I know it hurts now
but hear me out
this year will heal your wounds
your scars will be flower beds
your pain I will be sunshowers
and you will be writing love pieces
by the time winter comes again

I know it hurts now
but hear me out
I promise it won't when you're with her
as she holds your scars like your favorite jar
picking up the pieces you left after dropping it
because you were too tired to pick them up yourself

I know it hurts now
but hear me out,
I promise it won't when you let her in

promise me you will let her sow her seeds
in your garden you let weeds take control of
last summer when you died inside your bed

promise me you will water her roses
and hold her hand when she plants
lilacs over pieces of land you didn't know could host life

promise me you will let her love you
because you need it more than you show
promise me you will love her back
and that together you will grow

Rainbow colored jelly beans
Kaleidoscope dreams
Brightly colored sunsets
A patchwork quilt of wildflowers on grasshopper hill
Soft breezes cool what the sun has heated
As peaceful as it seems
Butterflies flutter by as the flowers sway
Sunshowers and songbirds
Inner peace in a perfect moment

Being away from you feels like needle pricked heart
Feels like every passing grain of sand
drives a canyon between us
For every moment we're apart
another ray of sunshine is drip-dripping from me
Like the faulty faucet in my bathroom,
baby, I just need a caring hand
A hug and a band-aid and a promise for tomorrow
But, until then,
sunshine rains in my gut 
and my sink still leaks

In my geographic corner, where it rains most often,
when it does not, I remember you
on the face of the rocks, lightfooted on the oracles
amongst the bobcats and the butterflies
and the sunshowers like curtains from real.
Years ago, but minutes; miles, no—
I cannot deny the miles.

I open my window on this spring morning and I
taste Delphi in the air, and you,
you everywhere.

i can't recall at what age i no longer feared death.
perhaps it was the day i saw a dead raccoon in the street,
puking its insides outward, like it ate something regrettable.
or maybe it was the day a suicide attempt brought a body to our shore
and though i was told to look away, i could not.
regardless of what brought me to this state, here i remain,
dismantling razors to get to their blades.
my skin has always been dry, like canvas,
so it only makes sense to use it as such,
a storyboard of misery and anguish covered my thighs
because anything was better than feeling numb.
i sometimes fantasize about what it must feel like to die
is it similar to the feeling of a sunshower on your skin,
or perhaps the wind dancing through your hair?
i've been dying to find out.
i'm aware that death is a fad these days
whether overdose or accident, slates are wiped clean
past mistakes erased.
if the promise of a swift and painless demise could be universal,
i'm sure more would feel the same as i.
what's scary is the pain, the unimaginable pain
that accompanies swallowing a fistful of pills or a swig of bleach
it's agony.
i've found myself closer and closer to reaching this point,
this point where i've no reason to be, and god,
it's so hard to backtrack.
in the same way that it's difficult to breathe easy,
the nearly impossible is found when i try not to mourn
what i haven't yet lost.

Hope is a man who
calls me crazy
with laughter in
his eyes and
a shake of his head.

It’s someone who
explains his passions
with joy because
he wants to share
that part of his brain.

It’s the soul that
catches the light
and reminds me
of the sun
on a cloudy day.

It’s the person who
turns tears into
laughter with gentle
words and a smile
like summer sunshowers.

Hope is the man who
I want to plan
stories with and
parties for while
sitting hand in hand.

your cool hands beckoned my shaky knees,
take me among the pine trees, please.
driving home through adirondack sunshowers,
i became yours in the fields of mountain flowers.
you loved me through the darkest night,
and you still want me in the mornings light.

i think that fragile people are attracted to me
like someone who is lost in the woods
would find a berry bush,
but they don't know i'm poison.
i look like someone who will be gentle with you,
but that's just the surface,
and if you scratch it neither of us will get out in one piece.
i wouldn't go out of my way to hurt you,
but i might not go out of my way to keep you safe either.
so run while you still can.
run, don't even give me the chance to hurt you.
stay away from sunshowers like me.
my sunny skies will keep you so distracted
you won't even notice the rain
until you're soaked to the bone.
so stay away from my cold war heart
and my civil war mouth,
for both of our sakes.
i'm sorry i smile like i want  you safe.
i should come with warning labels,
with signs that say "beware,"
and caution tape around my heart.
i should look poisonous, not innocent.

