You can not drink brackish water
Halfway will never be good enough

Purple is often misunderstood 

People confuse it with pink or blue 

They cannot comprehend change

The synthesis of something new

Purple has been picked to pieces

Analyzed with Pantone paint chip cards

The public is vexed, this defiance of ***

Twirled around by color guards

They say that violet delights have violent ends
That from this “choice,” there’s no return

But they’re the ones who set us aflame

And we, in their triumph, burn

tap, tap, tap
my toe hits the linoleum
I'm caught up in bouncing knees
and quivering hands
involuntary vibration
punctuated by staccatos
slicing through the silence
"It's coming," it says
I mutter, "how soon?"

Today I went kayaking
I glided across the cool waters
Brackish and so devoid of life
This time of year

As I drifted underneath the bridge
I imagined it painted like the Sistine chapel
A choir of angels hidden beneath the barnacle encrusted concrete
For only the fish to see

I had almost forgotten that the river existed
Five minutes away
And all I wanted to do was paddle
Out into the ocean

I've lost all my baby teeth
But I remember the ache in my gums
The ****** holes they left behind

I exchanged each pearl for a coin
From a glittering fairy tale falsity
A consolation prize for growing up

Bits of bone falling from my mouth
I bid my skeletal farewell
To the pieces of me I no longer needed

Between the angry sea and I
There stands a sturdy barricade
A wall of sticks and bones and teeth
Another fortress that I've made

It starts to sway and bend and crack
As waves beat it relentlessly
I rush up with handfuls of mud
Trying to fight away the sea

Eventually the sky turns clear
I take in the flotsam scene
The ocean outside still churns
Just the sea and I, with a wall between

There's a girl in my bathtub
I can see her dancing on the surface of the water
Her eyes glinting in the florescent bathroom lights
She and I have a lot in common
The same cropped hair and scars,
Crisscrossing our bodies like little train tracks
She shivers as the water pours into the tub
Hot rain falling from the faucet
I watch her beneath the surface
And I wonder if she is drowning

The first time I saw you naked
I felt like I had discovered an entire planet
Uncovered the secrets of the universe in the curve of your hips

You are a galaxy of a girl
I had already seen the stars in your eyes
But I had missed the constellations on your skin
All the little craters like the moon

Your body is a landscape
The kind that the masters strive to paint
With valleys and rolling hills
Mountains and caverns
And I'll explore you with sunset kisses
Topographic touches
I'll give you a bouquet of compass roses
And let you know that you're my home

I'm wearing my favorite boots today
They fit perfectly,
Since Ive finally broken them in
It took a while to wear my footprint into their soles
But now my body has beaten the leather
Until it curls around me.
They are comfortable, practical
The tongue used to stick out and squeak with ever step
But don't worry, I silenced it.
I've laced my boots up tight
Don't want to be too big now
Don't want to be loose
I can't let you slip away from me again.
I top the knot off with a little bow
Still got to be pretty
What are you if you're not pretty?
They have scuffs and scratches and cuts and bruises
But that's just because of all the fun I've had
Sometimes I clean them up a bit
A little spit and polish, and they're good as new
A little spit and polish, and everything's okay again
But they're getting worn down, I can see it in your eyes- I can see it in their eyelets
But I know they can't walk away
After all, who else could they fit so perfectly?

My body is a canvas
The type you get at Michael's in a pack of three
For $12.99
Pre-gessoed and ready to go
Though they probably won't last forever,
Hanging on a nail in your grandpa's home
I paint my wrists with watercolor bruises,
Purple and blue
Like clouds drifting by a setting sun
I sketch out lines across my thighs
My every action amplified into a performance art piece
I draw with little dots of ink, until I get a picture as permanent than I am  
I cut and dye my hair like cloth
Knowing one day
I will figure out how to stitch myself back together

I miss the feeling of clay under my hands
A spinning wheel, my foot on the pedal.
The rough silver plate always sands
Down the skin on my hand but I don't mind

I can build vessels out of the earth
Pulling cups and bowls up from the ground
In this instant, my hands are worth
A thousand vases glazed in gold

