I love you.

That's to say,
I sent you a text before leaving for work:
"There's half of an orange on the counter for you"

I am not alone
My father stands beside me with a shield
His army stands behind

This is how it has been
This
Is how it shall be

I am not fearless
But I have none to fear

My father pursues those
Who come
In pursuit of me

So I will not fear
For who can stand
Against the Almighty?

I’ve always been one to enjoy the burn
But this
This is a new level
Of salt in the wound

You are cold to the touch
Leaving blisters
Where you grab my wrist
And pin me down

The longer you stay
The longer I scream
Until the pain is numb
And I do not feel enough
To need you to leave

You burn me anyway

Maybe snow cones
And pickup lines
Aren’t meant to go
Hand in hand,
But I needed a map
Because I was lost in your eyes.

You gave me a snow cone
I gave you my number
And maybe
That’s not a good trade
But you thought
Maybe
It was worth it
At least for one night.

You’re just a football-playing
Baseball boy
And maybe
There was a spark
And maybe
You liked the taste of grape
That lingered on my lips
And maybe
You’re still going
To text me back.

But maybe
Is no assurance
To a girl
In love with love
And boys who make
Snow cones.

I always wondered
If something I never had
Could hurt me

But then I held my breath
And my lungs screamed for the air
They didn’t have

It’s kinda crazy
How you talk like maple syrup
And think like a long winter
Your words bite
Like stinging sleet

I find cuddling by the fire
With a cup of coco
And blankets piled high
So soothing

But shouldn’t I be worried
About the storm raging outside?

Sometimes it takes
Hearing your breath
Go
         in
And
                  o u t
To know that you’ll be okay

My garden was always
More lethal than pretty.
Thorns, not roses
Berries too deadly to eat.
Surrounding me.
Surrounding my house,
And heart.
Letting in none.
My own blockade.

Then you came.
You plowed through
The tall thorns, throwing
kisses and sweet words.
You planted beds of tulips
Where thorns had once been.
The berries?
They've rotted,
The sweet lullabies and promises
Too much to handle.
In their place grows wildflowers,
A meadow, calling my name.

My garden was then,
More pretty than lethal.
Where thorns had thrived,
Blooms took over.
Where stone once sat,
Trees had grown.
A garden.
Filled, yet empty.
No longer my own
Blockade.

But weeds
Silently take over the flowers.
Lies drown the wildflower meadow,
which once grew freely in my heart.
A blockade begins, thorns thriving once again.
And then you leave.

My garden was always
More lethal than pretty.
Thorns, not roses
Berries too deadly to eat.
Surrounding me.
Surrounding my house,
And heart.
Letting in only you.

Now my blockade
Of thorns without roses,
Waits.
Waits to be
More pretty than lethal.
••• ••• ••• •••
-T.C., Broken Blooms

Mom says
I should call it what it is.
A scarf, cologne,
A movie ticket.
But instead
I boxed up our first date.
And burned it.

Does riding home
Without a seatbelt
(Left unbuckled on purpose)
Count as a suicide attempt?

Asking for a friend
Who lost control of the wheel

I am 3.5 steps behind you
You always said you had nine lives
Dear Sylvia, I wish you had stayed
For just one

Dear Sylvia, of all the ways to choose
You create poets who find no art in baking
Though I suppose our ovens
Are viewed a bit differently now

The brownies come out burnt
I write a poem about the time I
Thought about killing myself
but got distracted
reading Sylvia Plath

I am addicted to deja vu
In the form of
Sunsets
And goodbyes
And thinking I’ve found love

And hey, you seem so familiar.
Have I seen you somewhere before?

I’m crying again
But not like before

The highway lines are blurred
Yet I feel better than ever

There’s a way of letting go
And giving it all
To the one who loves you
For all your impurities
That makes you feel
Like singing
In the car
With tears
On your cheeks

Tell me
What’s your endgame plan?
You snap your fingers
And I melt in your hand
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
I wish I
Could rescue us

I’m watching
My happiness
c
   r
     u
       m
          b
             l
               e

and

F
A
L
L

a  p  a  r  t

In front of me.

We aren’t an album
We’re the single
That played on the radio
Until everyone hated it
Including us.

Humor me with your insults
By now I’ve heard this stand up comedy routine so many times
I could do it sitting down
Laughter is the best medicine but I am overdosing
This substance in a prescription bottle with your name on it
It makes me toss my head back with the pills
And I laugh and I laugh