Did I see you through the imaginary lenses again that day?
In your too big Nike’s, dragging an old tattered suitcase ready to quit long before you’d even contemplate letting up
Inside a crumpled map and a few shirts that stunk of the dead fish up the creek they’d been cleaned in

I stopped for gas even though I was full, and I almost wanted to believe that you were a mirage of love I’d never feel again
I wore an Aubrey Hepburn dress and had just been called a **** for the third time that week by some **** with a confederate flag sticker on his truck
I wondered if that made me dream you, soft, with your arms open yelling, “MOMMMMMM,” as you moved as quickly as you could towards me in giant shoes without laces

I tried to imagine what the old couple in the field thought when they saw you emerge, wide yawning out of the brush
Or the woman who brought you to the train station and asked what your mother would think about you walking New York as you held back your all encompassing laughter

Some may call it a mental break, but I knew better, I knew you were performing poetry in motion
Maybe even a months worth of writing yielded from that trek,
and as I pictured you growing in a way I couldn’t, I wished that I could take off the glasses that made the world vanish and you illuminate

I wanted so badly to chase you into the brush, to sleep rough, to forget for a moment the **** on the walls I’d have to scrub in the wee morning hours later on

Instead I shouted back, “DAAAAAAAD,” embraced your toned and warm body, and told you it was about time for a joint

who's to say there's no beauty in sagging mossy roofs on moldy double wides?

old chevy's in the front yard with the wires eaten out by the rats that steal the cherries off of your forgotten childhood tree

we wonder aloud whether we should be more afraid of the squatters or the red necks toting shotguns at the end of the road, followed immediately by musings of this being the perfect place to have babies

I can see me chasing chickens and you building a shop, and our kids rolling their eyes so often they get stuck in the back of their skulls

I wish this moss filled yard would spell it out with stones from the walls that surround it, no more pondering, just a universal understanding that we’ve driven down the right road

Instead, for now, I’ll just count myself lucky for having a partner that isn’t afraid to keep driving

how do I love a family that failed to protect me?

a mother who refuses to advocate and stand up for me because she’s so entrenched in patriarchy that she can’t imagine holding her son accountable

a father who taught us every day that violence, manipulation, and fear were useful tools against the ones you love

a brother who I emulated and admired, who took a piece of me that I’ll never get back, who attacked me and almost killed me, and now asks for my forgiveness and friendship

a sister who I have failed, despite my only intention being the ability to show up for her

I find myself bound to this, the repression wearing off with age as anchors disregard gravity and float to the surface, bringing with them darkness dredged from the depths

I keep wondering when I will transform into the me that isn’t defined by this, but the internet keeps repeating that the only transition I’ll ever make is from victim to survivor

I wish there was a slate to wipe clean, instead I am left human with humans, people with stories like the one written above, flawed and unsure of how to go on

the difficulty with remaining shrouded
comes in direct opposition to the desire to be seen

I won’t be defined by subjection to outsider’s projection of self,
but still, I am human, and the pull to be understood lingers in a way they don’t tell you about in self-help books or charts that mark the planets and stars

I wonder how loved ones will ever catch up, as I’ll forever live my life three hours behind

suicide has a way of leaving a wake of potential saviors behind it

the kind of folks who've got all the right words and silent holding of space
who've been through it too and are happy to sit in solidarity for as long as it takes
the humans who know how to create connections to the right resources and have unlimited time to sit in the muck

i wish i didn't cut you out, like a child with wild rounded edged scissors chopping her best friend out of the portrait she drew of the last time they climbed up that big hill together

i can feel your spirit bouncing around the universe still, unsure and free, just as you should have been here

the echoes of loss are always painful, but this one is strange and different, this one will whisper me to sleep until i don't wake up

he strums downstairs,
remnants of childhood and
forevermore colliding

i wished for a life just like this,
complex, beautiful, and full of living

imagine a single silk thread extending
from your soul to mine, a line that doesn't
force us too near, but reminds us of the inevitable

the star that decided upon our fate may very
well be extinct, but to it, i am forever grateful

the stars shone brightly,
each pin ***** of light
illuminating a piece of me
fully, but still, i couldn't
recognize the beauty

how many eternities have
i stood here before?

