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Sep 2019 · 433
tuesday
Megan Grace Sep 2019
i can’t teach you to
love yourself,
but i wish i could
teach you to see
yourself the way i
see you. if you could
see the way you glow,
feel the radiance of
your heart when you
enter a room. you
would never question
it, never question it.
just a small thought from a day of feeling small.
Nov 2018 · 539
Mag
Megan Grace Nov 2018
Mag
i think my soul
knew you before
my mind did. as
if all the **** i went
through was just
paving stones and
concrete, just
making sure i had
the right foundation
for you.
how many
coincidences are
too many coincidences?
i really couldn’t tell you.
but there is a softness i
feel in my rib cage that
i’ve never felt before,
like all those weeds i
thought i’d been growing
in there were actually
just a prairie for the
yarrow and the anise
you’ve wound around my heart.
thank you for holding me so gently
May 2018 · 685
Mark Anthony
Megan Grace May 2018
most sunny afternoons
i could swear i hear you
from behind me with a
hey, dewdrop or a
how you doin’ today, mim
and i think when i turn i’ll
see you walking up, tall
and gangly with a hat on
and your big smile. but it’s
always
just a breeze through my hair,
always
just the warmth of a spring
day on my face.
mom says it’ll get easier, says
we should all keep believing
that it’s you in those moments,
reaching out from some far off
intangible place in the only ways
you can.
he just wants to see you smile,
baby girl.

so i’m trying to reach back in
the ways i think you would if
this had been the other way
around and i hope you see me,
hope you can feel my love
floating up to wherever you
are. i hope you’re proud of me.
we lost my stepdad a few months ago after a very hard and courageous battle with brain cancer. every day feels like another step i’m taking from him, but it’s getting easier. slowly but surely.

sorry i’ve been gone so long.
Nov 2017 · 911
06.27.03
Megan Grace Nov 2017
you are a ****, she said
she
she
she
she said, *you are a ****
.
i have scraped knees and
a quickly bruising elbow,
a finger to my lips and a
dinosaur washrag dripping
onto my thigh.
but, grandma, she said-
there is a calming, silencing
tone to the thumb wiping
my face clean, a soft smile.
even gardeners mistake the
new, stray trees on their
fence lines sometimes, meg.
11/10/17 -- from my journal

my grandma told me this story the other day, when i came to her with some self doubt. she told me to "always be a tree even if you aren't supposed to be one."
Sep 2017 · 979
fall
Megan Grace Sep 2017
“i was born to make biscuits”
and so we let him.
flour, butter, one egg, messiest
table in the hole entire county.
mom watches bug and the boys
roll in the leaves outside, and
greg and i drink coffee by the fire
in thick socks and knitted throws.
a burst of the season arrives with
each sibling but we smile anyway,
kisses and cold hands pressed on
our warm cheeks until we're all
the same temperature. pop's biscuits
are done, so we sit and don't say
grace- just thank each other for
the things we have which no one
else could have given us. mom's
already missing the birds, and
wendy says she thinks she found
one of katy's old hats in the back
of her garage last month and she
even brought it with her this time.
we talk and we laugh and the little
boys nap and we just are.
we just are.
10/23/16

i haven't seen my family in a long time. this is all i can think of right now.
Sep 2017 · 1.0k
selby, north yorkshire
Megan Grace Sep 2017
orange soda, fizzy tongue,
creamsicle smiles.
we lived in sync, there,
with an ocean breathing
between us.
i would have swallowed
the sun if it could have
helped cool you down

but i wanted to burn
god, how i wanted to burn.
6/13/17
from my journal
Sep 2017 · 1.1k
k.d.f.
Megan Grace Sep 2017
i think i am spread across
c o n s t e l l a t i o n s
my heart on too many suns
to keep track now.
if home is where
your heart is then my home
is in missouri

so we keep begging the sky
to give us one day together,
tie bedsheets in a line headed
west and east like we're
going to stretch across the
atlantic one of these days.
i swear some mornings
when it's quiet i can hear
a buzzing inside my chest
and i've known for a while
it was you. but how do
i whisper that across a
static line, to your face as
small as the screen on my
phone? we deserve much
better moments than
we've been allowed.
this has been in my drafts since march and i still don't think it'll ever be finished.

