we begin our reunion
with soft, sultry, glowing eyes.
then my fingers ignite his skin
until hungry, crackling fire
consumes our passionate souls.

closing my eyes as the sunlight kissed the window
a blooming rose lightly caressing my face,
confessing his deep, passionate love,
wrapping his leaves around me,
protecting me with his mild, earthy scent,
loving me with softness and strength.

The rose caressed my fingers.
"he loves me, he loves me not."
My eyes could only see red.
"he loves me, he loves me not."
Ready to peel the sweet bud -
"he loves me, he loves me not."

His gentle fingers grazed mine.
"I love you, I love you so."
His eyes were milk chocolates.
"I love you, I love you so."
The petals clung to the rose.
"I love you, I love you so."

my fingers fell into cinnamon buns.
the sticky, sweet icing coated my nails.
the residue - stubborn and unyielding -
but enticing to lick, making me sick.

then my lips flirted with sultry wine
that pulled me into its safe embrace,
letting me breathe a sigh of relief
as I stared into space, enamored.

I'm six feet underground, disoriented.
did I dig the grave, or was I meant for it?
the soil clumps together, stronger than ever
as it presses my chest, never to sever.
as I claw my way up, branches stab like pins.
before long, the deep cuts sear my exposed skin.

my eyes tire, and I rest.
but my rest fails the test.

the soil weighs me down further,
bringing me where demons murmur.
and that is where I now stand,
trapped in a layer of land.
and since making a move burns,
staying gives me what I deserve.

today, you may be a closed tulip. but as the minutes roll by, you will slowly blossom. the wind will kiss your petals, and the rain will startle you. the sun will warm you up, and the bees will seek you as a resting place. through it all, you will stretch your leaves toward the sky, and your seeds will sprout. you will brighten days, and you will continue the circle of life.

the bittersweet word left my lips
but it kept the other words at bay -
the ones I could never, ever say.
I dragged those deeply rooted words,
pulling them until they wouldn't budge.
I wrapped them in my voice and let them go
until thorny feelings seized my legs
and dug into my soft, tender flesh.
my fingers bled as I separated the thorns.
they shrank, withering into the soil.
and once they did, I whispered, "goodbye"
for the second time, and I was finally free.

every time I close my eyes,
my life beats behind my eyelids
like the wings of a butterfly
as questions form the rhythm
of a song that constantly plays.

they quietly loomed over you,
arms interlocked so you never moved.
solemn faces, small, narrowed eyes.
you prepared to meet your demise.

but one day, their hands slightly shook.
that quick movement was all it took.
you pushed past those cold, binding arms,
embraced confidence, far from harm.

warm, bright words don't reside in your heart.
an ice wall blocks the way as they depart.
a shy, humble smile, "oh, it's no big deal,"
and those words are suddenly forced to kneel.
the icicles ***** your weary shoulders,
forming gashes, leaving you so much colder.

too much warmth? you burst into flames.
too little? you're frozen and maimed.
your hands, scarred and worn,
rub in vain, ready to mourn
as you look over the wall
to stare at the glow that enthralls.

our laughs tumbled around us
as our eyes crinkled in mirth.
and I froze the moment,
crystallizing it in my memory
as the words "god, I love you"
freely fell from my lips.
he caught the soft words
with his own: "I love you,"
and our lips danced in harmony.

my first step cracked the ground like phyllo pastry / alarms pierced through dense air that struggled to reach my lungs / massive acrid pills fell from the darkening sky / inching closer to me with every second / as if the world was demanding for me to swallow them / my body absorbed lightning faster than it could ever charge through the sky / my heart seized with every glance / so I kept my eyes downcast / settling on a strong smooth obsidian / that rested below the ground / tremors overtook my hands / and I leaped onto the stone.

they have my heart in a chokehold.
their rough hands mold it into shape
while I am in a deep, deep slumber.

my eyes are greeted by the sun.
the white-hot pain in my chest
knocks the wind out of me.

when silence is thick, I sculpt my heart
back into its lovely, imperfect shape,
and I let it lead the way forward.

the ticking of a well-known clock is always in the background
as we draw breath from a planet designed to accommodate us.

sometimes, it lurks in the shadows
as we fill our hearts with love.
the present takes us by the hand,
so we stay with it joyfully.

other times, it bounces off the cold, white walls
until we cannot remember a day without it.
hope has flown away, so we wander through the past,
trying to find a way to put the noise to bed.

we find a moment that is soft to the touch -  
where the only sound we can hear is laughter.
we hold it to our chests to stay warm
as we close our eyes in surrender.

the ticking finally stops.

brow creases lightly
piano sings a soothing song -
fingers in their turf.

sticks rub together in her brain,
forming bright, painful sparks
that unite to become flames -
vibrant, scorching, dark -
settling into every crevice
until the smoke washes over -
opaque, thick, endless -
and ashes close in on her.

two adjacent piano keys
yelled over each other
for a moving spotlight,
a crinkle of the eyes,
and a sweet, tender smile.
instead, their noise
made ears beg for peace
until eyes glanced away,
and they were left alone
with their discordant sounds.

