding my heart so tight
are still fresh
and i never asked you to stop,
i never told you i wanted to try
to be more than friends again,
i never tried to paint your hands red,
but all you could seem to do is defend
yourself and repeat that you’ve done nothing wrong
“you said we’re just friends
you said we’re just friends
you said we’re just friends”

and we are just friends
i just wanted you to understand and acknowledge
that it still hurts

and you can say you’re sorry, you said sorry,
but i’m sure she’s tucked in beneath your sheets right now
and you’re still repeating in your head
i’ve done nothing wrong
i’ve done nothing wrong
i’ve done nothing wrong
we’re just friends
we’re just friends
we’re just friends

and i’m glad you’re comfortable,
i’m glad you know you’ve done nothing wrong,
i’m glad you have someone to hold at night,
i’m glad thoughts of me don’t rip your heart out,
i’m glad you’re okay with being just friends

i’m glad you’re fine,

but, i’m sorry,
i’m not.

I am slowly learning to disregard the insatiable desire to be special. I think it began, the soft piano ballad of epiphanic freedom that danced in my head, when you mentioned that “Van Gogh was her thing” while I stood there in my overall dress, admiring his sunflowers at the art museum. And then again on South Street, while we thumbed through old records and I picked up Morrissey and you mentioned her name like it was stuck in your teeth. Each time, I felt a paintbrush on my cheeks, covering my skin in grey and fading me into a quiet, concealed background that hummed “everything you’ve ever loved has been loved before, and everything you are has already been,” on an endless loop. It echoed in your wrists that I stared at, walking (home) in the middle of the street, and I felt like a ghost moving forward in an eternal line, waiting to haunt anyone who thought I was worth it. But no one keeps my name folded in their wallet. Only girls who are able to carve their names into paintings and vinyl live in pockets and dust bunnies and bathroom mirrors. And so be it, that I am grey and humming in the background. I am forgotten Sundays and chipped fingernail polish and borrowed sheets. I’m the song you’ll get stuck in your head, but it will remind you of someone else. I am 2 in the afternoon, I am the last day of winter, I am a face on the sidewalk that won’t show up in your dreams. And I am everywhere, and I am nothing at all.

tears are forming in my eyes
because all i can think about
are my bare bedroom walls,
naked and dull
and how when i embraced you
and told you i loved you,
you didn't say it back

everything is in boxes
in my mother’s house
in my father’s house
in the back of my trunk
different things in each of them
books and vinyl
jesus, innocence, mirrors
paintings that my little brother and sister
made for me at school
and i can’t find my journal in any of them
i didn’t used to have to tie strings
around my pinkies
to remind myself to breathe in words
i used to write too much
with ink smears tattooed on the
side of my left hand
i carried it around
******* on my fingers
tasting the poetry drip
from my mouth like sticky mango juice
and people read it
and my muses hated me
and i didn’t even have to try

i'm a scared little girl
with a low self esteem,
but i know You're there
standing right beside me

help me conquer
my countless fears
and allow You to wipe
my worry-filled tears

because holding on
to all my burdens
is such a heavy load

i know i need You,
i know i need
to just let go

It’s been three and a half months since we last spoke,
really spoke, not just guilty hellos
and scattered half-hearted pleas
And it’s not you, it’s never you
it’s me it’s me it’s me,
but you love
me
you love
me
you love
me

And my head has forgotten what it feels like,
but I know my heart is safe with you

Because you’ve never stopped chasing after me
and I’m tired of looking at my feet, telling myself
I’ll be okay without you, trying to navigate
through a thick forest at night,
pretending I don’t have matches at
my fingertips

You are the only thing
that has ever made me feel truly whole

I’m sorry I’ve kept my eyes shut so tight,
but I’m here now and I love you and I miss you

And I don’t want to keep living
like fragments of a person anymore

I’m Yours.

i guess you only like girls who are broken
and want to be hurt, like your hands
around her neck, want
bruises and cuts
in the shape of a heart,
inhaling and choking on your affection
like she needs it to breathe

translucent skin stretched across
veins that pump nicotine and you
you, you, you, you, you

judgement clouded by hyper-dependent
infatuation and the need to heal her
hollowness, although you’ll only ever be
another teardrop on her pillowcase
while she hums herself to sleep
with midnight lies

“the loss of you would be the loss of my life”

and the saddest part
is that i almost let myself fall
back into becoming that
lifeless, empty girl
once more because i thought it might
make you love me again.

i hate that i’m lying in bed
with a cup of tea
and can see myself in the future
in our bed
with a cup of tea
and you lying next to me

and i hate that i can see myself turning out the light
and laying my head to rest
on your chest

i hate that i can see us sitting at a little round kitchen table
next to the window
you in your black rimmed glasses
scrolling through your phone
me with my hair ******* and one knee draw up to my chest,
eating a bowl of oatmeal as the sun creeps its way
into the middle of the sky

i hate that i can see us side by side
brushing our teeth in a cramped bathroom
in front of a foggy mirror,
listening to music as we get ready for the day

i hate that i can see us walking out the front door,
i hate that i can see us kissing goodbye

because i’m lying in bed
with a cup of tea
thinking about all of this,
thinking about you

yet i’ve already kissed you
goodbye.

darling girl,
why do you cry yourself to sleep every night
praying for someone
to come along and give you love,
to stay up with you till three in the morning
and listen attentively
as you list off all of your
passions, worries, burdens
to be envious of your attention
to kiss your forehead
and hold you without judgement
to be there for you
when you feel alone
to assure you everything will be okay
and remind you
that every sunrise and crashing wave
is a chance to make things right

when I’m right here
waiting for you with open arms,
ready to replenish
every empty space in your heart
because although you’re imperfect
and you hate the way
your front tooth is slightly crooked

I see you perfectly

darling girl,
why haven’t you opened your eyes to realize
that I’ve been here for you
all along

i am envious
of what you have,
but not
of who you are

regardless,
it withers me

instead of watching
your garden grow, even if
i find it
utterly dull;

perhaps,
i should start digging up
the earth in my own,
neglected plot

and observe
what becomes

i’m in a constant battle with reality and pretend
with who i am, who i want to be,
and who i wish i could be

with picking up the pieces, painting portraits of something
strong, something whole,
something to be proud of
and shattering crystal vases on wooden floors

while smiling, without blinking
with seeing just how far i can run away from myself
without forgetting myself

i lie in my bed, and i sip my tea
and it feels like the rain outside is going to
swallow me whole

and i’m happy
and i’m sad
and i’m panicked
and i’m trapped
and i’m everything
and i’m scared

and the sky is dark
blue and the night is
so dizzy

          and so am i

and i’ve forgotten how to exist

i feel trapped inside of my feverish skin
and i wish i could escape it,
because i don't want to be myself today

i don't know why i'm so different,
why i feel so lonely and tired of living

yesterday, i was so happy and hopeful,
inspired and alive
i lit candles and sang along to the radio
and grinned and felt completely intact
but today, i'm in pieces
i feel hollow and meaningless
i don't get why my feelings change so quickly

it's like once i've wrapped my arms
around them, the wind picks them up
and carries them away, leaving me
with a heart full of unfamiliar emotions

i don't understand,
i just wish
i could figure myself out
sometimes