Waiting for letters
in great, wide envelopes.
Waiting for someone
else to decide
if I am worthy
to try for my dreams.

It all comes down
to letters
and how they
translate into a
number
and how that number
translates into a value
of you.

I wrote about how
I pulled myself out
of my own early grave
and how a pill
and a doctor
and a God
ignited
a fire in my heart
to live
and live
and live well.

Today, I am not a flower,
I am a seed,
who only wishes to be a flower;  
but fears nobody
will give me water.

I could be a garden.

Love is unselfish. Love is unconditional. Love is wanting their happiness, even if it does not mean your happiness. Love is being awake and alive and wishing they were here to experience this with you. Love is being ******* furious, taking a deep breath before you twist the knife in, and instead stitching them up. Love is holding back their hair and rubbing their back while they throw up; drunken mistakes are nothing to be ashamed of, babe. Love is feeling blood and hormones rush through your body the moment you realize they're here, they are here. Love is birthday cake, Christmas lights, spotlights and dreamboats, breakfast for dinner, and making anywhere home as long their arms are around you. Love is moonlight ***, morning kisses before you've brushed your teeth, their hand sliding down your pants under the table. Love is craziness, insanity, being so fueled by emotion that nothing makes sense and you can't help but act. Love is singing it all at the tops of buildings, kissing them when nobody or everyone is watching, being not only unafraid but proud to claim them as yours. Love is wanting nobody else in the world except them because nobody else is worth it; nobody else could hold even one-tenth of their value to you. Love is meaning it, every word. Love is ridiculously long letters, hand-painted cards, drunk text messages, and forever-blurred vision. Love is a slip of the tongue while you're high, playing guitar on a back porch at three in the morning, and wanting someone with every fiber of your being even if you'll swear to the death that you don't. Love is choosing someone, knowing that although it's going to be difficult, and painful, and sometimes ******, you are willing to take on any challenge as long as they will be there when you wake up in the morning. Love is deep, deep, deep down, sometimes small but always glowing, ready to spark a fire again at any time, if only you'd poke at the embers and let it burn.

I am a flower
on the broken bridge
and you are the hand
that places me in your hair,
behind your ear,
and you let me whisper
all the awful reasons
I was broken off
from my stem and
from my garden,
and you let me cry
about why I am a bad, bad,
bad, bad, flower.
And that is when you tell me
that no fingers deserved
to pluck me down to nothing.
I have not lost my stem,
but found a new one.
You are my stem.
And I am your flower.
Some days, I will be
your stem, and you
will be my flower.
And we can learn
to grow ourselves
our own new stems.
Because it's not about
the baggage,
it's about who helps you
unpack.

I want to feel your teeth so close to my veins
I can hear the hickeys you're about
to leave on my neck,
and
I want to feel your mouth so close to my heart
I can feel the kisses you're about
to plant on my body,
and
I want you thisclose to me so that
I can feel your soul melting
into mine,
and
I want you.

i want to swim in your psyche
and drown in your soul.
knee-deep, toes like raisins,
head below the surface,
tumbling onto shore with every
crashing thought.
i'll scuba dive through your every flaw
and take souvenirs in memory
to remind myself i love each
drop of water you think scars you.
i can hear your ocean in your heartbeat
and when you tell stories no one knows.
and your sea slips through your eyes
sometimes; saltwater sadness.
i want to touch the very bottom floor,
ten-thousand leagues under your heart,
where your humanity rests and cries and loves.
let me sing and swim, let me in,
for i am so thirsty for that salty clear blue abyss
you grow into everyday.
i will willingly ride out each wave
until your tides subside and you are calm,
flat lagoon with moonlight right on top.
i want to plunge into your persona and
submerge myself in your mind,
breathing in the sweetest water
my lungs and ocean have ever known.

Blue clouds and soft notes and fingers down my spine,
The wood grain looks like thick rain and your taste is fine (so fine.)
Let the wind blow wherever I go, I’ll lead you where it’s safe.
On the long grass, off the stone path, we will wander until it’s late.
You will hold me up, by the bull’s horns, by the headstrong heat in me,
I will push back, until you realize I am trying to make you make me bleed.
Ghosts will skip out from the closet, try to play with you and me.
Skeletons will rise out their graves, try to trick you so you leave.
I am so afraid of you but if you leave, I will cry (cry, cry, cry.)
But if you walk out, I will lose it, I’ll join those skeletons and die.
Hold my gold ring, while I go sing, kiss the doctor under your nose.
Don’t get mad, dear, this is poetry, you’ll know we’re real when it’s prose.
I saw an alien in my bed once, he whispered the secret of life.
He told me life is but a chess game and love is but a knife.

