i want
lavender beaches
strawberry bubblegum
willow-wood bed frames..
i want
sweet summertime
on crumbling tectonic plates
with my burlap baby..
i want
grapefruit pompoms
painted on my cheeks
telling stories in the fluorescence..
i want
everything
everysinglething
everylittlefraction

and that still won’t be enough.

i’m not fragile
i won’t break easily

                                                but your touch
                               isn’t exactly weak either.

i’ve got racing stripes
              war paint
              scars
                       painted on my body.

they don’t wipe away
they don’t bleach out
they don’t spell out my
                                      name.
                                      poetry begs to be written on them..
                             music begs to make them beautiful..

but all i want to do is to bury them. bury them further and further under my skin until an x-ray machine couldn’t even detect them. i don’t want to see them ever again. just let me get rid of these scars.

you always knew
that i was scared of small spaces.
you act like you don’t remember
but you do
i know you remember.
you spit out the word
         “ claustrophobic ”
like it’s the bitter end of cranberry juice
leaving it stained on the bathroom tile.
now all i can see
in this dark house
is everything you said i shouldn’t be afraid of.
— like small spaces, like you —

can i forgive you ?
          no
should i forgive you ?
          maybe
am i still afraid of you ?
          always