Today I watched your
lungs turn inside out against themselves,
the air unsure of where to go so it just
hovered
in that middle space between coughs,
when you thought you'd caught your breath but
your voice hitched when you tried to talk and
you started choking again,

I saw
that today, your
eyes watering as you struggled to
remind your body how to sustain itself,
you cussed between fits and asked,
"isn't this supposed to happen on its own,"
you wheezed,
"shouldn't something so
instinctual
be easier than this?"

You didn't sound like you wanted an answer so I
kept my mouth shut,
brought you a glass of water.

i'm broken inside and all i can seem to do is trace the mountaintops i wish to climb onto your skin. i try to envision our future in your eyes but lately i can't see past the tears i'm hiding. when we're laying and my legs are tangled with yours it's so hard to look past that moment and realize all the **** enclosing us. i want nothing more than to stay in your arms all of the time but the world bangs on our door and reality hits and i have to face my fears

the sun in me must be heavy
because waking up is getting harder
i am practicing for the real thing
if we're being honest, i don't
want to see my 17th birthday
because since somewhere after
my 13th one, i have been restrained,
arms behind my back, while he
sucker-punched me in the jaw
i have spent the last 4 years
spitting blood and teeth onto the cement
and saying "thank you, thank you,
this is all i could ever want."

i think i will survive if i can wait a little more
i'll wait until
the last of you is walking
out the
door
the hours have been good to me
the miles
make it
clear
that life can still be beautiful
without you being
                           here
it's when i press my lips to yours
that everything
returns
and opens up a world with an intensity that
burns
enough with the explosives
i don't want them
anymore
the back of you in front of me, i'll run to close the door

I tried to burn the first flower you ever gave me but
it filled the room with smoke like
cigarettes and
I felt it fill my lungs like your
breath
when we used to kiss and
my throat is raw with missing you

The black of your faded comforter
and grey walls with paint swatches in
tasteful shades of yellow
Against our timid skin
blushing with sun exposure
we have not seen in months
Dim rays slipping in between the blinds
and the rain
–in line segments–
makes its way down your window
We whisper so
the neighbors cannot hear us
pretending to make promises
Five past four
still too early

we moved in slow motion
I was running through the waves
and you were in the deep end

dragged to shore and into his arms
all I see is light in the night
you are the stars and the moon

we move at high speeds with such clarity
were tangled in the storm
dancing in the dust clouds