is something I wish someone would have said when I was falling through the depths of hell and my spirit was being burned over and over again and my voice was eroding while they cast my pain aside and took my power away so they could feel comfortable. they forced me to stuff the feelings deep within my heart and look perfect for the pictures so they could feel comfortable. they kept pushing me more and more, even though every cell in my body was joining forces to keep me from falling apart, so they could be comfortable. my body and mind were wrung out and tattered, and I thought the only way out was to do it myself. i would have given anything for them to say "I'm worried about her" and actually DO something about it. but they wouldn't have been comfortable with that, would they?

when her heart flutters faster
than the wings of a hummingbird,
his steady heartbeat anchors her
to the solid ground underneath their feet.

she wanted to paint over
the marks on her face
to create a blank canvas
so their eyes would not
drill holes into her pores.
but before she could paint,
two arms wrapped around her,
slowly turning her around.
her eyes were downcast
as he kissed her every mark.
"I love your constellations.
Please don't hide them,"
he gently whispered.
she pulled him closer,
leaning back onto the counter.
the brush fell to the ground
as they savored their sweet love.

at the end of the afterlife,
when the dust finally settles,
she climbs into a warm bed
made of soft, wispy clouds,
listening to lilting melodies,
from her childhood memories,
falling into a peaceful slumber.

before, questions lingered in the air.
weary eyed nights were spent
stuffing yourself into a small box
for someone who only took you
on long, winding, painful paths
where the ends were shrouded
by looming trees and bushes.

now, the air is blissfully clear.
someone smiles when you stretch.
they walk right alongside you.
there may be darkness along the way,
but they will hold your hand through it.
the end of this path is straight ahead -
bright, expansive, and fruitful.

my hands brush over the wall,
guiding me through the room
as my eyes are blindfolded
by a thick, grey, opaque fog.

my hands stumble over every surface
until they glide over a smooth lamp.
the blindfold is taken off my eyes.
and I see my reflection staring at me.

I blink at the handheld mirror, bewildered
as my eyes pursue the direction of the light.
I look into the mirror, yelling "eureka!"
because my heart is glowing, even in the night.

even as the chill of past souls
reverberates through my bones,
warning me to watch my back,
I want to join hands with a soul
and stare into its windows,
hear its ring of solid truth,
and feel its warmth on my skin.

at first, the thunder cracks my eardrum.
the rain punches the soft ground after
being held back by the clouds for so long,
and I cannot see past the blanket of darkness.
as the storm rages on, the thunder roars,
but my body knows best like it always does.
my hands carefully craft a cup of strong tea,
and my body rests in front of the fireplace,
and the obnoxious thunder lowers its voice,
and the violent rain's touch becomes softer,
and I finally see the light peeking through.

than sweet moments suspended in time
like thick, dark, smooth molasses
resisting the strong pull of gravity
as it flows from a shiny silver spoon.

for a split second,
the TV screen turned red,
followed by a shrill beep.
it was a small glitch,
too small to be noticeable,
so the television stayed.

the longer she watched it,
the more often it turned red,
the longer the high-pitched beep.
but she could never predict
when the glitch would happen,
and she waited for it to be normal.

eventually, she adjusted
to a perpetually red screen
and an irritating, shrill hum
until her friend came in,
asking why the screen was red
and where the noise was coming from.

she brushed it off,
claiming it was a glitch.
the screen stayed that way,
and the hum persisted.
her eyes slowly became weary,
and her ears started ringing.

her friend took her away.
her eyes and ears got a break,
and she saw a different screen,
one of many colors, showing life
in its beautiful and tragic moments.
she heard vivid, rich, musical voices.

she went back to her television,
exhausted, trying in vain to fix it,
but it would not change,
no matter how hard she tried.
questions bloomed in her mind
until it suddenly dawned on her.

this was never a glitch.
it was a complete malfunction.
her heart and head were pounding
as she held an antenna to her chest.
it weighed her arms down,
but she threw it across the room.

it crashed into the television,
and the screen went black.
the hum stopped, and all was quiet
except for her loud breathing.
she wept as relief washed over her
and she lay down, content at last.

the flowers spread their limbs
basking in the sunlit glow
as the refreshing morning dew
caresses their curved leaves.
their vivid petals flirt
with the colorful sunbirds,
pulling them closer and closer
to the sweet, sticky pollen,
which rains all over the soil
as more flowers begin to wake up.

the glass broke through my skin,
piercing my heart over and over.
the agony brought me to my knees
as I carefully removed the shards.
the wounds sting, craving relief,
from a soothing, cool, light balm.
I slowly apply it, closing my eyes
as it enters the wounds on my heart,
bringing me comfort as I start to heal.

the lion tiptoes in circles around her.
her mind spins in opposite circles
while the voice in her head yells "run."
but her limbs freeze and lock into place.
she hides her breath deep in her lungs,
staring straight into the lion's eyes
hoping it won't feel the fear in the air.
each second crashes onto her shoulders,
until the lion slowly saunters away,
becoming a small shape in the distance.

ink flows out of my brain
through my blood vessels
to my soft fingertips.
my hands curl into fists
as I crumple a sheet of paper.
a corner lightly cuts my finger,
and the ink flows onto the page.

she walks along the trunk of the woods,
pausing when she sees branch-like paths
nonchalantly lying down in front of her.
each path sings its own song for her,
but the songs clash against each other.
she steps back and covers her ears,
then starts singing her own song.
she looks away from the other branches,
letting her voice guide the way
as she strolls along her own path.