here i am watching myself fall
and here i am wondering why
here i am perplexed by freckles
and clementines
and friendship bracelets
and hang nails.
here i am watching rain.
letting it kiss my fingertips.
here i am wishing you were here.
wishing something changed.
here.

i was born there in that little house.
the one perched on top of muddy ditches and willow branches.
with broken boards piled where i crawled like a beetle.
dipping my hand in that bird bath, porcelain and cold,
i touched the world.
i touched the chill.
and water droplets stained my tattered dress
and i watched them disappear from me.
it was cold there.
cold with water on my hand
and the wind in my ears
and the ghost from under the deck
and the remainder of yesterday.

if i have a little girl, i want her to know that she has a little life.
she has time but not enough
i'll tell her to run her ***** paws on every wall
and yell at the top of her lungs,
so the world hears her voice.

"and little girl" i will tell her "you're beautiful."
you're beautiful like sun hitting broken glass
beautiful like clean blue paint
beautiful like your father
with butterfly eyes
and rosey lips.

Curse words.
You screamed curse words on my eighth birthday
and there was a mess in the backyard
with bubble sap
and candy wishes.
Tiny sobs.
I watched you leave,
beautiful footsteps
with your cocktail shoes and leather pants.
You're crazy, fine friend.
Sing me your story
and kiss me in public.
Hope.
I was hopeful.
You can pay for groceries
with your words.
Watch them shout.
Scream.
You're acid
and I'm poison.
We hit knuckles and crack flesh
like a matchbox.
You're funny.

"If I was drizzle, then she was a hurricane."
A hurricane that swept you off your feet and pumbled you to the ground,
knocked your knees in and lost the little game we used to play.
We used to play.
Play rhyming games with our tongues tied in alliteration and metaphors.
Back and forth and tossing and turning
Touching and biting and hitting and yelling
Kissing and healing and wishing.
I don't remember that game

he told me he loved me and i thought that was funny.
me? silly me with my crunched hair and wandering eyes.
me? short tempered and emotional me.
me? elaborate and confused. lifeless.
he took my hand and kissed its palm.
he told me i was beautiful.
he told me i was strong.
he didn't see my scars.
he didn't see me hide my face in his fingers.
i wanted him to mess up.
i wanted him to make me mad.
but he was perfection.
he was there with love.
and i was here with tears in my eyes and no hope.
and he stayed.
and i will never know why.