I thought about always
On the train that day
As I rushed across state lines
To be by your side

And I thought about always
When I got your calls from jail
Counting down the days
Until I could hold you again

And I thought about always
When I had doubts
After coming face to face
With your addiction
Watching you weaken in a way
I didn’t know was possible
For a substance I don’t understand
But that knows you all too well.

But always means
The fight is no longer yours
It is ours

And always means
I love you through the weakness and pain
And monitored phone calls
And thin glass dividers
That might as well be miles thick
Because either way
I can’t touch you.

And always means
You're the only one
Who could ever make me brave enough
To think about always


*ojc

At age 19, we talked about how we’d change the world.
We spoke of revolutions, of leading the masses, of burning everything to the ground.

At age 20, we talked about how we’d make it in the world.
We spoke of Bachelor’s degrees, of political discourse, of graduate school.

At age 21, we talked about how we’d survive in the world.
We spoke of refinancing our car loan, of apartments with utilities included, of budgets and personal finance.

At age 40, we’ll talk about how we can’t change the world.
We’ll speak of groceries, of laundry, of parent teacher conferences.

And it will be too late.

Maybe at age 19, our children will change the world.

sometimes i wonder
if the world i live in
is one i made up in my head
that exists only for me

and if that’s true
i don’t mind
because the world i’ve created
is filled with madness
but the best madness i’ve created for myself
is you

I have been conditioned
To submit
To sacrifice
To shut up and take it.

From the very first advances
That were a little too aggressive
To the subtle denying of my wishes
When I said stop and you said “shhh…”
When I said no and you said “why not?”
When I said I can’t and you said “please”
When I put my hand up and you pushed it away
When you thought it was romantic
To push my limits
When you thought coercion was normal
And submission was expected.
When I stopped questioning
Why your needs were more important than mine.
When your mouth said “I respect you”
But your hands said you didn’t.
When your sudden coldness
Sent chills down my spine
When your charming side disappeared
And your true self mystified me.

When I thought coercion was normal.

When I started to feel like nothing.

When my body was used
But not satisfied
Touched
But not felt.

When your laugh in the dark
Made me feel like a victim
In a horror movie

Up until I finally decided
That you are the beginning and end
Of my objectification.

Beer cans roll in the wind
On the roof of my apartment building
Sometimes I swear inanimate objects
Have ulterior motives

Whose lips ****** relaxation
Out of that can?
Whose hand crushed it into a crumpled wind instrument
And left it lying on the ground
When it had nothing left to give?

When, if ever, will the wind blow it down
From this rooftop onto the street below?
Then where will it go?