I dip them in thick buckets of color
And place the ceramic uncertainties in the furnace
We both come alive in fire
And emerge even stronger than before

I collect memories of you
and wear them like a charm bracelet
They delicately dangle and glint in the sun
like tiny wind chimes
You are cast in silver
cold to the touch, yet warm on my wrist
Chain-link ringlets coil closer than your hair
loose clasp, smooth hands
Flawless fractals falling one by one

I'm sick of hearing about drunken men
Slurring their thoughts out through the tips of their pens
And the history of poetry had been bleached as white
As the parchment on which their poems were printed

The day the sweat bee stung my ankle
Was the day your mother died
We didn't know this until years later
When we reached back in time before we met
You said you never loved her anyway
Told me it didn't even hurt
But as your fingers brushed against my skin
I swear I could still feel the sting

We had made a home out of our love
Big windows and sturdy floors
I looked around and then I found
We had forgotten to put in a door
So we tore down the wooden beams
Holding up the roof we were trapped beneath
Broken glass, the house collapsed
Lying in the rubble, I could finally breathe

I've gotten so used to greyscale
On this faulty monitor
That I've almost forgotten what colors look like
As they dance across the screen

I have had enough of this monochromatic monotony
So I snip wires, rip out cords
Do anything I can to see if I can get the color back
The only cable I leave alone is the one connecting it to the wall

I stand there in the robotic wreckage
And see a bit of red blinking on the screen
My world is not yet in technicolor
But this is a start.

You said you wanted to take a bite of the moon
That it probably tasted like vanilla and ice
You've devoured worlds before
And they sit in your stomach like little stones

You swallow whatever you press to your lips
Aching for something to freshen your breath
To rid your tongue of the taste
Of all the souls that slid down your throat

T minus 15 years
I am screaming, crying, untimely ripped from the first home I had ever known
Born with eyes open, I fight for my first breath. I know I am supposed to live.
T minus 10 years
I have earned callouses on my little hands, toughened the soles of my feet
And now encounter the lullaby of language, the incredible illusion of image
T minus 5 years
I notice shooting stars, and for the first time, they seem within my reach
If I just turn my palms towards the sky, I'll catch a comet before it hits the earth
Countdown complete
The mountains I've climbed are scratched into my soul, and I trek on
Keeping my eyes open, I fight for my each breath. I know I am supposed to live.

So many people have walked out this door
That the hinges have begun to creak
They remind me of long-lost ghosts
With every rusty, grating squeak

The **** is loose from overuse
I've wasted time they can't retrieve
With such a cold an empty house
It's no wonder why they leave

The creature is limp in my hands.
As I raise it to my mouth
And sink my teeth into its skull,
I can feel it go to pieces

I unhinge my jaw
And devour its mangled body,
Savoring every ravenous bite of this rabbit
That I got in my Easter basket

I'm done trying to make myself beautiful
I'm bored with mascara, weighing down my eyelashes
gunking up my sight like a city sewer

I'm finished with lip gloss
a pop of shiny color on my wet mouth
pulling you in for a sticky kiss

I want to be ugly
to let my pores gape wide and let in the air
my skin breathing for the first time in years

I want to claw off my clothing
my fabric fittings sewn to slim me down
to tailor me into something worth loving

I want to be repulsively human
maybe all of this is because you said
how you always love the most disgusting things

She has matchstick fingertips
and lighter fluid in her veins
Every time she touches me,
She leaves a trail of flames

She's a lantern in the dark
Brighter than every distant star
Not even a forest fire
could hold a candle to her

You cast out your net
Woven from fibers interlocking like our fingers
And disturb the calm of the surface I understand
Speech bubbles rise in my throat and pop with the sound of your name
There are plenty of fish in the sea
But I'm too tangled up in you to look
This isn't love, it's subterfuge
Yet somehow you still lure me in
And I fall, hook, line, and sinker

