The minute I knew
my breath left my body
sending part of my soul out to search for you

before she said the words over the phone
my heart raced
my throat closed
I sputtered with questions, trying to make action
when deep down I knew
that nothing could be done

my interrupting pleas blocked her
I wanted the words that came after to never come— and when they did
there was nothing

A tiny infinity
Folding itself into a tiny ball
instantaneously weighing heavy
becoming a singularity
time and physics changing
Unraveling around
bursting into surreal ribbons of time—that I wanted to stab
to pin you back down to earth

I confronted the stars to demand a bargain with the universe  
of course they responded with an indifferent silence
my wish goes against the laws of physics

So instead, I bare my soul
throwing it over the event horizon
to speak directly to you:
come back to me
come back to me
come back to me

reoccurring nightmares jolt me awake
sleep deprived, I scroll through my phone seeking interpretations
this always leads me down a narrow spiral
a dearth of knowledge littered with lies

I fear most of all the devil, death and bugs
the devil because I’ve been told that I’m ******
death because it is coming to claim all the things I love
and bugs because I’ve lived through too many infestations

But last nights dream was different
I dreamed of beautiful bugs
a swarm at the peak of a mountain
moths swirling around the place that I might summit
a glowing moon, light blue and eerie
snow slowly melting
the air a tentative dusk

Fluttering at the center around the moon,
the red eyes on their wings flashed me a warning
I drew closer

so close I could hear a chitter
a shiver went down my spine

but I walked on
shielding myself through the swarm

a moth separated from the group
approaching me
I began to panic,
worried it would hurt me
fearing that its small yellow tongue might lick my feet
that I would taste the fur on its wings
that we might consume each other

I ran from the swarm down the mountain
down a dark path leading me back to reality
but when my eyes swiveled back open
and my face bathed in the blue light of my phone
I wished that I had stood my ground

what would have happened
if I greeted the moths,
continued to up the mountain,
and bathed in the light of the moon
joining the moths in a dance

Summer evenings I going walking
people reunite on porches
parents take their children to the park
and bugs seep out from cracks in the ground

lighting bugs glow
sparse floating sparks
gliding past my little park
the one that I never sit in down my block
because children play there

when I have the courage I like to wave
the children shriek and run to the iron fence
pressing perfect pudgy noses through the bars
sticking small dirt covered fingers out trying to reach me
I gently wave, tightly smile and shuffle on
fast walking to my home

laughter carries in the wind after me
I long to pause in the park a moment longer
but if I stop for too long
I’m afraid a lightning bug might land on me

I’d like to be a natural girl
aesthetically home-grown
A DIY princess
Instagram goddess
Externally signaling I’m internally pure

But I’m not.

I’m sharper
Internally slicing and picking
Instagram ghost
too lazy for a consistent aesthetic
Dreading attention

Yet I’m afraid of being forgotten
While equally terrified of the spotlight
an in between
Inner ego fighting the fact
One day I’ll die

What’s curious though,
Is my digital life may be buried
Long after my ashes
An Internet branded shell
Of who I once was

The veins of my eyelids
a sharp toned red
transforms into a blinding white
my eyes swivel to peak at the sun

I want the light to seep into my bones
longing to instead be a plant
slowly photosynthesizing

It would be easier perhaps,  
to whisper sweet nothings
to the wind
rather than tightening my throat
strangled by my human body
the grief never quite leaving my lips

Shadows cross my bedside  
shapes of blowing leaves tumble over
as the sun turns her head west
I watch the flurries of colors pass by

A hallway.
for me and you
was a couple of leaps between shadows
to
laughter followed by scolding
and
right back to the hallway again.

Once,
You made
Five hundred and thirty-six miles
A hallway.

A carpet trail
Turned sinuous backcountry roads
In the dark of late fall,
The skeletal trees
Of Upstate New York
Unlike our home’s shoe-print walls.

My eyes burned with relief
At the headlights of your car.
Lugging puffy blankets through my door
Laughing at your air mattress,
To my roommate’s dismay,
Taking up the floor.

From highways to new hallways
Laced with your memories  
Those concrete corridors
In their freedom-filled, fluorescent glory.

To our current hallway,
Where your door mirrors mine
Where you paint with 5 o’clock sunlight
On my freckled face.
The smell of cheaply brewed coffee
That we separately make.