i want to be
allowed to
kiss the
tips of your
fingers and
trace your
collarbones
with my
tongue

i am growing
older
still

(for i have
carried
on)

imagine: there are two bodies floating
at the top of the lake, and you know them
by name-  one is the girl who has always
loved you, and the other is the girl you
have always loved, even though she tells you
she could never love you back. both are
drowning, do you save one, or do you
drown too?

we have listened to the
same three albums over
fifty times, and i am
running out of way to
avoid telling you the truth

you make me
happy** he
said, and i
fell asleep
smiling

i read that astronauts
can tell from outer
space which cities are
newly built because
electricians are making
streetlights out of
sodium vapor now as
opposed to mercury,
so now road outlines
glow orange

and newer cities tend
to be more geometrically
planned, all straight
edges and such, while
older cities are made up
of frantic curves and
corners

and i wonder if i look
to you like i have been
worn and used, am i
frenzied and dull, or
am i new?  maybe my
jagged lines have
been sanded and smoothed

maybe
i still
glow

i find myself
inching
nearer to
you,

with every
day, hour,
minute
i am almost
there but
never
close
enough

i am scared to find the
person i'll have to become
when you're not around
any
more

(so
much
of
me
is
you)

some days,
i let myself
love you a
little too
much

i want to walk
the same shores
odysseus did,

i want to be
important like
him, i want to

be important like,
i want to be

important

i'm not sure if it
is selfish to say,
or if i deserve to
say this after
all this time, but

i love you,
i love you

i'm not sure if we
are victims of
circumstance
or blessed by
coincidence

i worry about him all
the time*
i told you and
you shook your head like
you knew all too well

eleven nights later,
you tell me to get some
sleep, you say i worry about
you all the time

and i'm starting to think
it's code for people who
are trying to say 'i love you'
to someone who doesn't
love them back

i am done with being
strong; i am not an earthquake
or a hurricane, and this is not
natural, just a disaster

i want to collapse,
i want to relax,
i want to relapse

you said-
thinking about the stars
makes me feel so small

but we sat there 'til we
were shaking in the cold,
and i had never felt
bigger.

and i wish i knew
how to love you
back

the problem is that none of
them are you; i don't know if
that's how love works, or if
this is just fear

i don't know if i am proud that he
loved me first or jealous because he
liked you last.  some selfish part of
me still hopes that when i see him next
he will tell me that it's always been
me, even though i know i'd be too
scared to say it to him, and he deserves
better than that. i thought maybe
you could be that for him, but you
left too, and honestly, i'm furious
that you're not coming back

i am so shattered--
parts of me are
2159 miles away
and i am scared
they will never
come back

i want to know the story
behind every freckle on your
back and ever scar on your
hands, i want to know how
they stuck with you and i want
to know the story of how
i stuck with you too

i turned away so i wouldn't
have to watch you leave, but
i heard your car start and
i panicked

how do i breathe without you,
how do i breathe without,
how do i breathe?

if i'm being honest with myself,
i am always scared

i am scared that someday i will trip in the
school hallway with everyone around, and
i am scared that my family will stop being able
to take care of ourselves. i am
scared that a third world war will erupt and
it will start two streets down the road from me
and end in my front yard

i am scared that one day i'll convince myself
that nobody really loves me, and, even worse, that
nobody will be around to tell me otherwise. and
i am scared that i'll drown at camp this summer
and i'm scared that if i don't, i will want to

i'm scared of needles and feet and airplanes
and on especially bad nights, i am afraid of the dark.

mostly i'm afraid that i will never stop living my
life on the brink of a panic attack, that i will always
back down from a fight, that i will never learn
to speak for myself, and i am scared that i will never
become anything more than this

when all your scars
fade, will you pretend
you never had them
in the first place?

i wish i could figure out the
person you've become so i could
stop expecting the old you
to show up at my door.

