Three years now
I have started off
Pressed into your lips

Two years now
February has been my personal hell
And you held my hand

One summer now
We didn't make it all the way
And you kissed my hand goodbye

I don't know how many nights
I have cried to you
And you don't know
How many of those nights
I cried about you

The air feels dense
Heavy with my inability to
Hold onto my sense of self
I fight my anger in a
Futile attempt to free
Myself of violent stress
Ironic.

Sometimes I'll stand in front of that mirror for so long,
I'll forget why I came into the bathroom,
Because I can still see your fingerprints
And a faint outline of a kiss on that hollow spot above my collarbone,
The spot you would kiss romantically
And I would twitch and laugh, because it gave me shivers,
And you would do it again
Because we weren't ****
We were silly, and tickle fights were our thing
The best thing;
And those fingerprints
On my hips and my ribs from holding me close
But mostly in that spot on my back,
Just below my shoulder blade,
Where you would tap your fingers to say Hello,
Remind me you were there, and I was yours;
Those aren't fading very fast;
I was always jealous of your tattoos,
The real ones and the ones that I would trace
When there was no light for me to see
That beauty is truth and truth beauty
But I suppose you gave me tattoos in a way
Left your mark in a way that only I could see
But today,
Today I saw me
Just me,
Clear skinned and smiling.

Today, for the first time, I looked at my mother. Really looked at her. I've been watching her for years. I know her habits, the way her face slackens when she's mad. I watch the way she is in the world and I know who she is, what she feels like, how she smells; but until today, I couldn't have told you what she looks like. She is beautiful. Breathtaking. It's Christmas and the house is warm, glowing, smells like food. We had company and she was flitting about, kitchen to couch, apron wrapped around her fancy dress. No stockings or shoes. She was waving her arms, twiddling her fingers around her wineglass, rubbing her feet together, always in motion. Her face slid so easily into a smile, creases outlining her happiness. Strong features: a big nose, defined chin, high cheekbones, easily visible because of her short hair. My mother is not a small woman, nor is she big, but she stands tall with broad shoulders, mine now the same, and her presence is colossal. I could see the 20 some year old that my father fell madly in love with. Gorgeous. Strong. But at the same time, so soft. Every part of her nurtures. I sat in awe, stunned that I had not noticed that she was once so much more than Mom. Still is.

A perfect afternoon
spent on the beach
and within each other's reach

A perfect afternoon
climbing trees
and touching knees

A perfect afternoon
making wishes
and stealing kisses

A perfect afternoon
that ended all too soon

My Sweet Spaceman
where are you now?
Trying to see between
those little glows
that speckle the sky;
similar to those
no longer in your eyes?
I just want to see
the world in which you're lost,
so take me please,
I'll pay the cost;
I'm sure it's less
than the price I pay
for the half-assed smile
you gave today;
I miss you babe,
it's been too long,
so let me save you
from this wrong,
because believe me when I say
I'm alone in this crowded room
while you run around the moon.

*And you said you never wanted to be an astronaut

There are some days
when you can see the Moon
in broad daylight
It's a ghost of it's usual self,
peeking out from some invisible pocket of baby blue velvet
I don't know why it does this
and I'm sure there is a scientific answer to explain
but I don't want to know that
I would rather go about thinking
that maybe the moon gets lonely and comes out to visit with the Sun
Their shifts are always clashing
and it's pretty hard to keep a relationship when you're working nights and they work days
The Sun and the Moon work to balance the Earth
Pretty demanding work
I bet they miss each other
I find that you can only see the Moon
on really beautiful days
Maybe it's because that rare visit
is making the Sun very happy
Or maybe it's chance

Inspiration blossomed
Between the layers of experiences
Cataloged in the folds of her mind
It extended down
Rooting itself behind her deep eyes
And brightening them until they outshone
Any star that graced the evening sky
Pigment leeched into her cheeks
And pulled them back revealing a brilliant smile
As the tendrils of thought unfurled into her body
Her shoulders slumped
Her arms relaxed
And she wrapped her infected fingers around the paintbrush
Which began to dance
And the only sound heard
Was the bristled feet scuffing the white canvas floor
Leaving tracks of royal blue, rich purple and green
After hours of their tireless dance
She released the brush and stepped back
Her imagination had splattered her clothing and hands
And slowly she allowed her eyes to roam
The workings of her mind

