you
you do not cry
c r y
you do not
cry you
don't
i sit beside the
mirror
cross legged and
watch
and my eyes
fill to the brim
salty water
spilling over
a deep waterfall
your eyes are
a drout
you do not cry
y o u do n' t
cr y
do you miss
my gloomy clouds?

today you made my bones shiver
like you were the winter frost
and i was an an old birch tree
i can feel my leaves turning crisp
breaking off, crumbling
deteriorating

today you made my bark peel
flecks of me twisting onto the solid dirt
turning cold in the frost, hard and stiff
leaving me naked before you
I am splinters and knots
vulnerable

today you came as the axeman
blunt weapons at my side
the deer are scattering at the noise
the birds tweeting madly, desperate
the wolves howling
you've stolen my limbs now
claimed them as your own

I am only a stump

maybe you can hear my whispering to you in the dark
my letters are crumpled pieces of landscape in the trashbin
im trying to speak to you with my silence but i cant lose my lips
blah

being
caught in your chest with
my face tucked into your shirt while
the actors fought on the screen and
i could hear the blood pouring while
you laughed at my squeals

standing between aisles
ten minutes before closing with
the music scratching softly on the speaker
my jean jacket and the plastic cup
filled with tea and the
man who looked up as i laughed

spring air on my arms as
I walk out the door and you
follow behind me shouting my name
the cool of the concrete as
I rest my head and
think about how manufactured
your smile looked
like a product you produced

curled
in a ball with the door
creaking and my breath is loud
shaking the bed
turn on the radio with the
projecting noise to cancel out
solidarity

I think you can cry away ten thousand years of dirt and grime
I think you can stuff  feelings away in a clear container too
(keep them from getting soiled)

I think "I am young and have so much to live for"
I think " everything I experience is a mistake and I must mature"
I think "I hope to god I have not yet peaked"
(its only downhill from there)
(id still rather walk up Everest and see the top than stick to the bike path beside my house)

I have no hard feelings
I will look at your skirt and think "wow"
and not comment on the person that occupies it
I can pretend you're transparent
that helps me

I like riding the bus at 8:00 am
when the windows are foggy
(I only ride in the back, on the first floor)
I thought about your birthday
coming up
I've been shivering
I can't tell if you passed through me
like a ghost, again
or if its the AC blaring on my legs
or the man's fingers I'm pressed into
I like riding the bus at 8:00 am
but I still squeeze my eyes closed at the train tracks
the AC gets a little less bearable

I know you better than anyone
so why don't I know you at all?
blonde wisps of hair used to fall into your eyes
almost transparent, angelic
now your roots are brown
and your hair falls in messy spirals away from your forehead
out of the way
I can see the blue in your eyes and it scares me
you used to look at me so tenderly
we thought about distance and the space between us
you asked me about everything
now I see exhaustion in your features
it is not the lack of sleep
I know you better than anyone
so why don't I know you at all?

I'm staring at a dead flower
I won't throw it away
It's still bright yellow
only the edges are tainted brown
and it's delicate petals are
floating in murky water and
the leaves are greying
and crumpled
the stem dripping over the rim
of the vase, pathetic
I won't let it die
come back come back please

I had a moment
I let my head rest on a cheap cotton sweater
I watched clouds shaped like pigs and birds
and I let you draw patterns on my arms
on my knees

I let ***** ***** sand
get caught in between my toes
big pebbles finding their way in between
the soles of my shoes and the bottoms of my feet
the rain water pouring down my shirt
hugging you hugging you

your cigarette smoke in my face

I sat on the blue upholstery
bleary eyes and messy haired
cool air blowing on my legs
my shoulders
thinking about the future and
asking for his number

big red fleece
big yellow wind-breaker, no hood

I only thought about you twice
maybe three times

I am ALIVE alive alive a li ve
I am stepping on dewey grass
and my hairs on my arm stand up
if I'm out past 6pm

I am screaming for you in my sleep
i know because little parts of my heart
break off and float out through my nose
and into your bedroom
but you toss and turn and
your comforter forms a little shield
and my heart pieces go to die

i am so very alive
I have short hair and short legs
and a big big crooked nose and
all of these things make me alive
and I am breathing in and out
and with each breath i am saying
come back im sorry I am saying
i didnt do anything but im sorry
i am saying it's just like last time
i am saying oh well

i will launch my heart pieces
in every direction and hope
and hope and hope
someone opens up their blankets
and lets me come in
with a brief little mumble and
an arm wrapped around my waist
"assert yourself"