Courage came in sunshowers
She flew me over skyscrapers
And nourished all my gardens
When courage came, so did rain
So I never knew her strength
Hidden under lakes of wonder,
Didn't know I could swim through waves
Courage came in sunshowers
And changed the shape of lands
Courage was strong enough to let go
Of my hand

And I made my first step alone

Golden Afternoon-
I’ve waited years
To find you
When you were
Right here
All along.
Hidden under
Frozen nights and
Frore hearts.
I tore apart my
Chest to find
You.
I never asked for
This endless game
Of hide and seek.
I am no longer
Hiding.
Let the sun showers
Bathe me in their
Golden, elegant
Glow.
I face my
Inner light.
No more hiding in
The shadows.

when the sunlight
kisses my shoulder
i find myself wondering
if maybe
thats what your
lips feel like

but you are
not confined
to the light,
i feel you
even in the night

the harshest storms
are like sunshowers
because
youre the silver lining
in my downpour

(and i find myself
constantly
reaching out to you
for more)

and again it rains
this time
a slow misting drizzle
soft to the ear

it has been raining
for days now
tempestous storms
full of sound and fury

steady rain,
with rhythmic monotony

hopeful sunshowers
with optimistic rainbows

nightime gushers
overflowing the gutters

now this today
this grey day drizzle
falling into puddles
washing an already
washed  world

I'll be the first to admit it was my weakest year in terms of my spirits. I'm naturally strong but this year I was lazy when faced with the challenge of having to adapt. New and unfamiliar tragedies struck, harsher weather hit and I was last in line to defend myself. Picking it all back up won't be pretty. Pieces lie around like shattered toys. Boy, is it something to watch yourself fall apart but care so deeply about another person you forget to care for yourself. It's another thing, too, to let yourself believe you don't deserve to get better. To deprive yourself of water and light to insist you're strong enough to fight fire with fire when you already burned out. What's that about? I was weak, and I won't pretend I was growing into something worth being proud of. I lied a lot this year, to myself the most. I watched my world crumble around me and those who bore witness claimed hyperbole. That was devastating to me. A world I'd carved with my own hands, shattered and then made into a mockery. So I let go of making the world mine, I ran out of steam. I was weak. I was so ******* weak this year and I lost almost every piece of me. I don't like that attitude, the whole "New year, New me" but boy, am I sick of being this one. I got too scared to ask for help, convinced I was in fact stronger than anyone on my own. That's until I was alone and I fell apart 125 nights in a row. I was weak, but I was more scared than anything. Courage came like sunshowers and lifted me above skyscrapers but only for field trips. We always forget we have to go home at the end of the day, remember? I would ask for a hand only when falling and would wake up and learn that I was dreaming. Reality hit me like a bus this year, and I never reached for a hand when I wasn't in bed. I missed that too, holding onto something warm after cold nights and red skin. Let it sink in, when you're falling out of love for the first time and you don't think you're going to get past it, you will. But you'll lose a lot of who you thought you were, too. I did that this year. I'm sorry. I'm not who I was when I was in love. I'm not that girl anymore and I'm not weak. I'm standing on my own two ******* feet here, now. I'm here, now. You haven't seen the last of me. I was weak, and things were ugly. I was drunk and I can't remember the last time I felt at peace where a substance didn't do it for me, but I've felt it before on my own and know well enough what that heat feels like when it sits in your stomach. I miss the flutter in my heart after writing a good poem or watching a sunrise in May. I miss a lot that I put away this year because underneath their top coats were memories I was not ready to face. I'm only 20, loss is something I understand now. Everyone said I would survive and for months I was convinced they lied but I'm here now, my hearts beating now. I can't say I'm weak anymore because I'm still alive to tell you about it. Just wait until you see what I make from the pieces I choose to pick back up and the new ones I make. This year is mine to take. Here's to you, 2017.

sunshowers and settling
dust, raising the hairs of
a spider.
sea bulges of tar, flash-gashes
on pavement.
wish-strewn petals flattened
by wheels of time.
little beaks biting hazy veils
of sunshine, flying them along
in gentle rustles.
dropping them down on
inflating and deflating shadows.

A year since I first tasted life
No more filters or ghost kissers for me
A year since my body and soul were set on fire
In a long weekend's puddle, it came
It's my secret birthday
of love and pain
It all began with my glitter slippers in my feet
I walk the path of spring...
and its sunshowers
its storms
its weather...crazy

Thomas, go **** your self.
But you were the first.
I cannot forget.
Unworthy beginning.
A year since.