transience became a perpetual state in december
unpack one suitcase directly into another,
forget a brush and lose those perfect-fit jeans,
after all, organized chaos attracts disorganized chaos

in the name of love we wage on,
through flu ridden airports and
endless loops of the drive through gorst,
the highway is grooving ridges just for these tires

whispers of being tired, but this feeling is sadness,
the clinical kind, despite no appointments for therapy,
just not that kind of girl, that kind of blue, that kind of real
wishing for wings, shrinking and growing simultaneously

this is it! this is what you asked for,
change upon change upon change,
no sense of permanence, wild adventures -
grounding will become it's own kind of freedom

i walked in the palm of my father's hands,
uncomfortable under his gaze
i cut the strings long ago, but
this image remains, an epitaph
of my youth-filled days

i hid from the touch of my brother,
because he used to touch me in ways
i didn't like, but the strong carry on
and our hero capes we don, when really
we'd like to end it with a kitchen knife

i remember the smell of my lover,
7&7's before seven AM, he'd light
up a smoke while telling a racist joke,
i took that vice with me when i finally
got the guts to run

sometimes we celebrate
learning to press tofu
and sleeping warm

sometimes it's getting
to work 15 minutes late
instead of 50

this notion that life is a
grand adventure doesn't
always equate to climbing mountains

sometimes the molehills of
waking up and breathing
are enough

as we walk the shoreline
the sea erases us,
an eternal gift of returning
things to what they once were,
something we rarely get
to experience in this world of
metal and stone

i think of the ways i wish
my brain would wash itself,
forgiveness eternal from the
bliss of forgetfulness, no
longer enraptured by replaying
shame, defeat, and hurt on
sleeping eyelids

freedom does come with
the change of the tides

tiny toy town

if i could take my shears
and cut you a cloak from
this dark night sky, i would

the yellow water squiggles
remind me of your pupils

we're doomed to wonder,
trash heap with motor
or whale, for eternity

mother, mother, mother,
you give and you give
and still there is not enough,
never enough for the fools who walk
in eternal damnation with only
fire extinguishing the desire
that drips, long and thick from their lips

your pulse it slows, and still you
feed us and hold us and lift us up
to safety while the wolves steal
your ribs one at a time, your lungs
collapsing in on themselves as
your last gasping breath provides
the push we needed to escape

oh mother, you're trembling now,
but your warmth matters not to
the vultures who peel your skin
off slowly to make coats from
the softness that surrounds you -
what do they need coats for?
they know not the difference
between desire and need, and
their beaks are sharp, so, why not?

strand by strand they steal your
beautiful hair and weave crowns
for the men who wish they knew
for a moment how to create, but
alas, they'll never know the beauty
of birthing something like you do,
the way it feels to grow life
day by day deep within your womb

mother, i can see it now, in your
hollowed cheeks and raspy voice,
the way your bones are barely
bound in flesh, your movements
are shaky and your eyesight it fades,
and the one who once loved you
no longer cares to show you the way

with each night that passes his light
shifts to shine upon the sharks that
have come because of the blood,
your blood -  he thinks that the fish
that follow will feed him too, but
they are only symbiotic pieces of the
same murderous school that will
tear him limb from limb when
they are finished with you

mother, he'll never understand,
the hunger that he feels is not
to be fed, for the minute it tastes
the flesh it will hunger until it
eats him too and there is no relief,
no reprieve, no release, no,
there is only certain loss and death

but you, mother, you will return
and wrap your arms around your
fallen children and weep until the
ground is saturated with your love,
until the shuddering of breath begins,
until your heart beat stirs us back
into living, only to ****** again

i've turned into a wild mountain woman,
conquering peaks and balancing in poses
on a cliff's edge. my strength is my
greatest gift, my solitude, my greatest joy.
the trees and breeze my only loves
until you stumbled upon my worn dirt path.

learning to love myself through the one i choose to love

with each step along the shores of my
pristine, clear heaven I can feel your
breath in sync with mine, the trees
sway and question the heavy footfalls
alongside my short strides, and my mind no
longer lingers on each leaf, petal,
sound, no, instead it's your eyes i picture
when i inhale deeply and close mine.

learning to love myself through the one i choose to love

to share this moment, this magic
where my roots find home in a place
that i'm beginning to realize that i've
always known, the glassy water reflects
how well you fit right by my side, and
my heart whispers, "go ahead, dive."