if you're reading this, i miss you.
Jul 2017 · 626
pleader
Megan Grace Jul 2017
i want to
breathe
fire but i
fear i've
spent too
much time
drinking ice
water.
i think i'm running out of things to say.
Jul 2017 · 840
.23.
Megan Grace Jul 2017
i sit on the
cold floor
of the shower,
just me and
myself, and
i tell her there
are good things
in the world.
aren't there? i
know there is
a reason she
and i have made
it this far.
there are
beautiful things,
megan,
beautiful things.
Jun 2017 · 1.2k
june 28, 2002
Megan Grace Jun 2017
paint fingers,
jelly mouths,
katie's teletubbies
bike helmet.
mom said
now don't go too far
and the park was just
far enough to not be
able to see the house
but close enough to
smell dinner being made
and hear dad mowing
the front yard. no
skinned knees this day
just riding our bikes
through the grass,
down the big hill
that made us scream
until the bottom. wind
blowing through katie's
hair, too long then from
her refusal to have it
trimmed even one inch,
and capri sun's under
the weeping willow tree.
before the sun went all
the way to her bed, we
made flower crowns
from the dandelions,
picked an extra handful
for the dining table,
waved to donna as we
flew down the sidewalk,
ran hand in hand to the door
before dad had to call our
names one more time.
"want to meet up soon for lunch?"
Apr 2017 · 1.4k
I.
Megan Grace Apr 2017
I.
i am trying to remind myself that
i am the one who has always held
my skin together on the worst days,
the one who has sewed myself back
up time and time again. i have picked
my own body off the bathroom floor
more 4am's than there are numbers,
taken myself to bed. no one has cared
for me like i have cared for me and
yet i don't know when i stopped
thinking i was my own home.
i'm trying, i swear.
Apr 2017 · 1.3k
stella
Megan Grace Apr 2017
i do not know how to love
softly,
i walk across this ocean like
i am from heaven
but my feet keep slipping through
the surface,
roughly
i try to hold my bones inside my body
but i have gotten used to the way
they look on the outside,
quietly
i hold my own heart with my hands
because i cannot trust anyone else but,
tightly
too too tight.
but do not tell anyone, megan
do not tell anyone.
i wish i could have loved you,
softly.
Apr 2017 · 1.3k
lune
Megan Grace Apr 2017
but what do you do when you're
a shell
a shell
a shell
of the being you used to be
i swear i thought i was the world
now i look at my hands and i
don't know them
don't know these freckles or those lines
i remember i used to tell my reflection
that she was strong and deserved
something good
but i don't know those eyes anymore
so how can i tell that to a stranger
tell them they're loved
how can i when she and i are all we have
and i don't love her
i'm not sure how much longer i can do this ****
Feb 2017 · 828
Side A, Track 1
Megan Grace Feb 2017
i wish i was in the u.s.
we live for these moments
where time is not too             far
ahead     or     behind,
when we whisper across
w a v e s  and  p a s t u r e s
that the only place we
see ourselves in five
years is rings and creaky
floors,    maybe    a cat
(
maybe  t w o ,  love*)
and an old couch from
a thrift store in
leeds. this is the
time when you sing to
me all the songs we're
now calling  "O  U  R  S,"
and we make some kind
of playlist up for the rainy
days when you say you
feel unsettled and grace
is the only thing
holdingyoutogether.
there is comfort in
knowing that our feet
touch the same earth
day          after         day
step              after     step,
that we have no choice
but to only    keep
going    until we are
toe-to-toe,
heart-to-heart.
Past Lives -- Børns
Feb 2017 · 956
katie diane
Megan Grace Feb 2017
when i was little i wanted to grow up
to be a tree, did i ever tell you that?
there was an oak tree next to my house
and i loved her like she had given me
my skin, used to plant tulips at her feet
and sing to her on the coldest days
of winter so she would know i hadn't
forgotten about her as soon as the first
day got shorter. i thought if i breathed
with her long enough i would learn to
be tall, learn to be sturdy, learn that wind
is nothing but a momentary nuisance.
i would stand at her base and let the sun
that rippled through her leaves paint
freckles on my nose while i reached my
arms up toward the clouds like vines,
thought i could bend and stretch and make
a home for the birds and the butterflies.

my dad always told me there is no such
thing as something that is too far away.
there are always cars, always boats and
trains and ladders. if you want something
bad enough
, he would say, distance
doesn't exist
. but an ocean. but an ocean.

