call me an architect with shaking
hands, building buildings built
to crumble --
     if that what it takes to
     keep you, so be it;
     i'll find you in the rubble

he likes to call me dollface

and i let him unravel my threads,
because i'm not quite porcelain like he seems
to think - more so a rag doll, yarn for
hair, buttons for eyes, soft and
easy.

we started as a series of stolen things:
glances, secrets, moments in a walk-in freezer,
and i keep wondering how that all led us
here, stealing time as
he lights a bowl and i
dance circles in his living room

all the while he is watching
like he is in a museum, and i am
art behind a glass to
stare at, never
touch

he reaches out and falls short,
calls me over but never follows through,
pulls my threads and
sews me up again
each time
he calls me
dollface

i.
your hand on my elbow,
shoulder, wrist, and i
pretend not to
notice

ii.
you sing quietly on the
way home, like maybe i won't
hear you but
i always do

iii.
call me doll, and that's
okay,
i can be yours to
play with

iv.
we smoke together for the
first time, and you blow
rings, and i dance
for you

v.
chew me up, spit me
out, it's fine just as long as you
don't watch me clean my
messes

vi.
you mention your girlfriend's
name and i
crumble

i.
i spent my nights writing wishes into
paper cranes after we broke down, a repetition
of ink to paper - fold, press, release -

your name, your name, your name,
became habit every time i picked up the pen

ii.
when i dream of walking through
haunted houses, i hear voices through the
open windows, i swear it is you saying
come home, baby, come home. 

a draft cuts through each whisper and i pretend
it is your breath on my neck,
that your hands will follow, but when i turn
it is only the breeze from a crane beating its wings.

iii.
when it storms, the dock we used to
share secrets on floods - my fingers scratch
at my thighs like i am picking apart the wooden planks,
my skin splinters in all the places i have ever
been touched by you.  

i fold myself into a ship and sail where you can't
follow

we lounge in the backseat to
wait out the rain.

your fingers still against my
thigh, grapefruit juice drips down my chin,
and we stare ahead like this is
what we were meant for --

you pack another bowl, lana sings
on, jazzy and sweet, and i

i overflow

i hear the phone ring when
it doesn't, the door open
when it's locked, the
light switch flip when
it's off and i turn around and
look for you
still

we go out after the first storm
like explorers in new terrain, and
these steps are gentle and uncertain,
this world is new.
it is still grey but you point to a patch
of sun between the clouds and say,
that's what you look like beside
everyone else and i used to think
i stuck out like a **** in the midst of flowers
but you make me feel like i am a butterfly
amongst unchanging caterpillars.
a gust of wind pushes rain drops off the
tree leaves - they cling to your mouth like
fresh dew or sweat beads, and i
want to kiss them clean

your hands are a double edged
sword, but i am learning
how to lace my skin with steel
and you can not
cut me
any
more

we are to big for this space

there must be some law or
science that says it isn't possible
for us to fill the same air, and yet
here we are again, breathing
into each other's worlds,
inhalations of new life, exhales of
little deaths and

we are defying every rule we were told,
every promise we made to stay away,
every regulation made for our own good

it is dangerous and explosive and beautiful

she tells me i am
magnificent
and when she
looks at me the
way she does,
for a moment,
i feel like it

i keep thinking about the way
your fingers don't leave bruises on
my hips the way they used do

when did you stop trying to hold
on so tight? when did you stop
trying?

benjamin tells me that
i should take my anxiety and
hold it away for a while,
let the restlessness build up
and then channel the overwhelming
into a sense of euphoria,
my own twisted high

and i don't know how, but
i will try my best for him,
i will try my best,
i will try

i used to have all the words
in the world
at the tips of my fingers,
waiting to be written
down or maybe even
touched to my lips
to be sung

have i said all there
is to be said?

it feels like we have been
moving away from each other,
there is more space
between the pillows and sheets,
i am forgetting what the tips
of your fingers feel like
(even when they are on me)

slow down with me, grant
i want to breathe with you,
i want to be with you

untuck your shirt,
lay your head down,
stop running to
whatever is next,
the future is not now,
be here again, be
now again, be mine
again

it seems like time is tearing us
apart

i am reaching out to you from a
different dimension, from ten years from
now, or two years ago
and i look like nothing but a ghost

be quiet, and maybe
you will
hear me

i am not my
mother's daughter or
my sister's shadow
or my family
name,
none of that is
enough to
contain me or
portray me any
more

your bones fit into the holes
of mine , and maybe it hasn't always
been that way, but we've collided enough
times that i have invented craters just
for you, so, please,
don't leave them empty

i want you to tell
me that none of this
matters,
that one day i will
be okay, someday soon
i'll forget about pain

grant,
i was not tired of
running until
the first time
you held my
hand and said
its okay,
be still,
be quiet,
be brave

with you,
time moves
slowly

and i
let
it

(i am tired of being
the part of your song that
cannot be finished)