I                 you                   if
have          are                     I
seen           so                      could
my            destructive        I'd
sister          you                   rip
be              have                  your
called        no                      filthy
every        self                     hands
ugly         control               away
name       I                          from
in             saw                     her
the           the                      beautiful
book        switch                image

it is okay not to have plans
it's okay you have spent m
any nights lone before toni
ght do not cry not now he
didn't notice a change but
it is there is is a glowing em
ber and when you cut off th
tips of your hair you cut off
a little tiny bit of desperation
i mean it you look better i m
ean it the change is there and
it is okay to acknowledge it a
lone it your bedroom it is oka
y to steal a beer from the lock
ed pantry and drink it alone a
nd toast yourself it is okay to h
ug yourself and laugh to yours
elf you're still ADMI R A B L E

I do not know how to cope
I've never felt uglier than in this moment
never ever ever want to feel this again
im picking at scabs
and the blood is giving me colour
making me vibrant

im not crazy nonono

this song makes me twist and turn
I must be hearing it in my sleep
I wake up s-s-s-shivering
I kick away warmth and leave it on the floor

ssshh shhh it's ok it's ok
lots of worse things have happened
just go to sleep
it's alright

just don't let them win
do not
do not let them win
w i n

im spilling tears down my shirt
im feeling stringy and bloated
im feeling worn down
I do not know how to cope

your st-st-st-stubble looks like glitter up close
you're like a star like a movie star or something

you look-k-k like a king and
and and andand
when you flex your arms I feel
a little punch! in my heart
how cliché howhowhow cliché

I REALLY LIKE TALKING TO YOU
if we had landlines I'd probably call you
and I'd hang off my bed upside down
and twirl the wire around my fingers
like in the movies! you're a m-movie star


punch!
punch! punch!

my heart's all beaten up and you're repairing hers
her heart's fine
i think i t-t-think
your glitter is getting in my nose and my teeth
your sparkle is blinding my eyes
g'night

and I felt ugly as hell and still do

I go past the timer on my toothbrush bc im afraid of cavities

(lame)

you you youyou don't think of me

youuuu

thinkin about how you'd be my one call at the police station

sorry sorry sorryyyy you're the only one who'd pick up

sorry

take me under ur wing & make me feel warm & safe & don't laugh at my double chin

thinkin' about putting a heart emoji next to your name on my contact list

(lame)

thinkin' about how you'd sneak thru the window after seeing the hill my stomach makes when im lying flat

you probably don't want a valley

im not her

sorry sorry sorrysorrry

my cat curled into my lap then brought a
chipmunk into the house and I
had to lure him outside with
treats and he dropped the chipmunk and
it lived

I went casual hoping you'd
drop by because I felt
lonely and I wanted an
adventure but you
don't even know where I live so
I put on dark eye shadow and
winged eye liner
now if you come
by I'll look like a ****

good
good good

I went walking and it started to rain and
the wind blew your image into my
mind and I swear to god you were
talking to me and I
started to cry

licorrrriiceee maaaaakees meeee bloooaateddddddddddd

good.

a little section of my skin tingled and I scratched and pinched until it stung. I can’t deal with pleasantness. On certain days I feel like maybe I am floating and I am silently praying someone will tie an anvil onto my ankle.

my house is a memory making factory. People associate my walls with stories. “Their room” and the warm bubbly water and the smooth shiny flooring. my house is a little cave in the middle of a rain storm, I’m not sure what would happen if I left it, but I think I’d feel a little cleaner, a little glossier.  

the sunlight shines through glass and leaves little patches of radiant on my dull skin. you were like a blur of sunlight that danced into my retina. I was so blinded by your beauty, by your contrast, that I forgot you are destructive. You made me squint and my eyes haven’t fully opened since.

The air smelled so floral today, so unmistakably dewey that I tried to climb my budding tree between the mailbox and the big rock. I couldn’t reach the first branch and your bark ripped my aching skin from my fingers and my palms. I forgive you. I forgive you.

why can’t I appreciate mosquitos when I am one. I **** out little bits of personality from everyone around me. each tap of the keyboard derived from a thought in my mind derived from a person I know, from a thing I’ve seen. It’s the tiniest *****, so small you’d never feel it. But the bump is there, it reminds you of what you’ve shared, what you’ve inspired. And then it disappears

I think happiness might be the split second after waking up in a new place and forgetting you’re not home. I think happiness might be the sound of the kettle clicking off. I think happiness might be rushing to something important and looking a bit like a fool as you run.

my teardrops are meeting the raindrops for the first time. they are saying hello. they have things in common. they are so happy. this is why I was born. I am a matchmaker, I’m linking fingernails to tingling skin and tree bark to palms and bits of personality to computer keys. wow.