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

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

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 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

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?

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

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

I'm sorry that I can't
find the words to give you
everything that you want,
but that was never the point

with you everything is a point,
drawing blood with each
interaction and there is no
smile nor sadness in your eyes,
just glass

I wonder what you would do
with the words anyways, how
they might possibly undig the
graves that you sleep in when
you've forgotten what night is

I never imagined words meant
much in hell, but we'll say this
together now,

You've always known better than I

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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