I take compliments,
like I take sugar in my coffee
so,
not at all

maybe someday
I’ll spill my guts to you
lay out everything that has hurt me and is still hurting me
give the story behind every poem I’ve ever written and heard and loved
maybe I’ll tell you everything,
you who was not here to witness
who didn’t see the rise and fall of rome,
the death of Latin but the survival of it’s plays
you who hasn’t been here long enough for the unfurling
maybe I’ll rip off all my petals
show you the inner workings myself
maybe someday,
I’ll tell you all the parts that I leave out, when I comfort you from the same burdens that crushed me
show you all the scars on my tongue, from biting it around you
tell you the stories these scars held back
maybe someday
I’ll just simply tell you everything
introduce you to my demons
and let you see the monstrous teeth that sit in rows behind my own
the blood under my fingernails, not all someone else’s
and see what you do
maybe someday I’ll tell you everything
maybe someday I'll spill my guts to you
maybe,
maybe one day

“don’t do it,”
I say, to the brown eyed best friend opposite me
“don’t ever love anyone. Not ever.
It’s how people get hurt,
Believe me
I saw what happened to the others.”
Her brunette waves bounce in an agreeing nod,
“just,
just promise me you won’t.
Okay?
just, promise you’ll focus on you”
there’s a stunted wavering, to my tiny voice
as I try to find the words to match my conviction
“Don’t get distracted.
You’ve gotta make something of yourself.
Something real big okay,
I know you can.”
her chin drops and she averts her eyes at my praise
as though she doesn’t know yet, what she’s capable of
“You’re going to be something real big,
Just, you can’t do that with anyone else
Okay?
So, don’t love anyone
They’ll only get in your way”
Your better than me
You can’t let anything get in your way
You’re supposed to be something.”
At this,
Her lips turn from cupids bow to longsword
And she scrunches up her freckle frosted nose as her eyebrows knit themsleves into a sweater
“So promise me,”
I say, scooting closer,
“Promise me you won’t care for anyone.
Not even me,
Not even me. I’m not good enough.
no one at all.
Just be the best.”
She nods, defiantly agreeing
To the plan
though looking away in discomfort
I catch her eyes, not done yet
not satisfied with her response
“Pinky promise?” I say, Extending my nail polish chipped baby finger
To hers
an unbreakable pinky promise
to be doubly sure no one will break her

she extends her
Nail polish chipped baby finger towards mine
And I reach for her,
crossing the distance between our hands

until I hit the mirror

I am digging down
Pushing dirt and rock and seed and grass
Up, out, behind
Up, out, behind
Away from the surface
The light and color and noise and flutter above
Down, in, behind
Down, in, behind
With earth’s heavy insides
And my head and shoulders and fingers and feet
Move further and further
Towards the warm, holy center
The soft light and heat
Away from the blinding, the deafening, and unbearable above
To the below
Where all is quiet,
Just the heartbeat of the earth,
Cradled in the womb of a planet
Where nothing is hurting,
Here,
Beneath the dirt

People always call anxiety
Butterflies
in your stomach.

but my anxiety,
feels like a million butterflies in my chest
all trying at once to fly out
when I open my mouth

or, my anxiety
feels like being surrounded by butterflies
all pushing, flapping against me
the wind of all their wings enough to wound
and I can't breathe
because when I open my mouth,
it's only butterflies.

and Butterflies,
Butterflies can see colors we can't
peer into the ultraviolet
to the letters written on the leaves
in the shades we can't comprehend
and things we can't begin to see
you could say,
they live in a whole different reality

kind of like my anxiety
they see things that aren't there
things that other people tell me,
them,
aren't there
but like the butterflies
I can see the the ultraviolet rays
and they're coming down on top of me and,
(isn't UV bad for you?
isn't UV how people get cancer??
isn't that how people die???)

but you tell me,
I'm afraid of things that aren't there
but like the butterflies
I can see it  
I can see the other colors
only,
when I open my mouth to tell you
to say I live in a different reality,
only butterflies come out

My friend the feeler
Tells me to stop thinking
To follow my intuition
As though thinking,
Has not been how I’ve gotten myself this far
Like telling a runner
To stop using their legs
To cross the finish line
To walk on their hands, if their feet are tripping on the dirt.
I tell my friend the feeler,
That I’ll try
Knowing full well that this is not something I can accomplish
I am a thinker,
I know my strengths
What I am good at
And I know where I fail (though I loathe to,
and never will, admit it)
So I tell her I’ll try
Not that I can’t,
Not that I can’t stop thinking
Can’t stop using my legs,

But that I’ll try
Because I am a thinker
And I know that learning something new isn’t impossible
Just hard

Tonight I am lonely
Tonight I am opening and closing
And opening and closing
Every way I talk to people
Every app and site
Every link I have to connection
But still,
I say nothing
Considering all the words at my finger tips
Not ones that will be enjoyed by others
My company only an encroachment
Onto someone else’s peaceful evening
So I close
And open
My door to the outside
But still stay in
And stay lonely