learning to love myself through the one i choose to love

how had i gotten here?
with eyes closed, stumbling, drunk
and lost for what felt like a lifetime, but
suddenly my spine sits straight and my
mind is as calm as the clean translucent
water of this magical place that i keep
returning to, i've washed myself of the
tarnish that dulled the stars that had always
been beneath my skin, begging me
to allow their shine to brighten the
dark corners which had once consumed me

and now i'll lay back on these ancient cedars
and sing a song that's different from all of
the rest because it's you strumming the tune
and your hands are gifts from the universe,
slowly changing the way we all see this place,
one slow dive inward at a time, oh sweet man,
i no longer wonder what i did to deserve you, instead
it's "yes, life can be this good, if you allow it,"
as many times as it takes to ring true

i move quickly here
on cobblestones,
through skinny alleys,
in flat feet slapping the pavement
with echoes that reach
up to touch a sky
swirling with malevolence
in a way that makes me
feel like i'm home

the air sticks on me as
i stick on a bench and
watch a man draw a woman
into his heart and notebook
all at once while an angel
floats above the water and
weaves songs of paradise,
bursts of fire float around all
of us, whispering, "the magic
isn't dead, you've only forgotten"

clouds begin to crack open above
and the relief comes slow at
first with a steady roll of pattering
on sidewalks and bursts of light
menacing behind skyscrapers,
i begin to wonder how much
more i could levitate when you
come along and pull me up to
see that old cracked bell ring again

questioning why i'm doing this and
then it's all written in tiny print on
your too smooth skin and white
teeth despite all of the drunk cigarettes,
you're a hand painted shell begging
me to smash you open, and i can't
resist a good mess, especially if
i don't have to stick around to do
the cleaning up afterwards

i dance my way through giant
domino pieces and conversations
about human connection with eyes
as wide as they are shut, and god
****, do you want exactly that, but i'm
laughing in the bathroom, realizing
this city is romantic, but it isn't love

help me unpack this
i begged as you tried
to hide yourself behind
years of teachers who
were all miss honey with
none of the sweetness

lean any harder and
you'd fall out of your chair,
but i get it, we have a white
man at our table and he's
handsome and successful

i don't nod enough, or
mmm-hmmm, or snap (often),
and my calf-eyed stare
makes you ask, "are you
with me?" more times than is
comfortable for either of us

i'm too wide open, a
grapefruit that was run over
in the safeway parking lot
after it bounced out of your
trunk, juices oozing and
the scent of my insides
familiar, but too ****

i wait to be eaten alive,
but the bitter rot has hands
scraping worn rind off asphalt,
tossed into the garden,
among sweet peas awaiting rebirth

i don't want to immortalize you,
i want to keep you in a tiny box
with a handsome photo of you
next to each and every thing
you write when you feel whatever
it is that you feel when you write

i don't want to work hard at this,
because i know what that yields
and i'm pretty sure neither of us
has the capacity to grow much
of anything other than ourselves
into what we're destined to become

i don't know who she is,
this woman who talks to you
without fear of rejection or
retribution despite the fact
that i'm saying things i never
thought would roll off of
my disciplined tongue

i don't want much from you,
other than words and long looks
and touches and carnal attraction
and time when you can spare it
despite the truth of how little
excess either of us seem to possess

upon waking
i dance, pony, dance
and tell you what
the universe holds
in it's palms for you

my brain is still
trying to rewire
after a night of floating
that didn't amount
to much despite
the vice i placed it
within before the start

i wonder if you've
found the tiny flame
to brew your morning
coffee in that small
space you call home,
and then i realize, it
doesn't matter, even
if you're awake i still
have no business
crawling inside a place
that is explicitly yours

instead i sleep in leather
skirts and wake unable
to open my eyes because
i'm not ready to see a
world that deems me unfit
to love, despite knowing
that i'm the one doing the
reflecting and no one really
cares about my scarred
insides as much as i do

i find myself reluctant
to heal this time, working
slowly to touch every
inch of the broken and
beautiful pieces that make
me into the woman i am,
finding peace in the fact
that i am for the first time
truly and completely alone

when i hit the send button it means nothing,
not to you anyways, i keep sending the insides
of my soul, once a week, but i know
that the only response i'll get is silence

i could cry about it, but i'd rather laugh when i see you

i know, i will always see you, whether we
meet in my hometown at a gas station after
you've walked new york state, or if you
land on my couch for half a year because you
just can't get the gumption to get to chicago,
or maybe you'll be laying on my floor singing
dream girls and petting my buttery walls,
either way, i know you'll appear and it will
seem like magic, but really, that's just the
cloud of smoke you've decided to live in

i know you because i know me, the geminis,
the four weeks, we bared too much for our
hands to hold, and instead we scooped up
bits of each other as night claimed us

i will always love you despite everything that
could possibly follow despite, i just will,
because you're the imaginary friend
that somehow became a part of my reality

this moment before the real one,
you know,
when you're preparing for an ending,
or maybe a beginning,
same difference anyways, right?

