and it seems
as the leaves begin to hit the ground
my hopes and tears accompany them
for this is the fall of me
watch the last of my life fade out with
the crisp cool autumn colors

I lit his birthday candle
with the same lighter I use
to burn my thighs

I post these poems online

Not because they're good

But to keep a memoir of my thoughts

To look back on and be understood

I don't want to stay
On autopilot anymore
I wanna go home with a
Bouquet of wild flowers
Cook your favorite meal
And dance with you to
A Chet Baker song on
Our balcony by the
Light of the stars

'We are the daughters of men who warned us about the news, and the missing girls on milk cartons and the sharp edge of the world.
They begged us to be careful, to be safe, and then told our brothers to go out and play.'