And I'd rather make sense
than still be with you
again.
Only time can be a
prophet, & it sees all in
the end.
Yes I'd rather pretend
than be a shadow once
again.
I won't volunteer my
heart when finally
it's mine to lend.

Dear Him,
My name is, wouldn’t you like to know? Wouldn’t you like to see what I see every day? You’re fragile and simple and just pink, raw humanity all rolled into this shape, this form, this line of your jaw. I want to fix you.
Just don’t let me down. Don’t let me think that this will be over, because I can’t stick up for you all of the time. I’m moving on to greener grasses. I’m done with these half empty glasses. Does it matter that I’m hurt when your lying broken on the floor? I want to fix you. I want to pull the gray that’s shading your life and twist it round my finger. I want you to know, and to remember that this isn’t who you are. Life is a process of becoming, and we need to figure out who we want to turn into. Don’t turn into one of the bad guys. My heart breaks every time. Every time. And I won’t let it break again.
*I will fix you.

Like watercolor paintings our sadness pooled at our edges, deepening our pigment, staining every move. And I turned into you like something tragic, something broken- voicing apologies, but with sweet security you traced a finger to my lips and kissed them speechless.
So we melded together, twisting like ribbons ‘round our limbs, every exhale his inhale, every arch of my back supported by gentle hands, fingers curling into skin. He stole my breath, leaving crimson bruises in the curve of my neck.
Then suddenly I ended and he began. Vaguely aware of my nails along his spine, I couldn’t tell which heartbeat was mine anymore. No space between us, just skin on skin on skin on skin ‘til the blur of motion was just waves on the ocean that was us. No more soft spoken sighs, names whispered into the night- down to bare raw syllables, kissing shoulders, enveloped in his arms- I felt connection I’d never known before. Something pure, something more.
Last night our hurt became the glue that bound us to each other. And I’ll never forget such love.

I love how
your laughter
surprises your eyes.
As if they were so used
to broken syllables, they
think laughs are heartache in
disguise.
And I love how
your hands fit
so softly in mine.
How they tighten like they're
worried I'm not what's
advertised.
You're worth those smiles.

I am bleeding blossoms of
virility- thorns are sprouting from
my chest.

I'm trying hard to feel
security. Trying harder not to
guess.

It's always a second chance
with me.

I am a gasp of
breath, drifting on the
winds of change
breezing through your
window.

But I just want to know why you’re
so old, so cold, so bone-chillingly
alone
out here.

You’re my Sky.

And I just don’t understand where
Mami is where daddy with the big hat
could be while you
shiver and shake I
can’t take
you back there with me.

You’re my Sky.

So we huddle under stars while the cars
they drive they’re faster than your
heartbeat it’s slowing let’s play
a game while we
shiver and shake I can’t take
you back there with me.

You’re my Sky.

We wait.

The sky presses down on
us, this town, this
dump, this place where down
is up. Where up is out, where
swinging at night is
the only way to doubt
you’re dying.

And it’s carried me this far-
I wear this town like an
old scar- It’s been hard.
But I’m not dying
anymore, I’m flying out this
door- I’m moving,
I’m living,
I’m out.

You’re kind of a
mess girl. All jumbled up, all
pulling at your hair, can
you remember
Sun anymore?

And you’re kind of a
wreck the way you
shake from side to side like
someone’s rocking your
insides, like something’s
scared behind your eyes-
I know you’re hurting,
I know the signs,
but smoke before
fire every time

Just let me save you.

Everything’s lost it’s
color, Mands, everything’s
going grey. I don’t know
where all the pigment
went- It’s all just
faded away.
And I don’t know why
I can’t picture the
Sky- I’ve forgotten the
shape of clouds.
Please help me, friend,
please show me the way.
Coz I just
don’t know how.

veins like cracks
crawl up your arms.
ironic that they house the
glue that keeps you
held together.