i have waited so many moments to
get to this one,
only to realize it's the first moment
of many while waiting for the next one

i find myself jumping into each
without much hesitation,
but the trick isn't showing up,
it's being present

to be you is to leave a life
painted with regret in twitchy
strokes that reveal unsteadiness
in every movement of the brush

i work in certainty more often
than not, seeing the colors before
they splatter on canvass, a predetermined
image fixed in my mind's eye

my palette has changed, no longer
faded and full of sadness, now there
is a luster to the tones splayed before me,
a freedom to the movements i make

i am becoming the you, the me, my
art had always dreamed it would one
day be, i am unveiling my greatest work
yet, effortlessly beautiful in it's simplicity

quitting cigarettes
is signing my name in blood
under a contract that says,
"i'm here to live"

i look up to you tonight,
feel my breath rise and fall
with each inch that suspends
me from this earth and leads me
to a greater understanding
that we are all comprised of rising tides
controlled by the beams that
move the deepest reaches
within the very essence of
our truest selves

i've been afraid for awhile,
the kind of afraid that's kept
me inside on most weekends,
but disguised itself as my
average mental illnesses and an
obsession for the current body
resting beside me as i sleep

it wasn't until the election that
i got bold, going to the women's
march by myself, and silently
judging the lesbians beside me
as they sat on their privilege and
critiqued trump and posters -
i never thought about their fear,
the potential loss of the wedding
certificate that went along with
the rings on their respective fingers

i had always stood up for injustice
and wondered how far i could
push it with educating my students,
but when my teachers forgot the
true meaning of february, i jumped in,
i educated and asked questions and
urged my white students to realize
that they were the minority in our
afterschool program, and to open
their ears and eyes to their peers

i confronted strangers in public
places, made eye contact and
smiled at everyone i walked by,
listened earnestly to my friends
of color, hugged my lgbtq pals
harder than ever and repeated
again and again that love is love
is love is love is love is love

i took care of myself, better
than i ever had, because i knew
it was important, i did yoga 5
times a week, went hiking, ate
well for the first time in years,
i didn't sleep much, but i felt okay,
because i was doing something

this weekend i sat in my transgender
friend's home and talked about
my fear, i felt like i wanted to crawl
out of my skin as i said it because
her life is in danger, not her livelihood-
her life- and though i may translate
this into some noble act of wanting
to save all of the children who need
love most in the world, the truth is,
i love my job and i love to serve others,
and i'm not sure i have meaning without it

my fear, it feels transparent, and i'm still
trying to find the space to hear the
validations from people who haven't
yet been confronted by the ****'s knocking
at their door, but rest assured, they
will come, and if you're lucky enough to
be a part of the 1% i hope that the
cries of hungry children, the ringing of
bullets ripping into black bodies, the
screams of transgender people being
murdered, the howls of mexican families
being torn apart limb by limb, the
images of wet syrian toddlers washing
up on the shores of greece will haunt you
endlessly as you sit on your filthy money
and do all of the personal trainer yoga
you can to find what will never come - peace

i feel the water amass beneath my dark circles,
pushing against my eyeballs with the gentle whisper that says,
"this release is just what you need,"
but still, i can't allow it because i'm the steady hand,
the rock through this **** storm that will see everyone
through to the other side of the choppy waters before us

i wonder what life on the other side of the chasm
will really look like, if this utopia is nothing but a farce
that they've written in children's books and bibles alike
to keep us hunting and holding onto the only shreds of
humanity left in a world intent on murdering love

i feel the pieces slip between my finger tips, and they
linger in the air longer than gravity should allow, but still,
i cannot catch them no matter how quick and agile i become,
so i try being flexible instead and the back bends serve me
well until they don't, but that doesn't stop me from continuing the practice

i stay awake and bathe myself in moonlight even when
the clouds hide all of the pieces of me that i thought were already
illuminated, i lose myself in moments of stillness in a bed that
doesn't really belong to me, but really, what do any of us truly
own on this rock hurtling through time and space? i wonder about
that for a long while and hum along to tunes that belong in music boxes,
not the heart of a girl who will never commit long enough to release them