You planted kisses
on me like flowers, and from them
a garden grew

I met a girl with flowers in her hair
not a crown or a clip, but cherry blossoms
they bloomed from her ears and her scalp and the hollow of her neck
she was a garden of eden

I met a girl with flowers in her hair
and roots that ran all the way down through her feet
they never held her in place
instead, they made the earth upon which she stood her home

I met a girl with flowers in her hair
who let summer sunbeams catch her eyes
as they glistened among ferny tendrils
until the autumn came

You once called me delicate
as if I were but the eggshells you walk on
You said you were afraid to touch me
That you could crush my frosted flower petals
with your clumsy hands
Butterfly wings between your fingers
But you overlook my strength
The way eggshells contain a pulsing soul
The way an insect can carry ten times its weight on its back
The fact that glass is made of lightning
You overlook your own gentleness
The soft words you sigh from softer lips
The way that fire keeps me warm
How many teardrops make up a storm?
Please believe me when I say
we are not made of sticks and stones
Please believe me when I say
I am something you can hold

He lives in a cold and empty house
Where lightbulbs hang from silver chains
And lonely ghosts live within
The cracking, creaking wooden walls

He leaves out his favorite books for them
And listens to footsteps beneath the floorboards
He plays piano,
a reclusive recital for empty rooms
And they keep each other's soft-spoken secrets

I'm lying in bed
I want to get up, but God
Is it comfortable

Close your eyes
Erase whoever is tattooed on the inside of your eyelids and find comfort in the darkness
It is yours
Inhale, exhale
Repeat this for the rest of your life

When the starry nights turn cold
Wrap your sheets around your feet
And curl into the comforter, finding solace in your solitude
It is okay if you cannot lift your listless body off of the bed
This also means you can not hurt yourself
Take a shower, wash the day off of your skin
Send your sorrows down the drain
Do not worry if you still feel unclean when you step out of the bathtub
This just means you need to scrub deeper

Inhale
Exhale
Pass the air through your lungs, let this be the part of you that never tears
Find beauty In your breath, sending little sailboats floating off into the night (clouds?)
Compress your chest if you must
Reach inside your ribs and take the balloons into your hands,
Be gentle
Remember that you were a child once,
That they still live inside of you

Inhale
Exhale
Repeat, repeat, repeat this like your favorite song
The one that you keep in your pocket like a lucky penny
Keep the music close to you, voices of strangers soothing you from your self- estrangement
Pianos will always hold your hands
Guitar strings will kiss your fingertips
Breathe, and exhale song

When it is dangerous to be alone
Surround yourself with the hum of other people's souls
Let them take care of you when you cannot take care of yourself
That is what they are here for
You would do the same

There will be some nights
When the pain in your chest makes you bend in half
Open a window
Soothe your lungs with the winter air
Dehumidify your eyes with the dryness of December
Dim the lights
Inhale, exhale
Repeat this for the rest of your life

When I was little, I stuck scissors into the electrical outlet
something I never would have had the urge to do if my parents hadn't told me it was dangerous
I was a rocket pop, always standing too close to the edge,
always carrying a matchbook in my pocket

I'm not the only one who flirts with death
Death is the quarterback, death is the prettiest ******* the cheerleading team
Death is popular at parties
And when someone seems so out of my reach like that, I tend to romanticize them

So I fantasized about pills that shone like pearls
I envisioned ribs sticking out from my skeletal frame, finally frail enough to ****** the object of my desires
I thought about razor blades scattered like flower petals on the bathroom floor
Etching memento moris into my skin
I dreamed of fenders and pavement rushing up to meet my lips for one last kiss

God, I had the biggest crush on death
But so did everyone else
And I saw them falling further in love as if they were tumbling from a skyscraper
This is not a love poem, this is a goodbye
Because I have instead become infatuated with beautiful things
I am a creator, so I must stop destroying myself

Dear death
I don't want to be just another girl who doesn't look when she crosses the street, hoping to meet you on the other side
I will be okay on my own, and I'll keep the scissors locked up in the craft cabinet

(and this is what I do to myself)

