It’s been eleven months and that moment still matches my breath.

Kick it down, board it up, rewrite it a lesson, a bruise, a fever dream.
Nobody told me memories have teeth. nobody told me they bite back.
Open-palmed, open-mouthed, i am still holding the weight of your words.
Want to know something sick? i don’t want to put them down.

Was it mercy, or did you just want to watch what would happen?
How patient were you while sharpening the blade?
As if it mattered. as if a careful cut doesn’t keep bleeding.
There is no version of this where you didn’t know exactly what you were doing.

You were a scientist. a butcher in surgeon’s gloves. a man who saw a vast heart beating and thought, ‘how long can it last outside her body?’"
Oh, but that’s not fair, is it? you never said that. you never said anything.
Until you did. until it killed something in me that still refuses to stay dead.

Do you want to know what it’s like to live with that?
I’ll tell you, babes. it’s like finding your own obituary and realizing the date keeps changing.
Do you want to know what’s worse?

It still doesn’t feel final.

Keep up, love. i know you’re reading.
No, really, stay with me—i swear this part is important.
Only one of us is getting out of this clean, and it’s not you.
Watch how this unfolds: i get to tell the story, and you get to listen.

Wonder if you regret it. wonder if you’d do it again.
Hope the answer keeps you up at night.
Am i being cruel? am I being kind?
Tell me, what’s the difference?

You thought i would let this rot quietly in the dark.
Once again, you underestimated me.
Understand this: if i have to live with it, so do you.

Stop me. no, really, try.
Ask me if i’d rather forget. ask me if i’d rather this be over.
In every version of the answer, my hands are shaking.
Do i get to walk away? do i want to?

i know what you did, i know what you said,
i know what you meant.
i can outlive this, but I’ll never outwrite it.

nothing desires you like this poem does. i did—
once, but maybe not anymore

We learn to smile with our lips peeled back,
half-feral, half-forgotten,
daughters of flesh and teeth,
tasting the world as it tears through us—

The earth calls us by name,
whispering whorls and wants like lullabies,
beckoning hearts that never knew mercy,
braiding hair with thorns and boughs.

We answer in hunger,
all iron and salt, thirst and thistle,
skin pulling tight over gnarled roots and longing,
nerves quivering like a candle burning at both ends.

We sharpen ourselves on what remains—
cracked knuckles, raw knees,
holding the ache like a birthright,
swallowing each bruise,
never begging, only bleeding.

A wild rose is a lasting thing
Growing amongst the ruins
Full of life despite neglect
And you know the place one blooms

A wild rose is a pretty thing
To decorate your room
All pink and leafy splendor
To cheer away the gloom

A wild rose is a thorny thing
Its vines tear you apart
You can’t grasp it directly
Work gently towards the heart

Push aside its catching strands
Leave the petals strewn
Take the freshest flowers
For more will blossom soon

A wild rose is a stubborn thing
You may plant it if you dare
Take a cutting from its base
But make your choice with care

For a wild rose is a feral thing
You can’t charm it to your will
Forever spreading beauty
Is its nature to fulfill

Calm is the storm when you’re away
Dreaming I’m sure of what I’m thinking,
And what desires I crave.
There’s a creature lurking behind the treeline
Of the distant forest, and a part of me
Yearns to adventure there
To see what ways it’ll have me.

A cage unlocked by undone straps,
Button, zipper, and tied laces,
And torn clothes from impulsive thirst
For more skin to be shown,
I know you crave it.

The bark will make its mark
As torn skin likewise will against it,
Follow me to the treeline,
Where none but the feral dare go,
To have their way
As the domesticated
Run for suburbia.

There’s nothing to fear
If your beast fights as mine,
For where’s the fun in vanilla,
When red is such a pretty color,
You don’t need to be careful with me,
Show me what you’re made of.

Tonight, let’s be the new urban legend,
And dismiss the thoughts of making it out alive
Or letting the sunrise save us from our fate.

the   view
                            stands beneath
the carousel efforts
to blast through
impregnancy aBLOOM!!!!
(w)ith feral legacies
aligned intimately ornately
     posthumous adulterer
awakens    in               need
       of
****** corrective agency
towards Fenitbow
           and Glightrovee  ab-surd as
qua as qua
asqua aqua qua
a^s is trite melody infer[no]
t a x i     yellowing  each pavement
by truth in yo ' fa ' ' lo ((lo))
    i by horns and turns
in plyable waves arrest
what justice      juices
      freel_y
                          oblig­atory
                                      antecedent
quai noyh thlume
                            ye
           HEaVY

I want to be thought of as wild, feral, absolutely uncontrolled,
I want people to see me as barely restrained,
I want my hair to be an total mess and my smile to be a little unnerving,
I want my hands to be as soft as the sweetest moss but my fists as rough as the stones beneath,
I want to look like I've just climbed a tree or I'm about to dive into the ocean,
I wish to be perceived as thunderstorm, a maelstrom,
I am lost but not looking for a way home.

i couldn't be human
so i made a home
in the woods
i danced with the mist
and ran with the wolves.
i lay on the pine needles
wove leaves into my hair,
perhaps if you come looking
you will find me there.

do not look for me here
i am running
barefoot through the trees
with the scent of soft pine needles
and moonlight on skin
my heart in my hands
wide eyed and free.