i sit in the sadness so long that the muck dries like a crackling mask
over my entire being, the peeling back reveals loss on a scale i still
don't really comprehend, but still, my feet move forward into one day
followed by the next and the next and the next, and in the moments that
i find stillness i think nothing, just relish in the embrace of an effortless breath

you are wholly you and sometimes that means
that you're not a poet because you're a yogi
or a program manager or a sister or a friend
or a hiker or an auntie or a crying mess in your bed

i'm sorry for trying to shackle you to the notion
that you have to dream one dream and be
the thing you drew on your "all about me" poster
when you were in first grade and they told you
that you could only grow up to be one particular thing

i love you for being multidimensional, for capturing
the world in film, footprints, fountain pens, and friendship,
for being able to cut the dead weight out even if
those pounds feel like the most essential part of you in
this moment though you know that they have been sitting
directly on your chest and stifling your every effort to breathe

i love you because you are you, and at this point you
finally feel okay with that, and so you're able to look out
into the world and truly begin to love others in a way you
never conceived possible - your innate quality of giving has
taken on meaning that stretches beyond band aids and equality,
and instead reaches realms of equity and true understanding
despite the fact that the lens you see through is nothing like anyone else's

i love you because you are learning and willing to grow, and
a lot of growing happens to mean letting go, even if the emotions
you feel are validated and warranted, you've learned to see them,
to be them, and to breathe them back into the universe instead of
placing them in the mason jar that lives beneath your rib cage
until they explode and sends shards of glass into your most vital organs

i write to you to let you know that i'm proud of each moment you
decide to take care of yourself even if that only means washing your
face before bed time, for being brave enough to make decisions
based on you instead of him, for standing up for what you believe
and equally as much for admitting when you're wrong, for living a life
no longer based in fear, but in love for yourself and all of humanity

i was recently told that i'm no poet,
that my words don't evoke art or understanding,
that i haven't grown much, so i took that and chewed it
until it fed my insides and turned my eyes outward on
a world that i haven't dug into at all with words left
jumbling around in a brain used for other means,
i've been forcing my hands and heart to mold this world into a better place,
but without my words what capture will i leave behind, what legacy?

i marched with womxn last month, alone and surrounded by 140,000
others who gabbed and growled about a man with tiny
hands who employs those who want to take control of our reproductive rights,
and wants to throw some of us out of the country, and **** us in the streets,
but the white ladies behind me were more concerned with their clever signs
than the native's plight for their land and the black lady's murdered babies and the burkas being ripped off of women trying to buy skirts in a walmart

i guess i have a hard time finding my america in all of this mess -
i'm a white woman, but i didn't vote for trump
does that make me different? does that make me woke?
i want to join arms and resist with everyone who's ever felt
like they're less than because of something they were born being,
but i'm still not quite sure how to shine solidarity without seeking recognition

i think we all desire ego to be stroked, but how can i want for that
when some people just wish to live? i look long and hard at myself everyday
after too many hours reading about the chaos and sadness so readily
accessed at keyboards stroked by too quick fingertips, the tears they
come and the heart lays heavy, but what do i do? i rally other white folks
to march, i try to change their hearts, i explain what being an ally looks like,
i work in the communities that need it most, i love the children who feel alone,
but i wonder how much of this is for me and how much of it is true love

i'm learning, growing, changing always, but fear holds me in a place between
truly giving and giving just to fill my own cup, the world has changed and the
little girl who stood up to bullies still sits inside of my heart, but the bullies are
corporations, and the president, and coworkers, and family members, and
friends at a super bowl party, so i've got to find a way to be strong with my
solidarity no matter who, what, where, why, when, because this matters and i don't
want to be that person standing up only to put it on instagram, no i want to
affect real change, to be a part of history, to truly love all of my fellow human kind

i want to give from a place of caring without condition, a place that sees color, sees faith, sees gender identity, sees ****** orientation, sees *** work, sees disabled folk,
and doesn't pretend that their story is one that i understand and echo because
i have ovaries and know what it feels like to be frightened, no, i can't put my ******
on a pedestal and use it as a badge of courage anymore, it's time to open my heart
and ears and truly be humbled in the honorary process of letting myself learn