      -- my hands get cold
      quickly, so take them please,
      tell me you'll love me
      for one more night and
      i'll ******* like i
      believe it,
      i'll do you a favor and
      pretend it never happened
      come morning if you
      pretend that you need me
      for now--

will you not write me
down because you're scared,
or because you don't
know how?

i hate katie
for making you
cry, and i
hate your mom
for making
you feel like
you deserved
what you got,
but mostly,
i hate that
you and i
are so far
apart, that
i've become
your last -
resort call

i want to
be your best
friend again

i wish you didn't
treat me right,
because i'm so
******* tired
of loving you
more than you
love me

i am licking
last night's prayers
off of my lips
and hoping that
this can
still be made
right

she says
you have become
so good at
rationalizing your
fears
that you've come
to a place where
you're not even
realizing when
you have a chance
if you would just
try

and i started to
think
what if i never
become
more than
seventy-five percent
of what i could
be

i have burned bridges
and put out their fires with
bare hands, tried to make
something of the ashes
because i always thought
moving forward was the
best way to deal until
i wasn't able to go back

my mother tells me to
choose wisely, and
i don't know if it's wise,
but there is no choice-

my answer will always be
you

i         had         a
dream last night
that     you     fell
in      love     with
someone        else
and     i    realized
that  i  don't want
to      spend     the
rest        of       my
life    scared   that
i  might  lose  you

i         want        to
spend    that  time
waking             up
next      to       you,
seeing               the
world    with   you,
learning    how   to
grow   old  bravely
with                 you

and       i      guess  
what    i'm  trying
to         say         is

marry              me

i feel like the
world is both
too big and
too small

i am being
swallowed whole,
but i have no
place to run,
nowhere to go

he says
you're worth
everything
and he
kisses me
like he
believes
it

i can't remember
what it's like to sleep in sheets
that don't smell like you

the day we went to the aquarium
was the day i decided to let myself fall
in love with you, and by 11:54 that
night i was practically suffocating
under the weight of words i did not
know how to say, so i simply took your
hands in mine and hoped that you
could read between the songs that i
whispered as you fell asleep.

we aren't much older
now, but wiser nonetheless,
and i have figured it out

i want to live my life slow
and sweet, high on your couch,
lana del rey on repeat

i am scared
you will tire
of hearing
me say
'i love
you'

the boy you love is in your bed and
he is shaking

you wonder if it will always be like this,
tremors through his arms and legs, or if this
is only because he is wrapped in sheets that
smell like someone else.  so you offer him a bowl,
partly to calm him down but mostly because
when he takes a drag he cups his hands and
bows his head and it looks to you like he is
praying and his hands are still shaking and you
wonder if he has faith in anything and if not
maybe that thing could be you

so you clime beside him and you inhale as
he exhales and for a moment he is
                                                                                          still

the boy you love is in your bed and
you are shaking

kissing you felt like
swallowing fire, like drowning
in thin air, like causing an earthquake
under just my skin

and it was perfect

and it goes like this:
one day you will look at me
and tell me i'm beautiful like
you always do and i will
not be able to take it anymore

i've been trying hard not to
be in love with you like i know i always
have been, because since day one
i never wanted to just ******* or lie to you
or push you away

i just
wanted
you

beautiful you, with
your quirked eyebrow and your
mother's nose and your love of
stormy afternoons and most recently
me

(i think about you all the time)
you tell me, like i don't understand
but one day you will learn that
i have written hundreds of lines of
poetry about you and i hope that they
will make you
smile

like any
narrator,
i'm obsessed
with being
some one
else.

every wall of this house reminds me
of you-

reminds me that you are 591 miles
away, and i haven't heard from you
for seventeen days, and i am beginning
to worry

before you left we sat on the
couch and i asked you to promise
me you would stay alive.
when i held out my pinkie you couldn't
take it, and i always tried to make sure
you'd never see me cry, but i couldn't
stand the thought of living
around your ghost and i guess i just
                                                   lost it

there is a cold spot on the sofa and
i wonder if it is you

it is summer again, and
we are getting high underneath
the tanglewood bridge

our shoulders stick together
with sweat, one of us coughing,
inexperienced, the other
laughing

it is summer again, and
i don't remember a day when i
didn't want to spend
all my time with
you

you took every
fear i had about
inadequacy
and turned them
from mountains to
speed bumps,
reminding me
to slow down,
but never stop

i want to cut myself
open, and pour out every
word i thought about
telling you but never did

and stitch myself
up without anyone's help,
and clean away everything
i have depended on to fill
empty spaces, and replace it
with something new

i want to paint over my
wounds so that i don't have
to be reminded of what
i went through to get here

i want to be beautiful without
you, i want to be courageous

i want to glitter
like dust does in
sunlight

you said
i heard that when
people are in love,
their hearts beat in sync
and you squeezed
my fingers
where my  pulse
raced in time with
yours

i am trying
to convince myself
that we are
immortal

i've been thinking about
how your favourite word
is ephemeral because
everything in your life
is so ******* fleeting

and i don't want to be
that way too