i saw you last night in my dream.
we held tattoo guns.
we wrote the definition of friendship on each others' back.
when i finished,
your back read 'a refuge from the world.
somewhere you don't have to think about painful things.'
when i looked in the mirror, my back read
'a version of intimacy with less lying.
a way to share bruises.
a shared blood bank.'
sometimes the way you speak
makes me think you're composing letters to someone else in your head.
sometimes i think you only approached me because
you like small birds -
robins and sparrows
and wrens.
i like attack dogs.
i try not to project that onto people.
you said your name was the product of shame.
you said every syllable was a lie.
when time changes every letter of your name to different variations of
"bare legs and
brick pyramids and
ball and socket joints"
you will tell me to pronounce each syllable anew -
someone should have told you
not to build your body from bricks
when you're standing on a fault line.
don't you know california's known for its earthquakes.
don't you know subduction zones aren't just metaphors for you
and your latest lover.
stand up.
get off the floor,
stop crying.
it's not my fault you chose to love somebody.
your knees are raw and the bruises sink deep.
you laid persian rugs over all your linoleum floors
and the rugburn on your lips pays testament to your dedication.
while i am with you
you fall to the floor and whisper.
you replay every word you said to them
and fashion better lines, -here,-
-i'll show you that i love you, my tongue's between your teeth, i trust you not to bite-
you say -listen to me, listen:-
-there's a hell. i know it.-
-let's go find it.-
i keep replying but you just kiss the carpet.
when i started smoking you said you were worried about my health.
funny how you only notice something's wrong when something starts to burn.
funny how you didn't notice my white knuckles when you spoke.
funny how you didn't notice when i stopped replying.
i stripped all the color from my hair last night
i meant to dye it the color of your eyes
to remind myself of your
good points,
remind myself why i once wanted to speak to you,
but you know,
i think achromatism suits me.
hair the color of mist and smog.
i never learned the difference between smoke and fog,
i keep trying to smother clouds.
on cold mornings i close my mouth,
cover my nose,
try to starve whatever it is burning inside of me .
i suppose you'd appreciate that,
in your mind,
fire is a synonym for death.
you ***** all the candles that i light.
when i put an ember in my mouth you say -what's wrong.-
-tell me,-
-it's not healthy-
-to keep all that smoke in your mouth.-
-you can tell me about anything.-
i wonder,
who told you that spreading a forest fire
helped it to die?
i wonder who told you sharing sadness was the only way to be intimate.
well here, let's share misery. let's spread it like an infection, like an std.
1. when i am alone in crowds,
i find myself searching for faces of people i despise
that i haven't seen in years.
somehow i want them there more than the people i love.
2. i am a background character.
my only line is, 'let's get out of here.'
3.  i wonder a lot how happy i could be
if i wasn't here to drag me down.
i wonder a lot how i would have grown up in a cleaner town.
would i still be terrified of safety?
4. the only constellation i recognize is orion.
the only constellation i recognize is a hunter,
a human killed by gods,
a man slaughtered for the jealousy of the brightest god.
i tried to learn others,
but they never stuck.
never seemed quite real.
5. in a catholic classroom they taught me that G. O. D.
loved the smell of burnt flesh.
on interstate 580 my father told me never trust
a smiling god.
6. epinephrine and endorphins. epinephrine and endorphins. epinephrine. epinephrine. epinephri
7. my mother told me i was sugar and stardust and i
bled for five years
to prove her wrong:
copper and hemoglobin
and chloride.
8.  every boy looks like family i've never met.
every girl looks like a better version of myself.
9. i collect memories of girls
waiting at bus stops at night,
alone.
heads between their knees,
hollow but not empty,
trying to stay steady.
bleach sloshing in excavated ribs.  
10. sometime in the last half-year,
i have learned to despise you.
i am an american firearm and you give me another bullet every time you make your presence known.
i am a hammerhead  shark.
you poured wax into my gills
and tried to leave your seal on me.
congratulations! congratulations. you left a mark on me. you made yourself more than a friend,
you made me hate you.
do you feel significant now? do you feel special.
you can see the ugly parts now, when i spit in your face i won't make it pretty.
-you don't have to hide from me.-
-i want to see what you don't show-
merry ******* christmas! time to make good on your claims,
hope you were truthful because here.
i brought you my gangrene. i unwrapped all the bandages just for you.
sorry it's not quite as pretty
as those carpets you laid over your cheap floors.
i'll be standing by your fireplace,
lighting every candle i can find,
illuminating my body from every angle.
hope intimacy is everything you imagined it'd be.