just because i've felt real fear, doesn't mean i know anyone else's fear, and the only
way that i will come to be a true empath, a true ally, a true warrior is if i learn to quiet
the voice within my head and listen when others speak from their darkest depths,
i must build my strength, my bonds, my heart, my mind so i can lift those up, serve as a megaphone for the voices quieted by men in uniform and suits, pound the pavement as a truly intersectional, solidarity-filled sister of every man, woman, child, they/them, that has ever felt alone, that has ever wanted for more, that has ever been denied
the privilege that i benefit from just by living, as a white woman in this world

i worked endlessly to extract the pieces of you from my brain,
silently sawed my skull open as i slept and plucked each
memory of us moving towards forever together with the
tweezers you left behind from that time you got a splinter and i
held you tenderly as i removed tree matter from your skin

that's one of the first ones that came back, followed by us
riding our bikes to the beach to drink beers and celebrate one year
even though the storm was coming and we only had that one old
ratty towel, i photographed you there and often looked at that image
of you after alcohol ruined us both and turned you into someone without
eyes that were smiling and skin no longer tender from being punctured with ink

i hid in that image of you, bronzed and perfect, content and looking
ahead to following me across the country to become a permanent
fixture in the family unit we had created over 3,000 miles away from
the one i was trying to escape, you were the one who reminded me
that there never really was escape, only ignorance, and i laughed at you,
wondering why you would damper our dreams with what i considered sadness

now the tears surround me, a curtain to the outside world that soaks
me in all i had worked so hard to lose, all i had refused to look in the eye,
all i had thought left me the moment i left you, but in all of my forgetting i had lost
sight of the understanding that pain doesn't fade that way, only tucks itself away
silently and patiently waiting for the relaxation, the lack of resistance, the remembrance

i swore to myself
that i'd stretch you away,
each breath a release
of the negative space
you occupied as your
hands roamed and found
all of the pieces of me
that would never be perfect

i imagined us floating
above the water, lost in the
cracks between the planks
of wood that you cut and
measured as the callouses
became rougher on each
of your fingertips

i longed for them to get
snagged once more as you
took off my stockings, or
brushed my hair from my
face to see that i was only
a child waiting for someone,
anyone, to love me

i could still smell the wet
and hear the drops fall in
that measured way they do,
i allowed myself to be draped
in the clouds and the vapor
felt like your big dog breathing
on the back of my neck

i laid still and wondered what
it might be like to do so
in the tiny slice of heaven
you had created for yourself,
knowing i would never know

i wondered if it was the spots
or the lack of security, or
maybe it was the secrets
that i couldn't help keeping
even when my tongue
tried it's damnedest
to tell the truth

i woke up and my eyes
were still the same, clouded
and looking for something
i wasn't ready to see, 'maybe
tomorrow,' i whispered as
i found solace in my own
arms that rocked me back
to the inevitable in between

the day is long
my body weary
the mind is strong
my heart sees clearly

for this i was born
no more denial
the light has shown
the end of the spiral

i float above me
within and without
i now know free
comes at cost of doubt

the love that i have
explodes never ending
the love that i give
is well worth sending

i cut the rope
and here i stand
i hold now hope
in both of my hands

i'm everything i already knew that i was. a strong woman, with convictions that wilt like flowers that aren't meant for the 90 degree weeks we've been getting here in april. we sit around and fan ourselves with half thoughts, and you pretend that my sweat is the sweetest elixir to ever pass your lips. you make me sick with the way you look at me, but for a long time i can't stop trying to memorize the exact color of the water or the sky your eyes are. when i finally realize why, i'm taking myself in, dizzied by the likeness between her and i, and my mind, it keeps glitching as you and he run together. i'm confused at first, uncertain, but then i realize this is my subconscious speaking, the universe cross firing my faulty wiring to wake me up. you've given enough to everyone else, and i know you won't stop, but in this way it must end now. find a way to love yourself through the one you choose to love.

i have taught myself
to ignore the tiny bells
that constantly ring
inside of my head,
the first warnings of
my wrong-doings,
the perpetual chiming
of my intuition telling
me that i should stop
the car and turn around

this year has been
nothing but me pretending
things are fine, when
my heart, mind, and soul
are in agreement that
they are anything but fine

my new years resolution
will be to stop smashing
the ******* bells

i've met you before,
watched you mutate,
witnessed the moment you crumble
and usually i lend a hand
in putting you back together

i've seen who you are,
a self prescribed new birth,
but still the same sad sack that felt like
you had to leave it all behind
to really start over

i've laughed at you in secret,
knowing that will never do the trick,
no amount of outward reimagining could
ever undo the fact that you
will never love who lives within