It does not take a good photograph

i would never frame such a thing

because it's beauty is not in it's looks

it does not caress your eyes

or invoke sweet words

the beauty is in the feeling

that takes your breath away

sneaks up and suffocates your heart

breaks you and rebuilds you

better

So you see
time has played a trick on me
and I am made the fool
That dances just as strings would command
oblivious to the big grand plan
that constructs my destiny
It's gone so fast
moments dashed past
and I'm alone in dust
That stains my clothes
smells of woes
and leaves me rather lost
In the big blue world
strange secrets unfurled
and I am none the wiser
Of all the things yet to come
and all fun
I've yet to enjoy
But the hardest bit is
I don't know what I think of this
And the thing that gets me
the thing I can not see
is right there, in front of me

silly girl,
*open your eyes

I never used to like definitely maybes
but I'm about to walk off the edge of my Earth
slowly, two steps forward, one step back
and all I can think of is indefinite outcomes
he is the only instance where YES
tumbles out of my mouth
tripping over my teeth
and falling on his tongue
but even then
my map is creased in all the wrong places
and never folds back to a functioning square
we link fingers and run with steps lacking synchronicity
I sometimes jump when he lands
he screams when I want to whisper
and I often want to go left at his right
and I will, one day soon
when I get the courage to unfold his kind of clammy hands
from my shaky fist

but I'm scared
of having cold fingers.

I hear you've taken up cigarettes
For real this time
Not just for something to do
Or as something to hide from me and my ***** looks
Because we all know that's fun, fooling me,
More of a rush than the smoke itself;
No, I bet it's because
When all else fails,
When you're becoming the flake that you love to hate
When life is nothing like the movies
And you're not living unless you're high
You might as well look the part
Burnouts are still cool,

*Mind if I *** a smoke?

This feeling flows
like an unobstructed stream
starting deep in my heart
and bubbling out
to my extremities
happiness
in it's purest form
saturates our words and laughter
and soon the room is soaking wet
as we dance and sing
taking hold of our youth
and our freedom
we are
loud
rowdy
drunk on
our love
and wine
we are
infinite
and in these moments
I am
complete
content
*alive

We talked
he and i about
all the reasons why you and i can't
talk anymore

we talked for a long time

I don't remember the last time we,
you and i, really
talked about things that weren't
relevant or recent

it's been a long time

We've been talking with our lips but
hardly ever in the way that
accomplishes things
or reveals things i didn't already know
about you or the things that matter to you

this silence is kind of deafening and my lips are feeling lost
i tried to talk the other day to you about me and us and our things
but i couldn't find the words
and so
the talking didn't last
and the space between my words got very large and heavy
and the tears between my eyelids got very large and heavy
and maybe even slipped out
once or twice

But we talked
he and i about
all the reasons why you and i can't
talk anymore

And I had lot's to say

I like
to stand at the base of mountains
and wonder why I am here,
They are wonders of the earth
and blessings to my soul,
I like
to climb atop those mountains,
And although I have
never been religious
when I stand on top
of my small world
my heart is filled
with some unworldly power,
And if that is what He feels like,
Then I believe.

Too fast
It's going too fast
and it's not the same as it used to be
when you were young
speed was fun
and fast could always be faster
but the days are slipping
from the life you're gripping
and soon
you'll hit a corner
slow down for the turn
so your guts won't churn
lose your race mentality
and learn to love reality
and please
just drive safe

i used to love the ocean
i used to be very good at swimming

the day i learned how to drown
made me love the ocean a little bit less

now the salty water will creep in
even god can't change the tides

my lungs will fill with blue
like they always do

and i will lie awash in waves
thinking it is the sky

her hair was the dark sky
splashing over the edges of her pillow;
waves of black velvet ink,
spilled by reckless writers
while writing their love story
all over the cotton sheets of paper

