when a boy shows you his hands
bare except for the dust
he’s begging you to look past
take them in yours.
squeeze them once.
twice.
say without speaking
that you understand that the valleys
in his palms were meant to cradle
shooting star wishes
that he’s allowed to still hope for.
when a boy shows you his eyes
of milk and crimson and melanin
a bloodshot vein for every night he can’t sleep
let him shut his eyelids.
say without speaking
that you understand that the black hole pinpricks
of his irises hold more than the universe
should allow.
when a boy shows you his soul
shivering but still working toward friction
iced over but still working toward melting
let him come to rest next to yours.
say without speaking
that you understand that he is lonely
and that his silence speaks volumes
and that you kept his treasure close
because you love him.
when a boy shows you his hands
show him your hands.
when a boy shows you his eyes
show him your eyes.
when a boy shows you his soul
show him that
this is a comfortable place to rest it.
when a boy shows you the hardness that shaped him
show him the softness
that you have in store.

I may
be soft
but at least
I’m not
afraid
of my own
skin.

we caught eyes
in this convenience store
but
not because i fancied you.
i was piercing you
with my gaze
lips pursed, ready to spew
all of the hatred that swelled within me.
you were air and I was a balloon
but
you didn't expect something so hard
from someone so "soft"
because since i was a child
i was taught to speak only when spoken to
to do what men expect you to do
to find comfort in getting someone to fall in love with you
but i will not settle with
being defined by someone else,
not even you.
ive spent far too long holding my tongue
because that's what they expect women to do
they expect you to stay silent while they undress you
not just with their bodies
but with their words, falling like dominoes, spreading until the last one falls
but when will the last one fall?
when will I feel comfortable walking home by myself?
when will my clothes no longer be a form of consent?
when will the lines be paralleled?
when will birth no longer be punishment?
and when that day comes
when a boy tells my daughter what she should and shouldn't do,
his words like howling winds, destroying everything in their path,
she will have been made of stone.
and when he compares her to other girls, she will know wholeheartedly that she is a beautious being
and not because someone told her so.

so, here we are in this convenience store.
and i no longer hold my tongue.

on carried,
leave-dressed streets,
my burning,
searching hands,
find chorus
through harsh breaths
spoken bleak,
from stale storms.

my feet danced
over gone autumn days,
eyes shut, calm,
to hear fallen leaves play,
but dead now,
are the cold naked trees,
kissed with frost,
draped with icy shimmer.

delightful,
my heart is
to hear song,
that only
winter plays.

i dreamt of you
standing on top of a building
so far up, staring down at me

i dreamt of you
standing on top of a building
so far up, a hero in the sky

i dreamt of you
standing on top of a building
and i wonder if this means
that no matter how many
crimes you commit
somewhere deep inside
you are still my savior
standing so tall, so far
always untouchable
i wonder if this means
that in my heart
you still hold a position
stories higher than anyone else
i keep looking for a savior
but that place remains unreplaced
because the safety after the fear
that you gave me is irreplaceable
and i wonder if that means
no matter how far i run
i'll still search for you
in my skies and sun

i dreamt of you
laying on top of my body
your skin buzzing with electricity

i dreamt of you
laying on top of my body
your touch caressing my skin

i dreamt of you
laying on top of my body
and i wonder if that means
no matter how many times
i try to escape
your weight is still somewhere
on my chest
holding me down like a brand
claiming me as yours
your skin is heavy
with hunger and mine
craves you in ways i never
craved anyone else
and after all these months
i wonder if this means
you are still somewhere
on my body
in my body
i wonder if you still
live somewhere in my heart
and under my layers
and i wonder
if this means no matter how many
times i try to wash you away
you are still
always there.

naked,

underneath snow that falls,

like a dead waltzer,

like you and your shaking self.



naked ,

where snow melts around bones that break,

knees that shake.

and a voice that refuses to speak.



naked,

laid out to rest,

cede to the crackling frost;

frost like a galaxy,

the same galaxy, crafted and stitched into your ice-born skin,

into your glacier eyes.



naked,

starved,

a suicidal dreamer,

trying to touch the stars,

the begging, arctic moon -

trying to touch anything

but her anorexic, marbled form.