if love is a train,
i'm not getting on.
i'll lay in the tracks
eyes closed,
just to see if i'll die.
i know i'll wake
next to you,
so i don't really care
how i get there,
i just hope the train
is coming soon.

i was lost at sea,
dying of thirst
and you were the saltwater.

she was a chrysanthemum,
disenchanted with the sun who stole the water from her roots
disillusioned with the rain who ripped the petals from her face
disaffected with the gardener's boot who crushed her stem
she cursed the wind as it mocked her,
flying light and lively above her head
she met a bee once
who would sit on her petals,
fluttering its wings and staring
as if the world were dry
and she were the last sip of water.
and for a moment she thought
just maybe she was,
but she was a chrysanthemum
in a garden of too many flowers,
and the bee was gone before
the sun had left her to the mercy of the moon.
then one day,
a pair of hands found her wilting.
they scooped her up
planted her in a ***
brought her to a window
and watered her just enough.
she took her first real breath and saw
in the reflection of the window
that her stem was straight again
and her petals were strong and full.
she thanked the hands and
they went on being friends;
they gave her water and love and
she gave them beauty.
now she looks out the window
at the sun
and the rain
and the owner of the boot
and loves them.

will you ever be able to clear
the clouds over your eyes
that cast shadows on your mirror?
it's so dark in here
and you've hidden the light switch
as if neither you nor i
are enough to see your true colors.
but i knew with my eyes closed
from the sound of your voice
and the touch of your skin
that it was always
and only ever you
who could be enough

they say perfection
is nonexistent, but
i have learned
it is relative.

nihilism is your Mecca;
apathy your temple
i abandoned religion to follow you.
i thought you were the north star
but as it turns out,
you were nothing but an airplane
bound to crash
with one passenger inside.
but death doesn't matter, does it?
nothing does, in the end.
i was the eye of your hurricane,
the ostensible object of your affection,
terrified to
venture beyond the tiny circumference
of peace.
you'd line your shoes with razors
just to prove you felt no pain.
you were untouchable, you told me;
you concerned yourself for nothing,
i worried for everything.
as it turns out,
your glass ceiling was fragile
and sent you tumbling to rock bottom
when it finally shattered.
you loved the thrill of the free fall,
but i was afraid of heights.
i wouldn't be there for your downfall
though you seemed to know you'd survive.
i was left with no faith
little hope
and more questions than i knew how to ask.
it's been years now,
and still i wonder
were you lying all along,
or just deluded?

oh, that i could picture
your lineaments, soft
curves and angles
that i could conjecture eloquent
words, to color you
as blood colors my veins
would that i could hold you
between my fingers, as
ribs hold my lungs
that i could know you
like a brother
and love you
like the sunflower loves the sun;
bathing in the beauty
of magnificent mystery.
yet you are illicit,
despite these afflicting affections you elicit
you are proscribed by some
cosmic law.
i chase after you still,
though the universe binds my
hands and feet.
one day i'll reach you, darling,
i'll know you and love you and hold you
and we'll be outlaws together.