The words I can’t say to you are
climbing up my throat
I keep forgetting to breathe
I miss your hands.

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.

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.

Trees of emerald and expectations,
taking root in dirt and damnation,
grow fruits flowing full of flirtation.

Children complain of chapped lips,
clinging to women's waning hips
as drunkards are in dire need of one last fix.

Suffering stomachs grumble
and morose mouths mumble
of a society that continues to crumble:

Demanding water of a well they dried,
without any tears, the people cried
for their way of life had died

in a world governed by greed,
while the people bleed
blood of toil and seed.

But power is now paper green,
and the forlorn farms stay pristine
while the people are lying in between
dying
and
death.

I should’ve realized it
when you told me
that you didn’t know
if you were in love with me,
yet you had no problem
with saying
I love you
over and over
again.

I used to pray that I’d never be loved by
anyone I couldn’t love back,
but then I remembered how many mountains
I grew strong enough to climb when
you didn’t love me back
and I realized that
there’s no use in praying for
the absence of pain
because it will always find you
whether it be through sunburn or aching silence
and broken bones grow back stronger
so I won’t pray you’ll never get hurt
I’ll pray you clean out the cuts on your
elbows and learn to not pick at
the scabs on your knees
and that you’ll stand up more times
than the wind knocks you down
And that you’ll find ways to appreciate
the circles beneath your eyes, but
still hold onto the hope that one day
you will count your scars and smile because
you are proud of how far you’ve come
and how much you’ve grown, and
you’re not just surviving, you are alive.

when i asked if he had any tattoos, he said
not yet. but if i do, it’ll be to do with God or you.

it has been
76 days
since he
scratched
out
my name
from
his heart
and moved
onto
you

it’ll be to do with God or you.

i wonder if that line gave you butterflies, too.

I am the same as
My empty sandbox

I have nothing new to say
You're still same when as when you saved me
I'll come to you contritely
I have so much on my mind
and it feels like I'm trying
to access it all at once and it's tiring.
I'm weary but restless
I notice every bit of discomfort that can usually just ignore
It's like I think I'm supposed to be cold but I'm sticky and sweaty
I never was able to talk to you without some sort of agenda, always wanting another song or testimony.


Medicate me
Close my tired eyes
Help me see you
Just let me realize.



The same irritating set of melodies is stuck in my head
Melodies that I used to like
Turns out too much disease makes you hate the treatment

Now I'm starting to feel tired
But I still cannot repose
Or maybe I can
I think I'll try now
Goodbye



No
I can't seem to find repose
And I wish that I knew why
Is it the song stuck in my head
The describes you and I?

is it the way my pillow hurts my ears
the pressing silence of what is soon to be a year

It's been nine months
Since that first night
When you stole my sleep
With your beautiful eyes
They tear through this world
That dampens my mind
All the words I've held inside
I've been deprived
by your demulcent smile
That hurts my empty heart