The right person, the wrong time.
The right script, the wrong line.
The right poem, the wrong rhyme.
And a piece of you that was never mine.

streaming tears
sea salted

as ancient as water
crashing waves

I painted his nails hot pink,
called it a joke,
but we both held on
too long.

He hummed my favorite song,
two notes behind,
like catching up
was close enough.

He carried me upstairs once —
said I was light.
I believed him.

The polish chipped.
We didn’t.

Now,
he’s a voice
I scroll past,

and somewhere,
a pair of chipped pink nails
he never scrubbed off

a moth mistook my lamp
for the moon,
and broke itself
believing
the light was love.

The white quarter socks with pink flowers in the bottom corner of my dresser (grey now)
The brown rope hammock at the Botanical Gardens
College dorms
April
Blue light glasses
UPS Trucks (and whatever they’re carrying)
Dark flannels
Pink and navy and gold (and cinderblock walls)
Magic mushrooms
The bridge halfway down at Max Patch (the beginning of the end)
Electric bills (in summer time heat)
Harry Potter
Halloween
Scoreboards (and their keepers)
Psychics in Manhattan  
Cheap water bottles
Linguists
Architects
Couch ***
Vans (the sneakers)
Personality tests
Long, natural nails
Duffle bags
Biscuits at sunrise

Living Sadness in a world that doesn’t stop moving,
Just because you’re sad

Forgiveness on the tip of the tongue

The strange intimacy of unspoken truths
Of sacred silence
Of quiet, forbidden longing  

The mad unfurling of a blueish love-
A love somewhere between earth and sky
Friend and Foe
Flame and ash and all that burns

Folding a corner
Turning a page
Finishing a book
Keeping it on the shelf
Forever,  
Even if just for the memory

These are the things,
The things that make me think of you.

Living Sadness in a world that doesn’t stop moving,
Just because you’re sad

Forgiveness on the tip of the tongue

The strange intimacy of unspoken truths
Of sacred silence
Of quiet, forbidden longing  

The mad unfurling of a blueish love-
A love somewhere between earth and sky
Friend and Foe
Flame and ash and all that burns

Folding a corner
Turning a page
Finishing a book
Keeping it on the shelf
Forever,  
Even if just for the memory

These are the things,
The things that make me think of you.

When people enter my room now
I corner myself to the edge of the bed
And get ready to cover my ears
Like a scared dog
And scared dogs
Aren’t scared of everything because they’re wimpy
They’re scared because they had to be

Even when people get disappointed
The child cries because he didn’t get to pet it
The owner looks at it with pity
But the dog feels it mist continue

though not violent
It will bark
And though not in danger
It will whimper

Not because it’s wuss
But because they can’t truly trust everyone
After their first owner
After those horrors
No one it’s at the back of its cage
Scared