Today I took a walk with you in the woods
it was foggy, drizzly, overcast
and the sun dully shone through the tangle of tree branches
that curled around us like a nest

we walked hand in hand
and the light rain settled into your eyelashes
melancholy dewdrops dripping from the clouds
I've seen you cry. They looked nothing like tears

I've always had itchy feet
Never can sit still
Or let the soles of my shoes fuse to the ground

I keep my home around my neck
Wear it in a golden heart shaped locket
I misplaced my compass but never lost myself

I crave the ground passing beneath my feet
Beneath wheels and airplane shadows
I measure my age in miles acquired

I've seen the Milky Way from every angle
And swam in every sea
I keep going, going, going
And I never stop to wonder what I'm running from

I can feel you inside of my chest
Nestled between my lungs
I can taste you in my mouth
You're on the tip of my tongue

You are curled up inside my skull
Constantly on my mind
I can feel you in the palms of my hands
And creeping down my spine

I've injected you like ******
And I can feel you racing through my veins
This momentary rush of pleasure
Would be worth a lifetime of pain

You were always reaching.
Even as a child, you stretched your arms skyward
You tugged at loose threads and string
Let yourself unravel, tucked into nests by  birds

Even now, you still yearn
Reaching for something invisible and miles away
Your rose-tinted eyes haven't learned
That as long as you love, the ache won't ever go away

I am spectacularly
Ignorant. I cannot understand anything
Complex, not to mention intelligent.
Somehow, I am miserable at
Every new thing I attempt, I
Fail at the same things I watch my peers
Excel at.
Over the past few years,
I have found that I am worth
Absolutely nothing. I hate myself
More than I ever thought was possible.
I really don't think
I'm going to be okay.

There are ghosts in the kitchen cabinets
and Ophelia swims in the sink
you lean against the counter tapping nails against the cold granite
like nails on a chalkboard
like nails running up and down my spine
we are not even hungry, we can't be
not for this
but I'll still bite your lip in the fluorescent light flickering above us
the moths that crept in under the doorway knock against the lamp
the sound of wings against glass
they're so in love with the light that they'll set themselves on fire
and I see your hand on the stove but you don't even flinch
you've always been so warm
there are cracks in the linoleum under our bare feet
we know better than to trip
but no one can stop a grease fire so we find ourselves falling
falling
falling

Some nights, she shines so brightly
That I forget that there is a half of her I will never see
Shrouded in darkness, forever turned away from the earth

The spirit of Mulan lives inside these girls
she who transforms to go to war
she who chops her hair and binds her chest loose clothing, low voice
she marches to the battlefield
made of asphalt and alleyways
she hides in hoodies, armed with keys
to combat hidden enemies
these battles are fought in the night
far from pools of streetlight
she masquerades to avoid an invasion
she fights to protect her only home

I often wonder what I'm worth
and I think Ive got it figured out
I've factored in the current exchange rates
the value of my damaged parts

I am worth the quarters in your pocket
popped into a pinball machine on a saturday night
the arcade lights flashing like police sirens

I am worth a couple of your smiles,
of your lips and hands a few minutes at a time
you give me more
but I am a risky investment
you know how unstable the market is

I am worth about four hundred calories a day
anything more is theft

I am worth an extra blanket
but not turning up the heat
I am worth chamomile tea
without a spoonful of honey
I am worth keeping alive
but not truly living

So I total up the sum of my parts
and pin on a price tag as if it's my name
I am on clearance, perched on the buy-it-now final sale shelf
hoping that I'm not too expensive

I am learning to sleep with the window open
And let crickets crawl into my ears
The cars passing by are a lullaby
And star after star appears

Sometimes one streaks across the sky
Leaving space dust in its wake
I think of the the wishes that I've missed
On the nights I was not awake

There is a snack size container of peanut butter sitting in the pantry
And I'm sitting across the room but I can feel it's weight as acutely as my own
I checked the package three times, hoping the numbers would change when i returned
282
282
282 calories
I'm having a panic attack over a snack because the one thing I crave more than anything else in the world is the sticky, nutty taste of JIF brand peanut butter of which I am undeserving

