i can’t even write it down
how i’m feeling
sad
scared
hurt
broken
are not quite right
maybe lost
definitely lost
but that’s not it either
one day
i hope to find the words
or to stop the feeling
whatever comes first

the boy who grabbed me at a party
and ran his hand up my inner thigh
while i stood tense and
pushed his hand away
lives on the 13th floor of my building
i get to ride the elevator with him
while he takes out his trash
and somehow i feel ashamed
the air in the elevator seems to disappear
i have to remind myself how to breathe
i think about how i should not have worn
THAT costume
because somehow my clothes act as
an invitation to my body
and when my friend sees him get in the elevator
she can no longer speak
and when the doors to my floor finally open
i cannot stop myself from crying
the tears feel hot running down my cheeks
and i have to remind myself
that the air is safe to breathe
that my body belongs to me
that i did not invite this

and now that you have seen all of me
not all of me exactly
but more of me than anyone else
i am terrified
because i still feel vulnerable
in your arms

i thought that writing had become
a part of me
but when i start to feel better
i stop writing
and maybe i am not me
when i am feeling better
what a terrible thought to have
is it possible to be me
and happy at the same time

i wake up in a panic
body sweating , palms dripping
teeth clenching
heart somehow both tight and racing
you are back
an unwelcome ghost
in a home that is my body
and what i am to do now
when all that is left
is a broken sidewalk
cracked
and repaved with my mistakes

i have an obsession with language
particularly the failures of language
because there will never be
enough words to explain
the heartache i feel
upon coming home
and the confusion i feel
about not being happy

when i am away
i would do anything to be here
and when i am here
i do not feel at home
somehow this room is mine
and not mine at the same time

is there a word for
a home that is no longer a home
is there a word for a home that is
a home but it is not mine anymore
is there a word for so badly missing a place
that no longer exists
is there a word for all of this
there should be

so why is it
when language seems to fail me
i feel a sudden urge to write
the irony hits me in the stomach
like the mistakes i cannot stop making

i know that language will always fail me
and yet
i will never stop searching for the words

is it bad
that i don't want
to write about you?
this should be new
and exciting
it should be
jumping in without
fears of falling
it should be
sunflower smiles
but i cannot do that yet
i cannot give you the sun
if i have not found it again
so please
be patient
and i hope my pen
will pick you up too