you’re a drop of light in my shadows, and they’re closing in

i can run towards that hopeful exit until i’m out of breath but i never seem to reach it, as if it draws back each time i make progress, each time it seems like a likely outcome

speak, touch, dispel these thoughts with the palms of your hand or tongue. vocal chords vibrate me back to somewhere i can rest without being afraid anymore

hook the claws of your dark into mine, and maybe together, we can fight it off once and for all.

but separate, we are nothing. lost. just because i sink in the shallows doesn’t mean i can’t save you from drowning, or you, me.

i’m spinning you like silver into a fragile web somewhere deep, stay, stay, stolkholm syndrome, i don’t know how easy my defenses will weaken after all this time safe in your glow.

guide me home, your shadow like a comets silver tail

i’ve got the clenches, omega clouds coming through my finger tips, wrapping around my ribs

teeth sinking into my guts, moth wings spreading a shadow across my face

you celestial body, you, coming into my orbit, setting my tides asunder, rocking my tectonics somewhere new each revolution around my gaia, my earth, my green tendrils reaching up to that makeshift sun i never found the time to watch before

you’re rising over my horizons, scattering those spirits so thin, so far that i can’t remember flying fetal, stagnance, this skin-prison locking me in and swallowing the key

when you cross back over, to places out of my sight, i remember those shakes until you return again, but that grand new growth stays put. black rot can’t work it’s magic on such strong limbs anymore. some brand of chlorophyll pumps through my veins, and when you leave my orbit once and for all, as all celestial bodies do (how much can my mountains move? the melting of my ice caps can only drown my dry land for so long) i hope that golden fire keeps pumping through and through, and i hope i continue the silver magic i seemed to have worked on you, far after the spell i’ve cast has worn off.

i will be the straw that breaks your back

the cement on your shoes

caging your birds and locking your doors

burdens blasting back through

guide me home, your shadow like a comets silver tail

i’ve got the clenches, omega clouds coming through my finger tips, wrapping around my ribs

teeth sinking into my guts, moth wings spreading a shadow across my face

you celestial body, you, coming into my orbit, setting my tides asunder, rocking my tectonics somewhere new each revolution around my gaia, my earth, my green tendrils reaching up to that makeshift sun i never found the time to watch before

you’re rising over my horizons, scattering those spirits so thin, so far that i can’t remember flying fetal, stagnance, this skin-prison locking me in and swallowing the key

when you cross back over, to places out of my sight, i remember those shakes until you return again, but that grand new growth stays put. black rot can’t work it’s magic on such strong limbs anymore. some brand of chlorophyll pumps through my veins, and when you leave my orbit once and for all, as all celestial bodies do (how much can my mountains move? the melting of my ice caps can only drown my dry land for so long) i hope that golden fire keeps pumping through and through, and i hope i continue the silver magic i seemed to have worked on you, far after the spell i’ve cast has worn off.

oh, it’s there in the way the heat creeps up my neck. the way the smallness runs down my throat to my gut. you’d think i’d learn to run by now, you know?

keep it close, quiet.

let it flower out like ink in water, tendrils creeping closer and closer as you draw yourself back, not wanting the taint of darkness on your skin.

you think i’d learn to run, by now.

je t’aime, mais je te traite comme je dois vous laisser

it’s there in the way my body smiles when i see you, the way it tilts toward you like a flower to the sun. in the way it is to be a flame, lapping against my skin and spreading to my mouth.

yes, you’d think i’d learn to run by now.

the way she moves, really, it’s not fair. as if angels sit upon her hips, drawing eyes before flying away- leaving me sunstruck by the light tracing her walk. and the way she closes her eyes? it’s like poetry. the curves of her eyelids, of her smile. her waist. it’s not fair- i can barely help myself. oh, and the way she whispers, it’s like you can hear what it is to be in love in the lilts and turns of her voice. and you can never stop looking at the oceans, the moons, the stars, the worlds behind her skin, because to blink is to risk her disappearing.

come and gone, like that dream you regret having, just because you will eventually have to wake.