her laugh was the moon;
shining a path through the hours of their shared whispers
and comforting him, the weary night traveler
who no longer felt lost

her eyes were the stars;
so bright and breathtaking,
behind them hid so much mystery,
he wondered how she could see

he soaked in every moment
and wished for an endless night

Smells like September
Sunny days with sad shadows
Clear, cold breezes invite a sweater
That does half the job
You would have done
At keeping me warm
Smells like stress
School
A fresh start
That feels a lot like last year
When he left me
Like you did
Alone
Deja Vu
Except chances are
I won't find another you
No one is coming around
To pick me up off the ground
And if they do?
I'll wave them away
Won't let them say
"I promise I won't do that"
Because
I'm getting tired
Of this
Cold pavement
And these reoccurring visions
I'm getting tired
Of getting my hopes up
And my heart open
Only to be left in the cold
I'm getting tired
Of September

I'd said I'd never seen it
you dropped your chin
"We're watching it"
We did
until our close proximity
was more than you could handle
and your breath found my hair
and your lips met my neck
and now I still can say,
I don't know how it ends.

Flustered in gumboots,
No way to compute
The full weight of the drops
That saturate her scalp
And seem to soak right through
To her clouded brain,
Where thunder roars
And lightning scours
Until she smells burning flesh;
While she spins, confused
The sky seems quite amused
For there is nothing
But sunshine and blue.

Alone upon the precipice
you expand your feathered wings
You're right and ready
strong and steady
So jump, let's hear you sing
But you stop short
and tumble back
bruising your behind
It is those ropes
your dashed dreams and hopes
the confines of your mind
So, flightless bird
you may have heard
that the only way to see
Is to open your eyes
look to the sky
and let yourself free

I'm hopeless
-ly
hopeful
that this
will
last
longer
than
my
last
forever

because
infinity
has never seemed
so enjoyable
and
I
have
never known
the unknown
to be
a
desirable
destination

I'm hopeless
-ly
hopeful
that someone
will
hold
my
hand
because
I
can't see
with all these
stars
in
my
eyes

And blind has never been better

Do you suppose
From where you sit
That you can see the stars?
Way up there
Up in the black
Above the smog from cars

Do you suppose
From where you sit
That you can see the truth?
Way out there
Out passed what's known
And muddled by your youth

Do you suppose
From where you sit
That you can really see?
See the world?
See yourself?
Or even see me?

"I like you this much"
he says
pale arms stretched to their limit,
fingers extended, gently tickling the air;
his face is hardly more than his smile,
which he hates
but when he smiles
I see the sun;
it warms me
in the cheesiest but most sincere way,
I can't get enough;
he is the sun
and I can't escape his pull,
red hair and explosive personality,
he is the sun;
a week without him is winter,
a day in his arms risks a burn.

"I like you this much"
he says
and this time
I don't look for shade

My lungs must stretch
to keep up with this laughter
it's endless and my hair flies away
I know I've got little smudges of mascara
circling my wide eyes because I've been too busy watching you
and laughing and breathing
forgetting that I'm afraid of you
breaking my heart I don't think I am
last time I need to stop comparing
but last time I was afraid
because everything was so perfect and I don't
believe in perfection I didn't
I don't want to fear the way
you look at me and hold me tightly
I don't want to disagree with all your lovely compliments
because I'm tired of pretending I don't deserve them
I do
I want to have all those butterflies the ones I get when
I see you or talk to you or think
of you and I want those moments
when we're walking and laughing too hard at a bad joke so we pause
and look at each other stare hard at each other
into each other and laugh harder
I want those to last
for not forever but long enough to enjoy them
really enjoy them
maybe I do want you to break my heart
because that would mean I fell for you
loved you and
there's nothing I'd
rather do
more.

Would you believe me if I told you
the reason I have to say goodbye,
is because I love you
too much?
I wake up every morning,
the same way I fell asleep:
tangled in sheets and you.
You are the start and end of all my stories.
I smell you on my skin.
Hear your laugh when I read something funny.
You are embedded in all my senses.
Until yesterday
driving down the highway alone,
mountains on all sides
piercing the blue sky,
I did not know what the world was
without you.
Would you believe me if I told you
I've got no room in my heart
for me, because I'm too full
of you?

