Why am I still ******* to you?
I hate that you're beautiful.
that I'm too weak to delete this picture.
That the most intimate thing left of you
is your body.
After four years of living out every fantasy.
A home,
baby,
making dinner,
fighting,
making up,
waking up next to you.
All i'm left with
is this carnal desire to possess you again
like you used to belong to me.
And isn't that the worst thing.
Isn't that the whole reason I left in the first place.
Because we both knew that nobody belongs to anyone.
Yet after all my grieving
All my lovers between now and then.
This is the memory I cherrish most.
This last chance to steal you.
When we were already breaking We thought it might save us.
How foolish we were.
See in the picture you can tell we were breaking.
Your eyes begging to forget.
Just like I beg to forget you.

The first time I saw you walk into a room
I deleted all the naked photographs of my ex lover in that instant.
Just in case you checked.
Just in case I flirted with you.

No girl has earned that same memory.

It belongs to you.
See, memories you can claim.
But not people.

The time you refused to accept
blankets between us and the cold ground
of our tent would keep us warmer
than piling them all on top of us.
That we can keep.
That mistake belongs to us.

The night we took this photograph.
The curvature of your hips.
Your arms hung dead like the maronette strings snapped that day.

That's a memory That i've captured.
See, even though you're gone and I don't have you.
I have this picture.

Why is it that i can go every day of my life loving people for who they are.
Seeing their dreams and past lives.

But with you
Blood.
I see this carnal need to devour you
like some delicacy.
Some favorite dish.

I hate that you're still beautiful.
I hate that you turn me into this monster.

One who sees girl as flesh not human.
Bones as shield not structure.

And it's only you.
This one thing i hate.
Who I need to ****.
Who I need to possess again.

I'm so glad I left you.
Glad I killed the monster.
But I can't delete this picture.

Every lonely night That I would cry alone and miss you, I don't.
I crave you instead.
Claw into your flesh
pull out a still regretably beating heart.

I feed it to this beast.
That demands you dehumanized.
pray I never see you in real life again.
fear that may be the last day I'm human.

Two rivers flow from my heart:

One famous to the people—
Revered, acknowledged,
Relied upon to renew life
In those strong, able mothers,
Whose water is playful and tame;

The other only known to the
Beasts of the forest—the exiles,
The infidels, the disillusioned
Sinners since birth, and the
Secret prophets who understand
Love and continue to preach it
Across treetops, under skies,
Through minds and closet doors
And kitchen knives and civil[ian] wars.

Bless their souls, those words of peace
Shine brighter than the sun
(Rumored to rise over everyone).
My rivers breathe life within me until
The source depletes, and my heart is still.

i could see it pretty easily
the two of us watching indie movies, cuddled under a blanket
going to concerts and not getting lost in the crowd
because we stand out to each other
eating an entire box of pizza- just the two of us

i don't know how others would see us
whether we would be the couple people notice in the hallway
if we would only tell a couple people
what we meant to each other

it's weird
i want to be around you
but i don't know in what context just yet

Only the open sky
Could take my wings
Mold them into essences of purity

I was forged within
Rapid rivers of forsaken modesty
Left alone and sore below
Because my insecurities undressed me
And bedded me savagely
Before the watchful eye of the moon
The minds glowing aphrodisiac

As feathered hate falls from blackened flight
A finger is raised in denial of sunlight
A symbol of woebegone sensuality

I'm a lot gayer than originally planned.
*******. Gay.
But I'm worried about the concept;
not sure if it's right to use the word
“gay”
when (I'm sorry I said it)
I'm really bisexual,
just particularly into women right now.
Like,
is that bad representation
of my sexuality?
Only encouraging
bi-erasure?
It just doesn't have the same
“umph”
to say
I'm feeling particularly
bisexual today.
But I've been telling myself
over and over
that it's okay,
no matter what
I'm feeling today.
I don't
need
your
box

anymore.

Do you ever wonder what it's like to love yourself?
To be completely at peace with who you are inside and out?

My mother once told me
"How will you know you won't like it if you don't try it?"
And though I didn't like the green beans
I decided to try her on
It began with sidelong smiles
A hug held long
Then a kiss sprouting
From her rosebud lips
Burning against mine
Funny how
She didn't kiss me like a man
Where I knew brittle
She showed me tender
Where I knew vigor
She showed me patience
I fell in love with a woman
So quick and so surreal
And though it's what no mother hopes for
I know now not to discriminate by a gender