memory is a funny thing

some of my most cherished memories are just fragments of a smile and the way sunshine fell across an arm. or a black and white tiled floor with dogs barking ‘visitor!’. the way a sidewalk looked and the way the air smelled. cold hands and a car ride home. hands around my waist. the smell of warm, sweet milk on my skin. a song and laughter.

even the standout sad memories are just the way hands felt on skin and the texture of sheets, or how rough the fabric of a couch was. the way a garage smelled and a tone of voice. bathwater. a hot neck. green walls. carpet rough against my cheek.

if i try really hard, i can usually bring back the whole thing. but memory is strange, as is.

you just hang on until the morning because you know that if you let go, if you let go everyone will leave and you will regret it because everything seems better with light, with people you love

oh because, sweetheart, everyone backs away once they see the cracks unless you time it just right. and they either see you as a work of art or worthless, depending on how you reveal the fraying threads that lie beneath every skin

you can tell every secret because you’re afraid no one will ask, but eventually you will get tired of answering. you’ll start hearing the names of people you’ve lost in every poem and every bad sad song that pops into your head. and there are things you still can’t talk about, maybe never will

i lost your face in a cold hallelujah that night. it fit with the rain and the sleet and the swerving, and it makes me wonder to think that something that once meant joy now means sorrow.

and, oh, i am sorry.

i guess it was hard to miss, your tall body laying there in red. the paramedics must have cried to think of how beautiful you once were. i know i did

it will never make a difference, but if it did, i would never stop apologizing- for not knowing, or at least pretending not to.

did we really not see you sinking back into the blue? or did we blame it on winter, on business, on chemicals?

this story ends sadly, and i only see you in black in white, now that you’re gone.

she is tall and you are gawky and all she wants (she says) is intelligent conversation but all she really wants (she thinks) is to be kissed hard up against lockers. to be wanted. you seem so old inside and so odd and you have secrets that she doesn’t know and she is in trouble in over her head because you will kiss her hard against lockers and won’t stop when she doesn’t like it

…

he is short and you are tall but really you are the same height and you wear too-red lipstick and he thinks it’s too much and you know so you stop. he is exactly like the one you really love most and you love him just as much and would do anything and fall too fast. and you are past where you should be and he doesn’t love you.

…

you love her so much and would do anything, anything, anything stop bullets for her because she means so much. and you know you have to keep it a small town close mouthed secret because of fathers and cruel schoolchildren.

but really it’s a secret because she doesn’t love you back

…

he sees you cross streets and cross hallways to avoid him and it hurthurthurts like a stab in the gut when he does. and he’s not talking shit, he just needs you to know that he needed you.

…

she loves everyone and you are so greenfacemeanface jealous but you never say so. and you are so so so surprised when she comes to you first.

she loves everyone, but she loves you most

…

he does the sweetest things but you never believe him because you don’t realize what you’re worth.

or maybe you do and you just realize that things end and no one ever means it

…

you use her for sex and quick love and you use the excuse “workworkworkdullboyhahabadjoke” for when she needs you and you don’t want to be there.

but she is always there, waiting at doors and watching at windows.

go home

…

you love her

maybe

you need her

yes

love and need are different things.

you need the way she listens and doesn’t complain and the way she gives herself up to you.

and you love the way she sounds and the way she squeaks and the way she cares

but you don’t love her

(six months later)

she is gone and hates you now but you really understand. she doesn’t really know what she wants anymore and you just want to stay on the sidelines and shake.

…

he is bigger than he feels and you the opposite. you pretend like you hate him and he pretends like he doesn’t. he doesn’t know who to think about at night anymore and fell into the arms of his best friend but her name doesn’t have the same ring to it yours once did.

…

you love her but she lies about those things she shouldn’t. and you feel your hearts get clouded by the smoke she loves so much while you feel guilty for helping her fall for you just because she has breasts and so do you.

…

he hates all of you because he needed you and you left when that need was the most fervent. he turns to those friends who want to understand and tries not to let it get to him when he runs into you at the supermarket.