sometimes i think i could feel you in my
fingertips before i knew you. like when
i was stretching up to the endless sky,
you were pulling from somewhere else. i
wonder if the me who wanted to be a home
for the earth knew she'd grow up to want
to be a home for you.
"fate is a *****"
Oct 2016 · 1.7k
strawberry rhubarb
Megan Grace Oct 2016
we have wandered to these parts
(yeah, 'these parts,' mim, that's what
we call that here in kansas
)
because you said this was the only
place the sky could almost touch you
if you stretched your fingers far enough.
when we reach the top of the hill
you climb up on a rock that seems
impossible, shout nasty words
because you don't think anyone can
hear you way up here. the sun
starts to slip toward the horizon
and you turn to me with a pink
reflection in your eyes, tell me to
reach my hands up until i can't
reach any further.
oh, this is a good one. you feel that? you feel that?
i look at you, your arms far above
your head and eyes closed, your
skin honey colored in this light.
*yeah. yeah i can.
journal archive #2
Aug 2016 · 1.5k
sugarcane
Megan Grace Aug 2016
orange marmalade
gooey on our fingertips,
sweet on your lips. i say
i could spend all day feeding
you toast and honey but no
no only cookies you tell me.
the warmth from behind your
knees runs through my thighs
and i think i could get used to
the way the sun turns your
skin as golden as your heart.
journal archive #1
Aug 2016 · 781
6.15.15
Megan Grace Aug 2016
outside,
the evening tries to paint freckles over our
skin until the light starts to dip
low behind the trees.
we sit on the steps of the front porch
and greg says
well you'll never find yourself someone if you
don't learn to be a bit more ambitious
.
the sun melts across the
skyline while mom slaps him with a gregory
wayne you leave her alone
in that
i-have-raised-six-children-and-i'm-tired
tone only she has.
it feels like something is stirring deep
inside me. like there is a
current building in my stomach and rising
toward my lips with each pressed back i'm
gay i'm gay i'm gay
but i tamp that down,
instead tell him i feel like i'm boiling because
that's somehow more normal.
just what's causing that in ya?
my hum is eaten by dad stepping out on
the porch, lighting a cigarette and filling the
empty section of my step.
pop i think this one's a little different.
i worry i have waited too long to tell.




this has been in my drafts for a very long time.
Jul 2016 · 897
blackberry season
Megan Grace Jul 2016
we let these valleys run deep
in our veins with no questions
anymore. it has become second
nature to know these winds,
to hear the song the leaves sing
before a storm rolls over the
hills on the other side
of the county.

i always thought my
eighteenth year would be
the last i would know the
rustle of the pampas grass
in the early morning or the
way the snow settles deep
over everything beyond our
property. now twenty-three
draws nearer quicker than
a younger version of me
could have ever imagined
and i feel it tightening in
my chest with each passing
day, that small town desire
to find the things i've been
left out of for two decades.

mama used to say i had
the universe in my bones,
told me she thought i
would explode from it, said
just yesterday that there is
a longing inside me that
she doesn't think will ever
be tamed. i never thought
the midwest sun could hold
me, yet i keep bowing at her
feet, keep begging her to
swallow me. maybe if i stay
a while longer it will be
enough to carry with me.

i wonder how much home
i can soak up before i go.
May 2016 · 1.1k
#973
Megan Grace May 2016
i remember we were dripping gold,
streaming from our fingertips,
and i thought this
must be what it feels like to be
free.
hello, everybody.
Feb 2016 · 1.4k
sixteen
Megan Grace Feb 2016
when the river ran
out i wrapped up
what i had left of
the plasma in my
veins and carried
it from city to city
from high hill to
deep valley until
i saw something
that looked like
you out on the far
end of a long field
and i waved to
you, said i'll  just
be  leaving  this
here and let the
sun eat me while
i walked away.
it's been a while.
Nov 2015 · 1.9k
pause
Megan Grace Nov 2015
heartbeat

i have
been trying
to remember
to pay attention
to my body when
i'm walking, to not
forget it is me in here
but is it me in here with
these storms and hurried
thoughts i have been reaching
for a long time toward some
kind of reconciliation and
it is getting further and
further away from me
my forever ending
was not so forever
was not so final
was not what
i had hoped
it would be
who  am i
if not the
owner  of
these hands
when did my
will to fight run
so fast i could not
catch her i could not
begin to keep up with
her dreams and all of her
ambitions but she calls to me
from somewhere so far away i
can justbarelymakeoutthewords
please     don't     lose      me      but
i am struggling through weeds
and branches that are too thick
and she cries for me from the
top of a mountain from the
top of where i used to
keep     his     heart
put yourself here
she says
put yourself here