I am giving up on the thought that you will ever give me as much time as I give you honor.

Every time I try to grow a flower, you hand me a bomb.

The world is a dark place, and I am a mere candle, trying to hold it together in the wind.

Because it rips out my heart to hear you grow the courage to say those words to a girl, when you would never even notice all the love in my eyes.

And people forget how much love can hurt until that familiar hand comes to slap them again.

You ripped me up from the ground, roots and all exposed, then snipped them with scissors without a second thought.

I am tired of making myself whole, only to hand you the knife for you to slice me open.

It is exhausting, and fruitless, and soul-aching to hold so much for someone who would never hold you again.

And him, with his bright love and strong-holding mind, loved me from afar only to drop me when I gave in.

And him, with his unexpected arrival in my life, so aware of our wavelength, yet choosing to deny.

And him, with his tender funniness and joy, brought me to his bedroom, then kicked me out of his door.

And him, with his dark eyes and ridiculous smile, almost saved me, just to drown me right after.

I am tired of giving myself to people who cry for me, only to push me away as though I forced myself on them.

And you, you are the worst of them all, my never-ending crucifixion who I could never regret.

On a gloomy Sunday, when everything falls apart, including myself, all I want is you next to me, but all I want is you gone.

You are white like a bone;
And also an eggshell.
You write in permanent marker,
But your letters make you cry.
You are a key that opens anything
But crumbles with rust and time.
And you sing in the shower
But when someone catches you,
You shut up silent, mouth sewn closed.
You come in tides like the ocean,
But you are scared of the sea,
Even though you are a wave always crashing into me.
You are a bone and an eggshell;
white ambiguity, wrapped into one.

They all have such pretty minds,
And long hair, and pretty eyes,
But I hold you in the back of my heart,
And I think when you love someone,
I'm in the back of your mind.
They don't know the way your fingers
Grasped my hips, so in love.
You give them your lust, they give you their all.
You walk away so easily, because you find love too hard.
Did I teach you things had to be that way?
When people ask me if I still love you,
I smile and drink my wine,
Smudging the glass with lipstick,
Because anybody who has to ask that question,
Has never been in love.

Through the clock's burrowed bounty,
And the timeless starry gaze,
I ventured into writing
In a warm and hazy daze.
With God's hand on my shoulder,
My lover on his knees,
I wrote the only truth I know:
Love changes, never flees.

Don't forget this feeling
Like love letters torn up and set aflame
In your belly, your heart, your brain
The world has broken, disappeared
But you are still stuck here
That reminds you love has a price to pay
Because your heart falls apart
Into adrenaline and anger
And the deepest sadness you've known
All explodes into your bloodstream
Until your hands shake
The single spark of hope exhausted
So now so are you
Because everything hurts but there's nothing to say
I guess I'll wait for you forever

It’s all spinning in my head, burning with friction and fire. Your name is etched all on my lips, all crossed out with a scar. I’ve been trying to erase it, but it’s so strong I can taste it even now. I am so ashamed and so alone and maybe that’s why I can’t think of anything else. I am so high, I’m out of my mind, but I can’t come down. I’m unsure if your heart beats just as mine. I can’t say now but something’s brewing, boiling up with time. I ******* miss you and it is hurting every fiber of my being; I refuse to wonder why. I can’t come to terms with what’s lurking under my bed. I’m afraid that this is all in my head. I’m afraid that I’ll never see you again… if I tell you any of it. Because I know you’ll just blame me. Because it is not what we think or what we have, it is what we do. The choice is clear from you. I still miss you.

Cold September night
and for the first time
in a long time
everything is alright.
Somehow it feels like
everything is falling
into place
instead of apart.
And even if it's not,
I still know I'll be okay.
I used to be a firework
and then I was a graveyard
but I have found my spark again.
All I can do is love what I have
and pray for the Universe
to bring to me what's right
and hopefully end up happy,
flashing through the night sky;
golden, sparkly, and clear.