I am a moon
and she is my earth
my dusty craters are filled with darkness
and her gardens bloom in warmth
but when her sun shines no longer
I cast my light
I may be a rocky moon
but her tides flow for me

school is the cage to my self-consciousness
I'm sure that everyone in the hallway
is analyzing my personality
I'm sure to **** in my stomach
so much that it makes my back sting
no, I have not lost weight
I've just found new ways to hide it
I'm sure that the hair on my fingers
is as long as the hair on my head
and that my voice is masculine
but not enough to be heard
and as I scrawl this on my math sheet
my hands shake
with the worry that someone will read this
a wind of confidence pulls me down the hallway
but the ship is full of mice
don't tell anyone
but I'm scared as hell

let's take off together
to where the horns and the bustle
blends the screeching of our lives
we'll feel the most whole we've ever felt
being assembled brick by brick
caressing the faces of buildings
the grout sticking to my toes
the body of bodies, never slowing
wearing down what I once was made of
the city has already been brought up
so we're infinitely building ourselves

I've studied you like a doorway
so that I know your in's and out's
like how you shake your head when you're mad
and how you show your love in weird ways
like picking up my speech patterns
and how I don't send you things early in the morning when I know you're not awake
because I don't want to wake you
and how you only make that cute screechy noise when you see dogs or boy's faces
and when you bite your nails and fix your hair I know you need a hug
and when you force me to listen to rap music I know it's because you want it to give me the same happiness it gives you
and ****** I think that's the purest form of love

i'm sorry that i cannot calm down.
trust me,
i wish that my love
did not feel like lightning to the chest
and i wish i couldn't paint and shingle humans
thread through the water & electricity
and call them home

i promise you that
i beg for the ability to never crane my neck
and stare the darkness in the face

i wish that because i feel so much
i think others are feeling too little
and i wish that every TV wedding
didn't make me weep

and i don't expect you to-
**** that, i expect too much

i wish the notches in my bones
were a little less deep

and that i could forget the white-hot happiness
so that it wouldn't crush my ribs
to say goodbye

it's 10 pm.
i note the ember of your cigarette emerging among your dark porch
murmurs.
i am walking home
to my dorm with a locked door
"beautiful night tonight, huh?"
my mouth is sewn shut
and my heart is a deep, wooden drum
men are not supposed to howl,
and women are not supposed to sit idly by
at your bared, smiling teeth
i am not walking by for your entertainment.
i want that tattooed on my bones.
i have never walked so quickly
with fear at my heels
i should not have to walk alone at night
with my keys laced between my fingers
because i am afraid of the wolves.

"i'm proud of you."
the twisting, brilliant tendrils of your words
are tied around my ribs

what hurt was the paralyzing sting
of the bottomless ocean of reality
drenching the bonfires
that had blinded my heart
for years, linked together
by your pouring of gasoline

our love was unromantic
and while we didn't honeymoon in venice
my blood still
pumps through smoking embers

all we have between us are memories
all we will ever have between us is memories
and the weight of my forgetful mind
will not relent in constricting my lungs

your marble column legs
held me upright
and i'll be ******
because this earthquake
lead to my collapse

a note to you:
nobody knows me here.
i am drained.
i am nobody to be proud of.

I knew a boy once.
He wasn’t anything special,
Just a boy sitting in the back of a noisy classroom.
Taking up space.
He wore the same T-shirt three days in a row
And he sat by himself at lunch.

Then I thought about myself.
I wasn’t anything special.
Just a boy sitting at the front of a noisy classroom.
Taking up space.
I wore the same sweater three days in a row
And sat by myself at lunch.

Maybe,
We aren’t anything special.
Just people sitting in noisy places.
Taking up space.
Wearing the same clothes three days in a row
And sitting by ourselves.

the glimmering reflection of the moon shined in the puddle of ginger tea
my shadow portrayed over the broken pieces of the musty blue tea cup
the golden sun disappears but the moon gleams lighter
as if the moon was disappearing as well

the pale moon light shined on her face
as the crisp autumn air blew her long silk hair back
she sat on a bench staring at a beautiful muilicolored tree
she had a small journal in one hand and a paintbrush in the other
she paints a silent picture
the paint brush dashes from side to side
so much color so much flow
she admired the people walking by
she would love the way her hands started to feel numb the more she painted
she would sit in the same bench season after season painting the same trees the same sky
but it would always look different