heartbeat
gross.
i'm sorry.
Oct 2015 · 2.0k
Nancy Carol
Megan Grace Oct 2015
what i would miss most is the
way she says my name
calls me "sweetie"
calls me "meggie"
says "i don't know what i would do
without you and your sister"
i've been collecting these words
since the day i was born
(her birthday, too)
been storing them in
locket after locket
jewelry box after jewelry box
always worried i'll
run out of space but for her i
would buy a thousand jewelry boxes
ten thousand lockets so i can
remember her voice until i'm
two hundred years old
so i can show my kids
how grandma whispered
how grandma laughed
how grandma loved
we lost my grandma's sister
(and her best friend) this
weekend and it's got me a
little bit scared
Oct 2015 · 917
darling, dear
Megan Grace Oct 2015
the hill dips down deep
behind our house, stretches
out to touch the creek and
runs itself right up to the tree
line. when i was sixteen and
i wanted to die i would come here
and beg the sky to tell me why i
wished my skin would fall off,
why i couldn't bare the sight
of my own hands. i used to
think the ground would
just soak me up,
wouldn't it, if i stayed
there long enough. but
katie always found me, always
yelled for kerstyn to scoop
me from the heap i had
created out of myself and take
me to my room before mom
wandered upon me, the brim of
her shirt filled with blackberries
and her fingers stained.

but now i lay here and i
fill my eyes with sky
and sunlight, think about how
thumbs is buried not too far
off, think about how every once
in a while i'm sure i've caught a
whiff of the fur around her neck
when the wind shifts just right. i
let the leaves trace my body
and crunch under the weight
and pull of my fingers
and i
breathe breathe breathe
until i remember that i no
longer have to force myself to
do it. is this what normal feels like?
moving back home has been
only slightly disheartening
Sep 2015 · 796
#218
Megan Grace Sep 2015
i have been wanting
to read you slow,
to find your smallest
pieces and get to know
their littlest bits.
I feel like everything I write reads very fast.
I'm not sure if that's just me.
Sep 2015 · 764
boats and birds
Megan Grace Sep 2015
l i k e      t h e      g l a s s
bottles on my bookshelf
you havemade yourself
a permanent  and dusty
home. i used to hate the
smell  of   my   skin  and
the shape of my   mouth
butyouhaveneverlooked
at me  like i am anything
less than a human being,
anything less than  gold,
anything less than   god.
i   have been yours since
we were fifteen,    i have
been     yours    since we
w e r e             f i f t e e n.
i should have stopped searching
for someone a long time ago.


title is a song by
gregory and the hawk
Sep 2015 · 747
sept. 4
Megan Grace Sep 2015
i am passing days with only
the slightest       misstep that
before would  have brought
me to            my           knees.
i could fly.
Aug 2015 · 969
Missed the Boat
Megan Grace Aug 2015
modest mouse tastes like you
and i wonder how you could
have left such a stain running
down my throat
down my right forearm
maybe i should just get the
color tattooed into my skin the
way it wants to be but would
it bleed into the marks
from her
and him
and him
did i bruise them the same way
do they walk through life with
my name etched into their
elbows or trailing down the
length of their spines or have
they covered it up with sweaters
and bandaids
what did i leave with you
besides the last remaining shreds
of my tattered sanity
is there any residue of my laugh
lingering on the curve of your
bottom lip or do you smell my
shampoo on your pillows
have you found my name
on you have you found my
name on you have you
found my name on you
"was it ever worth it?
was there all that much to gain?
well we knew we missed the boat
and we'd already missed the plane
we didn't read the invite
we just dance at our wake
all our favorites were playing
so we could shake, shake, shake, shake, shake"

missed the boat -- modest mouse
Jul 2015 · 844
bloodflood
Megan Grace Jul 2015
rocket ships and
blooming flowers,
i feel as though i've
gargled with shampoo
but in a good way where
i'm fizzing from the

inside

                                     out,

all the way

up
my
throat

and through my nose. i
have been finding myself
in the cracked porcelain of
my shower, in his
laugh                                          
             ­                             lines,
in my mother's

smile             smile
smile

for me please. didn't
i used to love to be here
for a lens why would
i have ever hated my
own mouth?
there is so much
b e a u t y
in these curves and
cr ev ic es.
i am so proud to be
the owner of these

hands

and of these

hips

thank god i am back thank
god i am back
july was so good to me.
Jun 2015 · 1.1k
il lazzarone
Megan Grace Jun 2015
i like that my bloodlines
run like your bloodlines
like the salty sea spray
you exhale when you
dream at night
written on a napkin i found in my purse.

