I hope it all begins 
to matter more, 
that feelings emerge 
like a flower's roots 
ripping through concrete-
against character, 
against buried pain
& why not? 
I wish all my heartbreakers 
a love that challenges them 
to open up.







Interrupt me with
a rude passionate kiss, I 
don't want polite love. 
  









   I'm drawn to your words,
   your beautiful syllables; 

   let's collaborate. 

If I sit on my talents,
I'll watch them become flat.
If I say I can't,
I won't.
If I make it true before tried,
dead before alive,
I decide defeat
without a strategy.
But what if 
I run 
like everything
is ahead of me?

Some of the most awkward introductions 
have turned into oddly 
the best friendships for me. 
There was no instant approval,
no mental clinking of glasses, 
maybe even a general resistance.
We had ideas painted on each other 
in the colors we believed the other was.
We had assumptions 
& invisible ruffled feathers.
My personality takes time to fully appreciate 
& good goodness & luck
have I fucked up before 
but oh, can I love.  
All the sides of me come out 
steadily 
& I too continue to be happily surprised 
by the changes in my eyes,
by my evolving perspective
of who I thought somebody was. 

Strange that there was something safe
about wanting people who broke my heart 
but not my pattern. 
Eventually my back would snap
& I'd be trapped by my feelings. 
I'd be troubled by trails of ash 
where bridges used to be, 
by skeletons of wounded pride,
& shadowed hearts craving my light.  
When I chose people who hurt me 
maybe it's because really
I was scared of 
real love.
I chased deeper feelings
but never rested with them. 





















Love is not last night;
its in the morning, my dear,
awake with the sun.










You forget the light 
until clouds eclipse the sun, 
like me when I'm gone.













You try to cut at me
& I may splinter in pain,
my colors may be drained
but I'm a fuckin forest;
only I set fire to myself 

not you.  


























Love is not last night;
its in the morning, my dear,
awake with the sun.










You forget the light 
until clouds eclipse the sun, 
like me when I'm gone.













You try to cut at me
& I may splinter in pain,
my colors may be drained
but I'm a fuckin forest;
only I set fire to myself 

not you.  





















Love is not last night;
its in the morning, my dear,
awake with the sun.










You forget the light 
until clouds eclipse the sun, 
like me when I'm gone.










Your eyes told me all.
Music plays in your pupils 

& I want to dance.











You forget the light 
until clouds eclipse the sun, 
like me when I'm gone.













You try to cut at me
& I may splinter in pain,
my colors may be drained
but I'm a fuckin forest;
only I set fire to myself 

not you.  





















Love is not last night;
its in the morning, my dear,
awake with the sun.










You forget the light 
until clouds eclipse the sun, 
like me when I'm gone.










Your eyes told me all.
Music plays in your pupils 

& I want to dance 

















Love is not last night;
its in the morning, my dear,
awake with the sun.










You forget the light 
until clouds eclipse the sun, 
like me when I'm gone.










Your eyes told me all.
Music plays in your pupils 

& I want to dance 

Haiku

Anyone could call
your kind of love "crazy" if
they're not used to it

You told me it'd do me a world of good 
to toughen up,
to not be so like a sponge 
to others' emotions.
Don't be so sensitive.
But then I thought 
what had your world done to you?

I thought
how can you not see how you are hurting me?
How can you see me cry
& not know the pain it took
for me to not even have the words anymore,
to not even know what to do but be overcome
& leak out
because when it doesn't make sense
even my body tries to help.
Even my body feels how heavy my mind is
& tries to release some of that pain;
it tries to expel it out, to let it flow,
let it roll & melt down my jaw.
But you stare blankly back at me
& I realize when I wipe my eyes,
when I smear the image of you away,
the world broke your heart a long time ago.

I want to center you
with my energy.
I want to take all the reasons
you're attracted to me
& melt them into keys
for parts you've denied yourself
but found in me.

You tell me that you've made your life so different,
that you moved away from a place that visits.
You left the island.
You left a time
& what haunts you.
You harp on those who didn't leave
yet you carry it with you.

I start to get in a routine.
I leave clingy times behind.
I'm comfortable waking up with only 
my expressions & thoughts. 
I invite my focus to face myself. 
I sweat beside hillsides on my own. 
I'm with the breeze & the trees & my capable knees
breathing deeply. Quietly. 
There's no one meeting me. 
I crave touch not to soothe or rule me;
but because I'm human. 
It's alright if my laundry is unfolded 
or my legs aren't shaved. 
It's okay if I don't have energy today. 
I don't worry about the interpretation of events. 
I don't worry about the present 
shifting to past tense. 
My heart is only speaking to me. Happy & alone. 
Then you come along 
& I want to fuck this all up.

It was the summer after the first year of college,
everyone was back home.
I was feeling sexier & bolder than before.
I had a party while my parents were out of town.
You were there.
I always liked you.
I always wanted to know you more than classes.
You were smart but played it down to be cool.
You talked to me online because I was too shy in person,
but I saw you in my own hallway.
You asked me where the bathroom was
so I pulled you by the shirt
& said: "it's right here" & pushed you into my brother's old room
(sorry Matt) where we began ferociously making out.
All of my shyness unbuttoned,
all the old thoughts of you erupted from my mouth & hands,
fucking finally!
Now I wonder what you're doing
how you are
& how badly you had to go the bathroom.