You bear a mask of pain,
placed by a smiling face,

have given your arm to he
who proposed no harm,

and signed your back
with the name of that being,

who,

now seeing through your new
eyes,

finally realize,
bears that dagger not for protection,
but for *******
of your soul,

perpetration of it's defenestration,
you are nothing but his,
but is, but its,
but id,
a bottle of wildfire without it's cap,
that he puts his lips to and slams back,

There is no saving, there is no turning back,
you are his signature,
you are his cat.

I wasn’t holy,
but I wore rings like relics,
my hands glowing with faint outlines
as if someone bit away the gold.

I smoked cloves behind the theater
like I was auditioning for my own myth,
my knees pressed into asphalt prayers,
asking God for a role bigger than
girl storing apocalypse in composition notebooks.

Every boy was a borrowed psalm,
every kiss a hymn half-remembered.
I prayed by spilling myself on sidewalks,
by getting too loud in stairwells,
by falling down and calling it confession.

When they said, be careful,
I heard, be catastrophic.
When they said, be real,
I heard, be ruinous.
When they said, play nice,
I heard, play God.
When they said, repent,
I heard, revolt.

So I tried.
And every bruise became scripture
when the spotlight hit wrong.
And every scar became testimony
when no one believed me.
And every silence turned gospel
because scripture doesn’t stay quiet either.

They said I drowned,
but the truth is softer:
I laid myself down like an offering.

I spit river into their open mouths.
I bit the lilies in half.

Silk turned cathedral.
I let my dress balloon with river light.

The earth had nowhere else for me.

If you pressed your ear to the surface,
you would have heard me humming.
They didn’t write that part.

When they pulled me out,
I still had violets in my teeth.
I still had the nerve to look alive.

If ruin was the crown they gave me,
I wore it dripping.
I wore it bright.

You think you know the story:
girl, river, grief.

But the water was warm that day.
The sky was a soft ache.
I was tired of carrying everyone else’s ending.

So I wrote my own.

Not drowned.
Not tragic.
Not accepting their ending.

I do not fear the heavens
Catching me lacking—
There is nothing in the bag
To hide. I carry all of me.

There is however a record shoved
Between the bookends
Of birth and death.

Let that pain or joy speak
On my behalf.
I am too tired to fight.

Smoke me out if you want to.
There are plenty of other hills
That will welcome a sparrow
Within snug arms—
Bringing me weightless, ready
To share the sun.

Taste melancholy fever dreams.

Listen for the spoken word

That tore your youth.

How is the tea treating you?

let me row you out, darling girl
climb in, put your feet together
this is my father’s boat
and his father’s boat before him
these waves have rocked them
before cradling us, so do not worry
these waves will not bring us harm
tug on the ropes as i grab the oars
and sweep the gentle blue
and away we go
far away from the city
far away from our woes
past the past, before the daybreak
would you come away with me?

You wrote your name
in cursive
across the surface
of my still beating heart
Left me blinking.
Waiting to wake up.
Waiting for the real world to start.
So leave me here
under the sign that says
adopt a road
as I struggle to stand
under an increasingly heavy load.
I smell so strongly of gasoline
it itches inside my lungs.
You spend your sundays
on your knees
speaking in tongues.
Do you remember when
yesterday used to be full of forever?
Do you remember living
days and days of mild weather?
And if we struggle
can we still get better?
If she needs to let go
do you let her?
Then can we give each other
a little grace for the things
we didn't do?
Is there any room left
for hope inside of me for you?
And can we channel these feelings?
Like one would an angry ghost
or are we forever doomed to lose
what we need the most
I believe there are things
that are never found
and always sought
like a big word that
derails a train of thought
And in all these lies, maybe there's still a little truth to be told
god knows I'll love you forever
until the stars go cold.

within the silence of your mind
the wind breathes-
Butterflies dance-
Bees chaperone the mating of flowers.