i'm not sure where i had planned to go with this one.
Jun 2015 · 774
06.21
Megan Grace Jun 2015
there is a softness in the willows aching with
your steps- aching to follow the curve of
your spine to the sharp edges of your
hips, aching to chase the scent that
lingers and trails behind you-
that until three days ago i
did not understand.
there is something
about that slight rise
to your lips as you lean
down over me even after i'm
sure i cannot stand anymore heat
heat heat but i'll take more as long as
you are willing to give it, as long as it means
i do not have to lose the sound of you in all
your actions and late night phone calls.
I'm a goner.
Jun 2015 · 766
1.
Megan Grace Jun 2015
1.
i had hoped that by this time i
would not be scared of you or
the way cups look nestled in
your hands or the rumbling
down deep when you flash
me that grin, but i feel like i
am sinking
      sinking
      stuck to someone else's
fingertips, even after all this
time. i thought that i would
be able to give you more but
there is nothing left in me for
anyone else. i have scraped
down to raw tissue and tendons,
and i'm sure that if you opened
me up you would see the scratch
marks from where i have been
trying to find even flakes to
give to you. i'm so sorry that by
the time you came along all the
parts of me worth having were
gone.
Jun 2015 · 936
fifteen
Megan Grace Jun 2015
there is this   candle that i keep
in a box and i save it for nights
when i want to think   of  y o u,
when the summer air is too hot
a n d   i  can  imagine  that  you
would   have  turned  o u r   air
conditioning  up so high  t h a t
i would   have had  to put  on a
sweater     while    you stripped
downtonearlynothing.i wonder
if  we  would  have  had   those
gardens you talked about   or if
you would    have taught me to
tolerate beer. i usedto think you
were the  s o l e  orchestrator of
every sunset i had ever     seen,
that you  m u s t  have bartered
some  part  of   y o u r    soul  in
exchange for that laugh       you
had, that all of the absolute ****
i had gone through was simply
there  t o   l e a d   m e   t o  you.
but you did not love me     t h e
same way, you  d i d  n o t  love
m e     the       s a m e           way.
tell me, do we have to bow
down and kiss our own feet
to become whole again?
Jun 2015 · 1.9k
Jurassic World
Megan Grace Jun 2015
how  weird    that   i  could
miss  something  as simple
as   your   odd    habit     of
saying "zoom zoom zoom"
any time you're  in motion
had it really been three weeks?
Jun 2015 · 914
7.22.14
Megan Grace Jun 2015
in the ripped  up
r  u  n     o  v  e  r
shards of   who i
had    wanted  to
be  i  found  only
someone   i  d i d
not      recognize.
h o w   do  i    go
back    to feeling
h   u  m   a   n   ?
from my old journal
Jun 2015 · 855
Rehab
Megan Grace Jun 2015
fifty-two sundays later and i
do not consider myself to be
someone who is healing but
someone who is recovered. it
still stings at the very bottom
of my lungs sometimes but i
no longer hate the areas of
my skin that you've touched.
i do not feel the fire of your
promises in my arms and i
can just barely recall your
laugh. did you ever think i
could have made it this far?
Goodbye, Ryan.
Jun 2015 · 1.5k
willow
Megan Grace Jun 2015
i used to wish i could plant
you in my backyard- grow
a whole field of you to have
for myself. now i'd like to
plant myself there to see
what i'll grow into instead.
it's a very odd/uncomfortable/weirdly
satisfying feeling to know that a whole
section of my life- my whole story with
you- is over.
May 2015 · 980
722
Megan Grace May 2015
722
eleven months later and i am
still getting my **** kicked
in by thoughts of you.
but i am hanging in there,
i am hanging in there.
May 2015 · 760
tuesday, 2:53 am
Megan Grace May 2015
i slipped so comfortably
into your world. god, i
would have let you drown
me if you had needed
my breath for yourself.
May 2015 · 700
Dear Ryan (VIII)
Megan Grace May 2015
i have let you keep me up at night for
too long. there used to be a limit to what i
would allow myself to do- how much i would
allow myself to think of you, to remember your
temperaments and the sound of your footsteps-
but i think i've forgotten what and where that
line was. lately i've been scared to be another
placeholder, scared to get attached to someone
new, scared to understand someone else's hand
gestures. i used to love the way you could paint
our future with your fingertips across the air,
across my skin, across my skin.
I miss you.

