I'm having one of those days
Where my thoughts go South
And breathing gets tough
And icicles stick to my
Vocal chords
And the snow is so thick
That my blood striped hand
In front of my face
Disappears.
And eventually
After a while
I need a map
To find my way back
North.
But I'm so far South
That my fingers are too frigid
To make a snowman.
And my mind's too numb
To think South anymore.

I paused
On the road to pick those wildflowers
Yeah I stopped
ill indignantly pluck
roaming buds for you
without warning

here
hold these

I paused then too
When I tried to kiss you
And that show was playing
Stars and septette timelines
im sorry you were saying some-thin
but look
shhhh
grab my hand

I paused
before grinned
that round-toothed smile
you so love
or at least write about

i paused to look at you
to smell you one more time
before opening the window
and then again
when the window didnt matter

when "full on" was a demand
when you asked me more questions
when we fought about our limits

ill pause
because i have to
bring you back to
we imagine
careen and just not crash

somersaults and strobe lights

were pausing
for a moment
to change each other
who COULD like this

i wont lie about it
im begging
on two knees

it started as a mean joke
i pray that it ends as no suicide letter
i mean
this poem will self destruct

pause at JUST the right second

I love the rain.
Nobody can tell you've been crying.

there once was a young girl with green eyes
who wore her soft blond hair
in braided pigtails

at the age of seven,
she watched her older sister
stand in front of the mirror before school
and pinch her stomach with a disgusted face
          neither of them ate breakfast that morning

at the age of nine,
she watched her older brother
make fun of a girl with glasses
for reading on the bus
          she went home and hid all her books in the attic

at the age of twelve,
she watched the older girls at school
with straight hair and short skirts
put makeup on in the bathroom
and discuss how boys would only like you
if you looked perfect, like them
          the next day she arrived with red lips, short shorts, and no braided pigtails

at the age of fourteen,
she watched her father hit her mother for the first time
her mother cried when she saw her standing in the doorway
and told her daddy didn't mean it
          the next year, she told herself that her boyfriend didn't mean it, either

at the age of sixteen,
she was paper thin and empty
with straight blond hair, red lips,
purple flesh, and lifeless green eyes
          while staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror,
          she thought to herself "at least i'm normal."