I’ve reread my life and burnt it
in a trashcan. I’ve made a
real man a boy and back again.
I’ve taught myself to forget better
than I remember.
I remember everything.

I’ve made myself someone, lost her,
re-begun. I’ve written my dreams on a
napkin and stuffed them in a toy gun.
Shot it and lost a loved one.
I’ve lost everyone
at one point.

Sighs curl out her mouth like smoke- tendrils beckoning as so many fingers. It’s crass and brutal and he can’t help it. People talk about it the next day. How raw, how savage. Nobody does things like that. What are they?

And they fold themselves into each other like ghost stories ‘round a fire. So different, so vogue. Spilling secrets out of shaky teacups, giggling through tears they blend and have something we can never have. So on the surface.

Who are they? Their hearts pinned on their sleeves with needles- bleeding ink in blossoms over shoulders, arms, hips, hairy shins. They’ve forgotten need in their world of want- it’s all over them in points. So tragic, so couture.

They used to be us.

Alright, alright so I’ll
write something
down. I’ll try to turn
this into paper, try to
turn this **** around.
Alright so I’ll
write something slightly
profound, I can’t deal with
all this ******* without
marking it down.

Let’s just skim the
surface like mist, like
this haze that fades my
eyesight when you’re near me.
Let’s just catch eyes and hands
and pretend we don’t do this
together.
Let’s just lie.

Drowning in sunshine,
we are floating towards
oblivion, we don’t even care
what state we’re in, coz
we’re here amongst the clouds.
And gently, oh so gently ‘long the
surface of some heaven when
you notice we’re alone again,
they’re all down there and they
don’t care, just waiting, watching,
wishing they were us.

Sadness is blowing all across the sidewalks here. This town is an old scar, worn on the arms of too-tough teenage skinheads. I don’t belong here anymore.
I tried to become someone who fades into the background here, just another curly head in a sea of Texas hair, but I’m too different to be the same. I come from water, brownstones, and seasalt air. I don’t belong here anymore.
And so I write letters back to Boston and empty homesickness into little paper cups, saving it for later. I can be alright here, growing up and meeting people I could’ve never imagined, if I want it. The question is, do I? I feel like I don’t belong here anymore.

Did I ever?

We’re inches, seconds,
fragile moments apart
and I can feel the heat of your lips and
taste the beating of your heart.
We’re frozen, painted, suspended
in time- but I don’t care that
I can’t touch you as long as you’re still mine.

I found my old journal
and a chewed up black pen.
I’m going to black out every
“hate” and put in
some ”love” again.

My spine aches;
the spaces ‘tween my
vertebrae are screaming with
desire.
I long to feel your lips
trace the curve that dips above
my hips and travels towards
my shoulder blades. The dotted
line that only your mouth
can follow, leading your soft
whispers towards my
pale, awaiting ears.

The sound of a broken heart
isn't exactly what you'd expect.
No tinkling of shattered glass,
no tearing of cheap fabric-
Just that eerie, panicked silence
after the bomb of being wrong.

I'd forgotten how
beautiful the merging of
two bodies could be.

We breathed each other's
pain in- oxygen. And then
I grew up. Sorry.

His promises used to
mean nothing to me-
like they grew on trees and
my life was a forest fire.
But I don't play with matches
anymore.

Your beauty broke me to
a fragile, fractaled mess
upon the floor.
I can’t stumble through these
sentences- they’re null without
my tongue and it can’t function while
I look at you. Those things you do
are breaking me apart.
You stole my heart and then you
fixed it. Mixed it into color once
again.
*Your love is art.

I want to trace you like the winds trace falling leaves. I want to collect on your fingertips like so many drops of rain; staining them with a pigment only you and I can understand. I’d like to taste the thoughts that stream across the pavement as you walk, leaving prints of pain and frailty in your wake. And I need the silence of your dreaming as I try to stop myself from pleading, as I try to keep my heart from bleeding out this ardor I’ve inside.
I want to trace you like the winds trace falling leaves.