Yours,
Megan
May 2015 · 813
composite
Megan Grace May 2015
******* how did you
make me never want
to be touched touched
touched please do not
look at me please do
not breathe near me i
used to crave hands
like they were homes
and i was traveling the
country but now i can't
imagine someone ever
putting their palms on
me or near me i've
been stopping to make
sure all the air intended
for my lungs has been
making it there but i'm
struggling with it every
day when will i be okay
when will i look at another
person and not try to find
you in their laugh lines
and unshaved face when
will i be sewn up from
the inside out i think you
ripped out all of my
stitching a long time ago
this is a disgusting mess but i'm not sorry
May 2015 · 1.1k
blind pilot
Megan Grace May 2015
i have been trying to
lose you in his hands
but i think i am finding
myself there instead i
think i am finding
myself there instead
May 2015 · 669
gnocchi
Megan Grace May 2015
i don't want to love
you  i  just  want  to
sleep   next  to   you
i  haven't  yet  figured  out   if
these things are synonymous.
May 2015 · 888
Sober
Megan Grace May 2015
it has been ten months three weeks
and five days   since   the last time i
spoke words that  were meant only
for your ears and i   am doing okay.
May 2015 · 1.4k
macchiato
Megan Grace May 2015
where you are a soft hum
in my chest he was a riptide,
a cheese grater swallowed
whole, the fifth sunburn
of the summer. you are
the breeze on a rainy
morning but i can't
love your hands the way
i did his why can't i love
your hands the way i did his
I'm tired of trying to be okay.
May 2015 · 666
monday (reprise)
Megan Grace May 2015
i was hoping you would take
everything from inside me at
least         swallow  part  of  it
because i've taken   bullets to
my legs   mostly from myself
because i was too  b  i  g   too
small     too too too too much
for my  own  skin  to  handle
that i thought about          the
roundness       beneath      my
surface everysecondof  every
dayuntil i  learned to despise
circles and buy everything in
smallboxesandnarrow    lines
where i hope to fit one day is
your glucose enough for you
is your steak justrightdo you
want another slice of cake do
you  want  to  be  a   w h o l e
planet or a piece  of cotton in
the wind do you want to  eat
me do youwant to eat me do
you want to eat me  until i'm
whole                              again
Apr 2015 · 722
p.t.h.
Megan Grace Apr 2015
you do not fall at my
feet yet you make me
feel that i am golden.
thank you for never
taking any of my ****.
Apr 2015 · 920
point c
Megan Grace Apr 2015
(I) seaweed skin
today there is a
crevice where my
lungs used to be

(II) brass arteries
i took the long
way to work this
morning trying
to sidetrack my
mind with new
roads but there
are some bits of
you creeping up
my spine and
burrowing into
my hair and
nuzzling my ear
i had thought that
by now i would be
able to take breaths
without chunks of
sentences meant for
you breaking off
from my bronchial
tubes but they are
somehow still lodged
in there like they
have been called home

(III) umbrella heart
i used to wish no one
would ever touch me
ever touch me ever
touch me because their
fingerprints would last
too long and i can't scrub
them off like i want to
please let this be different
please let this be the end
of you aching at the base
of my skull and robbing
me of my purple dreams
and green hopes i want
to feel myself in my arms
instead of you
Apr 2015 · 582
House
Megan Grace Apr 2015
god help me i want to believe
that i am      something worth
holding somethingworthgold
or   silver   something   worth
rippingthethreadsaround the
edges of your heart  i used to
believe i was the sun and   all
itssiblingsbutnow i am afraid
i  will  only   ever   b e   bones
s  t  r  e  t  c  h  e  d  andheldso
tightly under too pale s k i n  i
want to  wrap  my  thin  arms
around you   until you think i
am  t h e  holy land until your
two breaths to my one  are  in
s  y  n      c  o      p  a     t  i  o  n
until   we     are   whole   again
Apr 2015 · 699
for payton
Megan Grace Apr 2015
i
l  i  k  e
y o u r    ***
breath  and   t h e
way  your  hair  seems
to grow from you running
your fingers     through it
through   it   through   it
until your bones settle
in   m y       h a n d s.
please never stop calling
in the middle of the night.
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