…

it’s that girl again, the one who was there all along. and you look at her with those big brown eyes and she sits on your lap and her laugh sounds like your heart breaking. you want another chance and so does she but shes so scared of those things that make her shake at night.

…

things end.
but it’s not that no one ever means it, it’s that no one’s ever meant it yet.

…

it’s been over a year and you still won’t say i love you because all she is for you is skin on skin.
she feels like water down the drain but will never say so because to protest is to lose you.

…

you didn’t love her.

though you wanted her to think that.

you needed her because you can’t let go of anything

but you never confused the two, you just had the knowledge that unless you lied, she’d leave you first.

you needed the way she was always there and let you feel bigger than anything else.

and you loved someone else.

but you don’t love her

(a year later)

she has him. and you are gone, sitting with someone else quietly on couches.

…

he has moved on to this new girl who you hate. she is taller and thinner, prettier and more well-built. her hair is longer and you hate her for it. he is happy and you are not.

who’s really left, anymore?

…

you don’t know what you’ll do when she’s gone. you love her oh so much, but she is so quick to believe everyone except you.

…

he has new prospects and new hallways. but sometimes, late at night, a flash of bare skin or a sparkle of brown eyes crash across his mind and he retreats into knee-holding and lip-biting.

…

you couldn’t stop her from shaking at night, content to ignore and then cry wolf. you had your chance, her lips on yours, her hand on your back. your chance to breathe.

you are suffocating.

…

waiting.

…

she doesn’t talk to those old friends anymore.

you’re still sweating and groaning, and she’s still water down the drain.

…

you don’t speak anymore.

and you want to think it upsets her.

you need to matter.

but you don’t.

she smokes and laughs it up. she wastes her time getting drunk at parties and touching guys she’s never met, and lying about how scared she is. she hates her parents and she hates her life and she looks for bright spots in friends and boys and drugs but they don’t get her anywhere. she’s not going anywhere.

…

she just wants to feel loved, so she let’s you touch her and see her body because that’s the only way she knows how to get those words out.

…

he’s stuck three hours away from where he should be. and he’s getting lost in this girl who is still in love with someone else. and he doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into.

…

she’s gone and you’re left here, wishing on bar lights because there are no stars left.

…

she’s a math major, and her day is spent in calculations. calculating how much more she’s eating than anyone else, and how many calories she can consume before she makes herself throw up in the toilet.

…

he doesn’t love her and he’s stuck dancing around words he’s too afraid to say.

i fall in love with broken hearts

angry kids

works of art

i fall in love with drama queens

broken boys

fucked up teens

spend my days strung up high

swung down low

with all these words wasted,

where’s left to go?

autumn skies and sleepless nights

girl you were my lullaby

some are silver and others gold

i love the new but i need the old.

everything seems to fall apart as soon as i grab hold.

she has him. and you are gone.

…

he has moved on to this new girl who you hate. she is taller and thinner, prettier and more well-built. her hair is longer and you hate her for it. he is happy and you are not.

who’s really left, anymore?

…

you don’t know what you’ll do when she’s gone. you love her oh so much, but she is so quick to believe everyone except you.

…

he has new prospects and new hallways. but sometimes, late at night, a flash of bare skin or a sparkle of brown eye crash across his mind and he retreats into knee-holding and lip-biting.

…

you couldn’t stop her from shaking at night, content to ignore and then cry wolf. you had your chance, her lips on yours, her hand on your back. your chance to breathe.

you are suffocating.

…

waiting.

…

she doesn’t talk to those old friends anymore.

you’re still sweating and groaning, and she’s still water down the drain.

…

you don’t speak anymore.

and you want to think it upsets her.

you need to matter.

but you don’t.

godforsaken rage filled with failure and lies. pacified by empty relief in after-hours basements. live beyond rules, limits, breaks.

a gun, the first step to eternal life. the noise, the sonic boom. i know we really won’t die. expanding fast below the speed of legend.

you’re trained. you don’t understand. breaking space, destroying history.

kill your last minutes- glass sparkling, a point in the sky. forget and let yourself be carried off on the wind.