My grandmother loved peanut butter
So much that they had to hide it from her if they wanted any hope of a satisfactory sandwich
My mom hid food too
Stole it like kiss after kiss
Sneaking cookies from the houses where she babysat
Getting crumbs on her swelling chest in the dark embrace of her teenage bedroom
A buffet for one
And now I'm in my grandmothers house
Hoping that there's peanut butter in heaven
Because here there's just photographs and the lingering scent of her Chanel number 5 perfume

Like mother, like daughter, like granddaughter they say
You can trace my family line as easily as the stretch marks that litter our bodies
But I am breaking the cycle by falling into my own
I have learned that hunger pangs are better than the climbing figures on the scale
So I lift a glass of water to my lips
And I leave the peanut butter in the pantry so no one will ever have to hide food from me

I am clay on the wheel, bending to your touch
As you run your hands across my ceramic curves
I learn the terrain of your marble figure
Tracing the veins that lead to your heart
You and I are performance art
A watercolor dance on canvas bedspreads
Each sigh is a symphony
As we write music in the sheets
Together, we can paint our own starry night
With paintbrush fingertips and sketchbook skin
Though we may never display in a gallery
We quietly create a masterpiece

I thought a quilt would make a good gift
Something to keep you warm on these frigid wintry days
Something to keep you warm since I could not

So I unfolded scraps and remnants of our past
And laid them out on the floor
Piecing together parts of you and I

I found a needle and thread
And carefully stitched together the patchwork story of us
Until I had a blanket big enough for us both

Here?
Even you are
Nothing;
Worth your
Weight in
Fool's gold
~
Gold fools.
In weight,
You're worth
Nothing.
Are you even
Here?

I was never scared of my shadow as a child
I watched it dance on walls
Race across the playground mulch
Create puppets wrapped in campfire light

It wasn't until last year that I saw it begin to move on its own
Sneaking out at night, wandering places I've never been
And creeping back in through the window at dawn

My shadow took on a life of its own
Drifting in and out of rooms like a ghost
And making decisions I had no power to stop

So I watched the dark silhouette in silence,
And when I could no longer bear our dichotomy,
Detached.

When I get nervous my tongue and palms itch like ants in my mouth and handfuls of spiders anxiety crawls up and down my spine
as my heart and mind race against each other
I shake as I freeze from the inside out
and ice feverishly pumps through my veins
it's not black inside my head but a putrid yellow
Gelatinous and pulsing and clouding my vision all I can see is a spiraling blur
and I don't realize how I'm clawing at my palms
Scraping my tongue against my teeth until I taste blood
I try to exhale the hornets nest in my chest and spit out the stingers one by one
there are so many voices, none of them mine and I want to scream over the chaos
but it gets stuck in my throat
with all the other words that won't come out
I stare down at my trembling hands, and realize how much panic it's under my fingernails

It was a hot and heavy summer night
when one of us got the brilliant idea
to go skinny dipping in the river

We all knew about the boy
who had been carried away by the current
in this same spot two years ago
but no one acknowledged the elephant
in the back of the pickup truck

With our parents' stolen *****
sitting in our stomachs,
we took to the dark waters
all laughter and bare skin

Teasing and splashing and smiling
we had the time of our lives
and not one of us noticed
that we were being pulled out to sea

There is a street lamp at the end of my driveway
A luminescent lollipop
Flooding the cement with a pool of yellow light

But I'm still afraid to go out after dark
To trod through the grass or dance across concrete
And make it past that street lamp

They are on every street corner in my neighborhood
Crafting a world in which darkness does not exist
But I'm not afraid of the night; I'm afraid of being seen

I am in awe of the limitless nature of the human mind
How it stretches infinitely inwards
Containing a private universe that would be forever in isolation
Unless that individual chooses to launch out shooting stars
Rocket ships from other worlds in the form of music, poetry, art
We are sending satellite signals out from our galaxies
Desperately holding cups to our ears
Tightrope walking on the string theory