You have managed to seep so deeply
into my skin,
my heart,
my mind,
that every time I wish to find my words;
wish to write something meaningful,
something beautiful
you are all I see

and so the words become a feeble attempt at your description
as my heart so desperately tries to put adjectives to feelings
and I end up sounding
like some love-struck, sappy, amateur poet
that knows nothing but you
which isn't true

I know lots

Too many nights
were never enough
With only the stars
to call my bluff;
Making constellations
from the freckles on my face,
Waiting for the mirror
to deem me a disgrace;
Summer nights
warm and full,
Spent wishing,
waiting for the pull
From you
that never came
I learned the rules
to your stupid game;
The one that you weren't playing.

I'm used to playing alone.

Sharp stubble that rubs my lips
Your hands gently resting on my small and bony hips
There's very little spaces
Between our stomachs and faces
And I must stretch to my toes
To level with your nose
I feel the seconds slipping
And already I'm missing
The warmth of you there
The tickle of your hair
And the high that you give me

I'm an addict

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

It's the times when nothing goes
right
And so we cry
together
We let it happen and wash it away with
laughter

It's the times when the stars come
out
So we must follow
suit
And traipse about on our fruitless
missions

It's the times when we're all a little
silly
or a lot
And we're all content to just
be

It's times like these when I discover feeling
infinite

The air is smooth and warm,
the breeze wraps around you
and seems to fill you with a rare kind of contentedness;
specks of infinity freckle the navy sky
and the streetlights glow against the buildings,
like something you've seen in paintings;
her hand is small and a little sweaty against yours
but you wouldn't let go,
not even to grab something out of the nearer pants pocket;
the town is empty, asleep, quiet,
and the noise of your feet on the pavement is almost offensive
but it fills the silence between you,
that lies in the small gap between your arms;
she's so close,
you missed her
and you know she missed you
but you pretend not to notice the way she keeps turning to look at you,
and you suppress the smile that surfaces each time you catch her eye
until you find yourselves in the alley,
away from the lights
and while pressed up against that wall,
pulling her closer and tasting every sweet thing she's said
and every laugh she's chased your jokes with
you pretend to understand
the complex perfection
of the simplicity and beauty
that is a summer night.

I miss the taste of infinity
I want to believe in something crazy
Something that shouldn't work
But does
I want to know that my world
Is built on hope
Reality is really just a nightmare
And I don't really wake up until
I'm dreaming

I trekked up that slushy hill, double time, because I was wasting minutes being anywhere you weren't. I don't think I've ever opened a door faster than in that moment before smashing my body into yours and breathing you in in one messy, rushed kiss. In French, instead if saying I miss you they say tu me manque, which means you are missing from me. This concept was explained to me, finally, as I was wrapped up in you and one of your many colognes. Lips and tongues and teeth and door frames. I could not feel anything because I was feeling everything. My conciousness extended no further than the tip of my nose and at every point my skin touched yours. It's been a while since I have understood myself in such a simple sense, but it was clear you knew me all along. I could tell from the way you traced me without looking and tickled my collarbone with kisses.
And finally,
your mouth moved from me and into
Hello

the emptiness i feel
          a gaping hole in my center
is not relief like they suggest
          the bursting in my heart
          the tearing, searing feeling
is not happiness or new found holiness
          today was not the resolution
but another day in hell
          the hottest yet
          what happens in 9 weeks
does not go away in one day
          i did not want to remember today
          how it felt, what it looked like
but now i feel robbed by the anesthetic and ativan  
         i do not have the closure
        how do i mourn what felt like a dream

suffocating guilt
unbearable loneliness

and so much red.

I sit
Realizing my day will consist
Of nothing more
Than bloated teas bags
Rain splattered windows
Sad songs
That make me miss you
And bad poetry
Because I can't stop
Thinking about what
You're doing with your day
And wondering
If you're thinking
That this would have been
The perfect day
To drink too much tea
Put that record on repeat
And ignore the rain on the windows
Because you're too wrapped up in me