Everytime I think there's nothing left it's
Only because there is so much left there's mountains of
Me left and
That thought scares me
I don't want to spend any more time like this

I wish you could read minds.
Not so that you could find out how much I
Wonder if this relationship is worth it but so
You could do more things right you could
Not ruin the moments before *** you could
Know when no means yes
(know that I am pig-headed and proud as I cry)
You could know when to hold me and not say anything
When to just be there and not scold or argue bad opinions
(know that I am pig-headed and proud as you cry)
(Don't tell me that my feminist is showing)
(I am not ashamed of that)

Something that warrants shame is me in bed
No strength to sit up
Crying because you didn't think it was a good idea to Skype me
(you;re upset maybe you should just rest)
And I'm so alone
And I'm scared of dying of cancer as I fantasize about
Offing myself with sleeping pills
(my suicide note would be like a coming-out-of-the-closet note)
(with less determination and more apologies)

I am so tired
My bones are fragile
My tears are delicious
My feet are cold.

i'm slowly digesting
the reality of you.

i still think of you
when i'm drunk.
i still stare at your number
in my phone,
my heart trying to convince
my brain to dial,
but my brain always winning,
reminding the heart
of how that number has
hurt you and hit
you and made you ashamed
to be who you are.

today i'm not ashamed
and i'm not afraid
and i'm not angry,
not unforgiving
not naive
not sad.
not even a little
bit.
not even at all.

I don’t know how to tell you
that I can tell how hard you
are trying
just by the sound of your voice,
it doesn’t rise and fall like
a never ending tide the way
it used to, it doesn’t make me
want to hang up the phone and
jump off of a bridge just so
I could feel like I was killing
one of our demons
before they could ****
one of us.
I don’t know how to show you
how proud of you I am
for going as long as you have
without slipping back into
slow suicide, without going
back to being absent from
my life like you were
before.
I don’t know how to tell you
that what you are doing
for yourself
is also a gift you’re giving to me,
for there is a strange contagiousness
when somebody starts to
take care of themselves.
I don’t know how to tell you
that just because things are getting
better doesn’t mean
that everything is now automatically
okay, because it’s not and
there are still knots that I’ve tied
in between my ribs and the backs
of my eyelids, things I have
promised myself to never give
or tell or show you
ever again.
My heart is thawing and that is
a choice I have made and I am glad
I am making it.
Life is too hard with a hardened
heart but that doesn’t mean
it can thaw overnight.
I can feel it slowly softening
with each passing day,
though I still scare myself
with what I can remember.
Darkness remains
but I am no longer using it
to fill a void.
And I am glad I can look you
in the eye and know
that you’re trying your hardest
to see, to really see
me again.

I am a lighthouse
       or so I’ve been told
where few ships have sailed
in to find guidance.

I have been waiting
for a vessel to see my light
for a captain to come to shore
for the tides to wash up
        something more than
        a seashell
        a jellyfish
        an empty bottle
                with love letters drenched
                in tears and seawater
                (I couldn’t tell the difference)

I am a lighthouse
Please remember me
in the storm
and on cloudless nights
       when all the stars are
       irresistible in their glory
Remember me
as the place you come home to
Where you can let yourself in
(feel free to put your feet up)
and lay your head back
and let out a sigh that won’t
        be whipped away by ocean-saturated air

I am a lighthouse
in the middle of nowhere
Ships have wrecked themselves
on broken boulders that line my body
like a jealous widow, like a marked territory
Few have made it through.
None have ever stayed.
But my lamp is still burning
and my tower stands tall
and I will guide your journey,
        even if it means pointing over there
        when all I want is for you to stay here.

she liked tea with sugar and lemon
always smelled like peppermint soap
and her hair fell in ringlets around her shoulders
like a golden halo
her handwriting was neat and pretty
her eyes were dark and wide like galaxies begging to be explored
she was a pleasant girl

he dove into her seemingly infinite galaxies
and found out she was not as sweet and clean as she appeared
she was broken
from her split ends, paper cuts, and cracked skin
to the thoughts that flooded her brain at night

from a distance
the girl was spotless and confident
but when people got close enough
they realized that she was far from pleasant
and definitely not spotless (she was a mess)

her wholesome appearance attracted him
he fell
and found that she
was cracked

It's called "falling" in love for a reason.
I used to be a tree,
Strongly rooted in the ground
Independent.
All alone.
Now, I am a mere blade of grass.
My roots intertwine
with those of another
just like our fingers
when he's holding me.

But if he were
To be ripped from my life
I would be uprooted as well.
This tree no longer stands tall
But my lawn assures me that
Love is well worth the risk.