i've learned from you, finally,
watching my own potential destiny,
as it unfurls slowly and surely in the
same steady footfalls that
only ever lead to self destruction

i've longed to let go of you,
but without my own permission,
i always came back to the place where
you stand still in time stuck
battling between ego and self

i've met you before,
seen where this takes us,
and this time i've decided to forget
my innate empathic impulses
and to run like hell

chaos is overwhelming, innate, a perfect picture of what i've become
i live within it, no, i thrive within it,
pushing myself to levels i probably didn't need to reach,
but here i find myself, and often,
i'm alone

i wonder about what it all means, the pushing and the pulling,
the wanting and the nothingness, how i can wake up in love
and by nightfall all i want is to curl up inside of myself

there are moments when you're inescapable, but i'm
beginning to wonder if you've know about my evasion
from the start and have gotten too good at pretending

i wish i could be the woman i am sometimes, the one
that sees you for who you are and understands that
we all progress at a pace the stars decided lifetimes ago

instead i mirror my own destruction upon you, perhaps
because i see the chaos looking out at me from your
eyes that still seem young, and are nothing at all like my own

each of you reminds me
that strength manifests
magic and majesty at it's
own rate and pace
within each of us

i hear the roar of the lion,
see the silent slow build
of muscles below the surface,
smell the sweet satisfaction
of forging familial ties,
touch the tangible results
of big brains and hard work,
see the bravery it takes to
let love in after horrific loss,
and taste the treats only
an open mind can unleash

each of us wholly woman,
with wombs that grow
babies, change, and inspiration-
all creators in our unique
capacities, with hearts
as full as the moon that
moves the waves within

how tricky these traps are that i set stealthily in the deepest dark nights for myself

the desperate stench of desire wafts up and reminds me of every moment i chose a him over me, simultaneously

i look into your eyes and see the fear that looked out of my own and washed over my world for so many moons

for this reason i am hardened and softened all at once, my legs moving before the decision has even registered in my brain

i weep then, not because of loss, but because of the growing pains that have finally manifested tangible change

tonight i count the ties
that keep me coming back
to this point, this place

i realize rope is just that, rope,
and it's my choice whether
i cut it or hold on

the slack loosens it's grip
and freedom unfurls that's
been between my fingertips all along

destiny discusses destination
with me as i sleep and keep
a mind that's as open as blue skies

i wake and sit heavy
in happiness, in understanding,
in self-propelled evolution

i hold myself and finally feel
pride for the strength i've used
to lift myself up time and time again

there are days
where i stand in the
steaming heat of the
shower and feel my pores
purge days of giving,
giving, giving, until
i'm nothing but a bag
of skin and bones

i stand there and repeat
to myself as many times
as it takes, "allow yourself
to be the woman you are"

this is what i call cleansed

i wish i were concrete,
resolute reality,
little to no confusion,
sure, steady steps in
any direction
whether it be north,
south, east, west,
that's not the point,
i just wish i was steady,
a rushing river,
a tree through the seasons,
with no wondering,
or wandering,
roots in the ground,
knowing myself
without any thought
because i was born
to be exactly
who i am

i lay at night on wooden planks
and watch the universe move
across the skies above, which move me

i see myself floating among them,
them floating within me, bursting through
eyelids as passions are revealed

gentle hands reach and run their fingertips
through wild hair, triggering memories that say
i am everything i've ever dreamed i'd be

my life, mired by tragedy,
defined by triumph, lived
as best as i can muster,
which is pretty good lately

i feel myself unfolding into
who i want to be, but still
there are points where the
transformation is nearly
unbearable, the height of
the discomfort that comes
hand-in-hand with change

i find myself proud, exhausted,
lost, sure, alone, but the
point is that i find myself,
a gentle reminder that i'm
doing alright simply by being

the voices in my head
become undead
the voices in my head
become undead
the voices in my head
become undead

and i am nothing
but a memory

the tree's roots reaching down to hell and branches soaring up to the heavens reminds of us of the duality that dwells within.

lest we forget our immortality, the fallen giants of the forest reminds us that immortality forgets no one - we all return to feed the earth.

