today I did not think about him
It is the first time in an entire year that I haven't
I don't realize this until tomorrow
but it is an accomplishment nonetheless

today I went to lunch, did laundry, drove to the gym
I didn't see his shadow in my rear view mirror
It is the first time during a commute where I don't feel the overwhelming urge to pull over
often the speed of the traffic mixed with the acceleration of my thoughts guides me to the side of the road
anxiety blowing loudly through the vents into my open mouth until I am too tired to focus-
today is the first time that didn't happen

last week I googled "therapists near me"
I settled on a woman with a nice smile and a specialty for trauma
This is the first time I find myself familiar with that word
almost comfortable like a distant family member I am just now recognizing
trauma is something with one definition but too many faces
for the past eight months I have been wearing his

on monday I spend an hour in the office of a stranger
she asks me why I'm here and I respond with I don't know but
my answer is as dishonest as my avoidance is expanding
she asks me how I am and I almost forget that I didn't come all this way to say fine
for a moment I almost forget that I am not.

I tell her about him without trying
I don't say his name
or the details I remember with more clarity each day that goes by
she says memories are really only what we remember each time we remember them
I think it's funny how I remember more every time I do
how sometimes laying in bed becomes catalyst to chest pain
I can still feel him kneeling on top of mine
pressing body into cracked ribs into spit on my neck
I can hear his humming of a song they play too often on the radio
there is no trigger warning for the reminders life has to offer
I find them everywhere without trying

she understands as much as I want her to
she says it's really about power
I say I know
she asks if I feel like I lost some kind of control
I say yes
I don't tell her that I have spent countless hours trying to find it
in bodies that aren't my own
digging nails into muscle and mattress trying to pull out some semblance of who I used to be
For too long I have covered up with a bandage
I am just now ripping it off for the first time
this pain is a sort of cleansing
I took three showers after he left but it is only today that I feel his remnants washed off my skin
I can't help but wonder if this is what Pinocchio felt the first time he was honest with his demons

today I did not think about him
yesterday I did not think about him
the day before I only thought about myself and pizza and myself again
there is very real possibility that my mind could figure out a way to bring back the unwanted
that tomorrow could be another way to remember
but today I didn't
I went to lunch, did laundry, drove to the gym
I made it home without incident
not perfect,
but it is an accomplishment
nonetheless

The night of stolen kisses
That my lips didn't deserve
Carresses you wanted for her
Touches that would later hurt

The night you held me
In a way I cannot forget
You looked at me like I was everything
But I wasn't what you wanted

The night of mistakes
That will forever haunt me
Sleeping next to you
Was everything and nothing

The night of many things
That turned into losing you..

Other times I kiss the northern winds, let them dance with my curls while caressing my curves. Drifting me away, a feather in a gentle tornado towards vague, dreamlike, foreign lands.  

& in other occasions I belong wholeheartedly to the moon. She's my favorite intimate lover, the most passionate of all. Her dark mysteries keep me addicted to the light she steals from the sun.

Then when the sun takes me, lights me up, burns me, sweet sweet fire, as he embraces me. A Phoenix coming back to him over & over. Naked scars & whispers of warm love, poems that tell me he shines for me, keeps the soil under my feet warm for me, tells me he lives for me.

All the while the ocean waits patiently for me to yet again submerge myself in the chaos of its storms. Maybe all the salt water in the oceans are just tears that've been shed waiting for lovers to embrace its madness. Oceans long for fearless lovers, lovers that fear not the wrath of its solitude and forbidden passion.

& once in a blue moon I sit in silence & succumb to the unknown. Most of the time words fail me and I can't describe the way I unwrap myself in the darkness. Dark matter, the ether, my intangible lovers living in the same place. There's an art to losing yourself in places like these.

Sometimes I belong to you, but for the most part, I belong to myself.

Feeling not so pretty
in the middle of the night

I've got a glass of wine
and a fluorescent light.

I've got a fridge full of leftovers

of feelings

of spite

I've got a bottle to my left

and its contents to my right.

And there's a morning fast approaching
In which the real life lies

but my body isn't tired
and my brain is stirring fry

and my hands are typing nonsense
as my face becomes my eyes

there's a birdie in the corner
in the corner with the flies

I've got one more chance to make it
but my head's become my mind

I've got one more chance to shake it
but I just can't quite decide.

tell me someone will love me
fully clothed
and

tell me someone will love me
with blood on my hands
and

tell me someone will love me
shaking, trembling, convulsing
and

tell me someone will love me
when they're searching for gold and i am rustic bronze
and

tell me someone will love me
with veins ripped apart
and

tell me someone will love me
with a starved stomach and empty eyes
and

tell me someone will love me
when i am dying
and

i'm asking you
//please love me//

Out of body, out of touch
If I feel at all, then I feel too much
This poem is as shallow as my grave

But I'm still digging

If I want a God then I'll misbehave
If I want to be sad then I'll entertain
Just because I'm found
doesn't mean I'm around
Just because I'm growing up
Doesn't mean I can't be down

I'm sorry, mom and dad,
but if I want to be happy then I'll have to be sad
I'll write until my fingers bleed
Until my words are the blood that the readers need

There was an army of ants in the plastic plants
So I poured light through a magnifying glass
And I created a fire on the artificial grass

They scurried and hurried
with flames on their backs
Like soldiers on a hopeless plain,
searching for invisible barracks

And I sighed as they died,
because we are all the same:
Scurrying and hurrying from invisible pain

I'd been waiting for you
on purposeless summer days,
when warmth would kidnap
my breath and my will.
I wished for rain to clean my soul
of unwanted excuses,
of unpleasant nights
when unforgiving thoughts took over.
I want your colours to overwhelm
my grey lens,
and your taste of death
to remind me that I'm living.
With you, I'm sitting on the edge of a cliff,
lip biting my courage
into daring to take the plunge.
Oh, my-
I might be flying.