(by now it would feel
like seeing a
ghost)

i learned that sounds
travel faster through solids
than air, so press
your mouth to my skin,
tell me stories of the places
you were scared to have
been, i'll try my best to
understand, and with all that i am,
i will listen

his fingers dance across
my shoulder blades and down
my arm until they reach my
hands, where they trace patterns
on my palm

you're safe with me, i
swear, he says

                             and i believe him

your mind is a forest, and i
want to carve my initials
onto every tree

i.
no matter what your teachers
may tell you, your grades are not a
measure of how smart you are, that
has more to do with how you handle your
heart, and i have never seen anyone love
more fiercely or smart than you.  

ii.
i have let boys touch me just because
i was scared to lose them; don't let them
lay a hand on you without you asking
them to, you are worth more than that.

iii.
people will walk away, but you've known
that already.  keep your chin up so that when
they turn back one last time, they know that
you don't need them.
you don't need them.

iv.
i hope you find somebody that holds your
hands, even when you're nervous and
they start to sweat.  if they pull away,
you come find me and i swear,
i won't let go.

i wish i could love you
gently, but the beating in my
chest is echoing like a choir
through cathedral halls
and i don't know how to think
about you quietly

(maybe, if there is a god, he
meant for our song to be
heard by heaven)

i'd rather you hold
my heart too tightly
than not at
all

i don't need photos to
remember you;
you are burned
onto my
heart

when i was a kid, i pretended i could
breathe underwater so that if i was
ever caught in a wave for too long
i wouldn't panic- but now my hands are
shaking and i can feel my lungs getting tight
and my ear drums are starting to pound, and
these ceilings are
crushing
me.

you're sister said i seemed
different* and he sighs when
i tell him *not different,
just sad

there is a small silence as he
loads up his truck, and when he is
not looking, i say

*but i guess, for you, that means
different

you said that i
can do better, and i
hope that by better,
you meant
you

i wish my hands didn't shake
every time you say my name,
but i am only
human

your sadness is not
beautiful, but your
scars are gorgeous

they are epics across
your skin that tell the
story of how you, just like
all great heroes,
survived

he tells me he is reaching
his breaking point
(and) he sighs,
(and) he looks away,
(and) i want to reach out to him
to touch his hand, shoulder,
knee

but i am afraid he will
shatter

(when icarus fell
did he have time
to cry out?  or did
he fall without
warning or grace?)

the thing about addiction
is that a person
can be rid of it for
years, then relapse at any
moment of exposure
to their poison

(and this is what loving
you feels like)

my biggest fear is that i will
stop wanting to become more
than the person i already am

(i will not settle for just getting by
any longer; i want to be
magnificent)

i.
some days are more
worth living than
others; today is not
one of those days

ii.
your words stay pinned
on my mirror, and i
don't know if i am
keeping them there to
torture myself
or to remind myself
that i should stay
alive

iii.
i used to be okay,
and i don't know how
i ever was that way
or how to get back

iv.
you used to draw maps me
on my arms; nobody knew where
they went except for
you

v.
i want go where
you do, but i don't know
how to find you

i heard that women tend to
tell lies more often than men,
but when they to, it's to build
other people up, while men usually
lie to make themselves look better

so at midnight, when you said
that you loved me, and i told you
that i loved you too, which one
of us was really in the wrong?

a year ago
you told me
that i am
filled with
lightning

(i
finally
believe
you)

i  don't want  to live in  the
                            s p a c e s
between   your   words,   i
want to be  found in every
syl-
                    la-
                                     ble

it's not that
i still love you,
it's just that
i don't yet know
how to be
around you without
reaching out
for your
hand

what was real at the start
doesn't matter any more;
in the end, we're all
imaginary

i am tired of being
scared to fight for
what i want, but i
am too tired of
being rejected
to fight for
you.

i think maybe i only love you because
you're older, because you have large hands
that have held more than mine ever will

(or maybe it is because instead of choosing to
hold the world, you chose to hold me)

have you ever loved
someone so much it
hurts? i can't explain
to you what it's like
but i hope one day
you can love me the
same

my street has been
dark for a while, but
now that there are
lights on every porch,
this neighborhood feels
a lot less empty
and i've been thinking that
maybe it'd be okay now
for you to come
home