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I wear my heartache like a battle standard.
It ripples above my head declaring:
This is who I am, all I am.
This is what I feel.
This is where my focus will be
This is the core of my identity.

As high and plain as I am,
conspicuous still not
worth a second glance.
No threat of harm to anyone,
and undeniably unalluring.

It simply moves through the warfield
no more than an unmet presence
November 9, 2019
Quixotic Jul 12
My whole life
people have talked about hands
and arms
and hearts
plaguing them in their solitary sorrow.
But since I let you go
I've found that isn't true.

I miss you in my wrists.
Your hands spilling over mine,
our wrists meeting,
kindling soft warmth in the tender places.

Your bicep trapped in my hands,
my fingers traveling streams beneath your skin,
my wrists hidden away in the reservoir of your arm,
still and secure.

I miss the spots where my wrists would meet your neck
each time you kissed me,
when my fingers twisted in your hair
and I could feel your pulse beating beneath mine.

The thought that I made a mistake--
the fear that I'll never
find that
again--
is what haunts me.
The pain of it travels with me
always sitting in two places
and it knows no rest.
Keeps me sprawled and awake in the night
Keeps me sullen and numb in the day
Keeps me scattered from focus at work
Keeps me docked on the precipice of tears:
Hastily duck under my desk to wipe at my eyes with a shoelace.
Talk too excitedly to disguise my bright eyes,
Fake a sneeze to blame my sniffs on pollen.
Force laughter at things that aren't funny.
Chug water to account for frequent trips to the restroom.

Massage the base of my palms to try to soothe the aching.

The place I miss you is my wrists.
June 2019
Quixotic May 15
Hey.
I honestly don't know if you even exist.
And I know people say that all the time about the person they are meant to be with but they always find someone but I am different.
I'm just like everyone else in a LOT of ways but in this matter I am so wholly different.
I am broken.
I want too much of so much.
And I have no reason to believe that there is someone out there who will be what I want, no matter what those two dreams I had ages ago suggested.
Because I have had SO MANY experiences where I took comfort in something that turned out to be COMPLETELY wrong.
So who's to say those dreams meant something?
Probably they just meant nothing.
And I'm angry.
I'm angry at myself for still wanting something I don't honestly think I'm any good at.
I'm angry at myself for not being able to let it go.
I'm angry at myself for sharing too much of myself and expecting people to not be freaked out by it.
I'm angry at myself for just BEING so much.
Too much.
Too much body,
too much voice,
too much emotion,
too much passion,
too much inability to weather my feelings.
Too much.
Why should I hold on to hope that someone will come along and suddenly see all that as good things?

I shouldn't.

I am too much.

I hope for your sake you find someone who will be perfect for you.
I hope you live a long, happy life and that when you die you make it to heaven.
I hope your dreams come true.
My dream was you, but I hope I can find a way to let that go.
Anyway. Bye. I wish you joy.
Quixotic May 11
Have you ever
held flower petals
picked before they completely
unfurl?
While they're still
fresh and untouched
by insects
or sunshine
or any of it?

Being told I'm beautiful
by you
feels like that.
There is a power to be found in being told you are lovely by the right person, as if someone that matters to you can look into you and see that you are ready to burst forth and bring the world a brand new sparkle and wonder
Quixotic May 3
Take a bite
Swallow
Take a bite
Swallow
Take a bite
Swallow
Take a bite
Swallow
Take a bite
Swallow

Take a bite
Swallow

Another bite

Swallow

Swallow while the bird on the plate peers up at you with sparkling eyes

Why can’t you eat like a bird?
Peck into a seed
One by one
Peck
Swallow
Peck
Swallow
Peck
Swallow
Fly away

Tiny stomach
Hollow bones
Floating on the wind
Spilling feathers
Nature’s confetti

Distract yourself
Rub your dog’s tummy while she peers up at you with sparkling eyes

Why can’t you ***** like a dog?
Gorge from a food bowl
*****
Gorge
*****
Gorge
*****
Bark at a car

Narrow waist
Powerful legs
Streaking through the field
Spilling fuzz strands
Nature’s confetti

Distract yourself
Gaze into the mirror while you stare out at yourself with sparkling eyes
Why can’t you be the girl in your dreams?
Weep
Breathe
Gag
Breathe
Pills
Breathe
Sink to the floor

Bulging belly
Thunder thighs
Writhing on the bathmat
Spilling saliva and tears
Failure’s confetti
April 9, 2019
Quixotic Apr 17
Spring breeze blows the fringe
From her eyes; the sun sparkles
Down on fresh blossoms.
Quixotic Feb 7
Like a raindrop felled from its cloud
this separation makes me less than I was.
I travel the world
the ground the sea the air
trying to find my love again.
Nowhere does he condensate.
Will we ever again join to travel the heavens?
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