sometimes i want my skin to crawl -
i want to sit my bones in muck and sink
until my nostrils are just above the level
where i can no longer breathe

i want to purge myself of every great loss,
that's ever been or will come to be

i want to exist in every moment that i live,
to feel every emotion with an earnest heart,
to see every sight with wide eyes and an
open mind ready to learn, unlearn, relearn

i want to evolve, though the process
will be painful and neverending - i want to grow

to sink slowly i write word after word to you -
wondering, but only sometimes

i don't worry but a little, and i'm sure to do it
in spanish because i feel more romantic that way

i wait every once in awhile, but even then i'm still
moving - you see i am free now and to me that means
never sitting still, even when i do rest my bones

i see something within you even though my eyes
aren't looking at you, i see it in the ether and in the
in between and in the night sky and in the lake bottoms

i see it when i wake and when i drift and when i am not
sure if i'm here nor there

i see it in the cards i read and the breath that moves me and
the stretch that soothes and the stars that speak

i wish to scoop you up into my mountains and hide you
in the craters of the crescent moon that kisses their peaks

i wish to build tracks next to yours and roam this earth
parallel with one another, until we've nowhere else to roll

i wish to know you, and for once, i think,
i'd like to let someone know me

i find myself weary now,
worn thin by the desiring,
  washed up on the shore of my own island
   where i keep returning,
                                        alone

how do i put into words
that the weight of want crushes me

that i had you and now i don't,
and there are so many others
that have laid in my arms,
but i remain a clam shell
refusing to open up into
the lotus i'm destined to become

i lay at night and think of
you, lightly brushing my skin,
the deep release we both felt
in the moment we allowed ourselves
to dip back into the same spot
of the universe, that moment
of presence within and without each other

i lay there and i tell myself it means
absolutely nothing, that you are
there and i am here, and that it will
always remain that way even when
you're standing nose to nose with me

i lay there and love you and am sure
to stay silent because i can't bare to
break into the unknown and possibly
sink further into this sadness that i've
worn draped around my shoulders
for more moons than i'd like to admit

i am crushed by a loss i haven't experienced
yet, but i mourn just the same

the reporters kept going on and on
about how shocked they were that
the cold had come after the hottest
summer on record- didn't they
know that nothing lasts forever?

i refused to put shoes on, which
didn't matter much since i wasn't
making it out of bed most days

saving you was ruining me, and
then like magic- ****! you were
gone, but the smell of your decay
stuck to my skin like the smell
of your american spirits

i drew out the demons slowly,
agonizing over each lost smoke-
wanting to really feel the
**** i scraped off of my insides

i kept picturing you, shaking
because your body couldn't live
without 7&7's - christ, who had
you become? still, your eyes were
the same, but the look you gave
me had changed, and maybe my
eyes told a different story now too

i sang sad songs to the mountains
as the sun went to sleep, tears
came one at a time, but the silence
was deafening

time spent staring at nothing as
i traveled elsewhere in memories,
whether they were real or dreams
i still can't be sure

i looked back at myself and read,
"i remember when i was lost and
confused." how ironic and presumptuous
i had been, how little i had understood
about life, about how change happens-
through acute, exhausting, and
harrowing pain

i thought that i could give away pieces
of myself and still remain living,
but scooping your soul out
is so much easier than filling it

last night i laid in bed next to my sister
and recounted the ways we had both
tried to squeeze ourselves
into the sausage casing
society said we should fit into

how she spent 2 years waiting
until 2 pm to allow her body nourishment

how i had made it to 27 and suddenly
had the epiphany that i could
starve myself to the size i wanted be

how our father and grandfather
spent endless moments passing
judgments on our bodies and
smashing us into the ground
with each pound that graced our wide hips

how she told everyone she
was a runner, but couldn't
hide from her roommates worried
glances at her bones poking through
workout clothes that never got a
drip of sweat on them

how i taught young girls to love
themselves day after day,
while i shook and trembled from
the lack of love i had for myself

last night we laughed about how
skewed our views had become
from our grandma and mother
telling us their weight, analyzing
their curves in the mirror as we
laid in their beds watching and learning

i vowed to harbor a warrior in my
womb one day who i could speak
freely with about the horrors of
self hatred and hopefully instill
a strong foundation of faith in self

i hope one day i raise someone
who never looks in the mirror and
wishes pieces of herself away

i hope one day i raise someone
who sees herself fully, not just as a shell
of a human worth nothing more than
the label on her clothes and
the number on the scale

i hope one day i raise someone
who sees herself most worthy of love

sometimes my head emerges,
i breathe deep in clear skies and then
again, i'm lost
deep within the fog that makes it hard
to know which way
is home