maybe later, when we wake up tomorrow
i'll tell you what i want to say--
maybe another time,
when your eyes find themselves dry
and your feet calloused
from walking barefoot
on sandy beaches too far from home
i'll pipe up--
but i know you hurt so deeply,
and i know your heart has withered,
so maybe
i'll keep this sapling
and plant it,
and maybe one day--
you could find solace in its shade
and think offhandedly
of me

i hope my voice gets through, sometimes
in the haze of faces without names
because i know what it seems like
and i know what you think--
how could i not?--
when i watch as closely as i ever can,
only taking time to sleep,
while every other moment is spent
in awe of you.
there are others and they're right,
about what i'm thinking--
they have to know, they're me after all--
and i know what i feel
may not be love
(a familiar feeling, never bearing fruit)
but i was hoping so hard
that we could pick the blossoms
from its branches,
and drink its nectar like ambrosia
even if we aren't gods--
(hell, i don't even know what to call myself)--
but cupid is a cruel master,
stabbing and shooting through the roots
of where i'd made my home
amongst dead leaves
and wilted flowers.
but despite that,
you're here
and i find myself hoping, one more foolish time,
for this old, frail tree
to bloom

(i sleep with one eye open
when i sleep next to you)

on the train
in early mornings
i lean against the glass
and i watch the highway below bustle
with cars that belong
to people i don’t know
sometimes
i wish for impossible things
like going back in time
and not crashing that car,
not loving that boy,
not jumping
from a train platform
in the early hours
when no one
can process
what i’ve done
just yet–
not until midday will they realize
what they witnessed
and recall the sound
of my bones
shattering
on
impact

let me tell you how it feels
to feel good enough
to feel so amazing
that you know
you won’t beat this
to feel so great
with your hands so tight
and squeezing
on my throat
you’re gonna regret it
when you’re done
because you felt so good
so good with your fingers
digging deep into
my windpipe while
i laid there
counting first and second degrees
on the backs of my
eyelids

maneki neko
waves at me
from his perch amidst
eyeshadow and pencils and notebooks and lipstick
his head
reflects the lamp
above my head
he has not made me
very lucky,
in fact
since i got him
things have
steadily declned
it hurts now
just to breathe
just to live
maneki neko
with his grand coins
and little solar panel
gilded with red and gold
he waves his paw
at me
as if to say
‘keep at it,
something good
will happen soon’
i go to therapy today
to authorize my therapist
to talk to my mother
about my problems
because that’s what they are
problems
without
solutions
because, mom says, in her emails
that the lady reads me,
she’s worried
she’s concerned
for my future
yes, there’s the rub
always going on
about
my future
maneki neko
with his paw curled and beckoning
waves at me
from his bright red stand
despite everything
i keep
the desk lamp
on
the next day
i bring it up
‘you don’t really
care that much
do you
you just
want exactly what
you had in mind
for a kid’
maneki neko
gleams in the fluorescent light
waving
endlessly
at nothing in particular
i love you
i love you
i love you
maneki neko
with his ears perked
and arm at the ready
has stopped
moving