petals pressed in enveloped sleeves, know, please

hearts need more than undug, rooted holes. don't

plant promises you can't uphold, try to send

hope in forms of light on fragmented souls; me--

i like how they sparkle like stained glass. flowers

grow then die at your fingers, just as men. please,

borrow and barter memories--don't

pluck delicacies, it wilts them to tragedy. send

bottled words tightened by actions; know me

as the lover who craves time. not, flowers.

I immerse myself in the sun

swallowing gold

within tattered lungs

gravity no more than a delicate red string

in a child's

soft chubby hands ,

my body lifts and pivots in a boundless spell

swirling somersaults

on the edge of the light

cutting air between oxygen and lost time .

I am something yet unsaid

lifetimes

of dying stars

fireworks waiting to be lit

I immerse myself in the sun

I swallow myself up

starting creation at day one .

reinventing structural walls

the blueprints

to my soul

Your hands are often too rough. The skin at the edges of your nail beds is peeled back and hardened and has, on occasion, been known to bleed without warning. If I run my thumb along the inside of your palm, I know exactly where it will catch on raised callouses. And even when I’m alone, I can feel the spot where your fingers would rest in the webbing of my own. My skin is electric shocks at the thought of the places where your fingertips most often linger. Nerve endings, attention-wrought. Breath, hitched in tightrope suspension. And I can count your freckles without you in the room. I could draw a map of your skeleton from memory. Place each rib in its exact location. Carve the precise depth of your clavicle. I know the pattern your teeth leave on each of my hips and how your tongue feels restless against my own. My neck can recall each spot where your lips chap and how often your front teeth push past them. I am violently aware of the spots where your hair refuses to lie against your scalp and instead reaches skyward. The sighs and stutters that litter your speech patterns. I can feel the sharp intake of your breath when my teeth close just a bit too hard on your frame. And that slight leak of CO2 in nighttime stillness. I sleep, dizzy in your exhales as they fill up my inhales. I would swear I have been constructed from the realization of the space that you fill in relation to all of the emptiness I leave behind. And you forgot the color of my eyes.

*this piece is from my newest collection baby, sweetheart, honey coming in January and available wherever books are sold.

i've always been able to feel every crack. every fracture in me has been all encompassing and at the forefront of my occupations. i couldn't see them. no one could see any proof that i had ever been shattered.

i made them visible. i drew the cracks on my body with blood. it numbed me and relieved me to know it was all real.

the cracks are still there though. they were permanent. i don't want them anymore. i don't want these reminders of how bad things can get. i'm sick of feeling like a vase waiting to topple.

but the lovely thing about breaking is that someone might scoop up the pieces. pick you up, bit by bit, and lay you down on a table. they'll start to glue parts together, figuring out the puzzle and understanding how this was first done. they'll hold you when they finish and admire how you can still hold flowers even when you had just been a pile of shards.

you'll learn to put yourself together. you'll always need help with a few pieces, but it gets easier. sometimes you can stop yourself falling. sometimes someone might catch you. it's okay to break.

My mother always told me that there was beauty in the unknown. I never truly understood what that meant until I was staring the unknown in the face. It was breathtaking. I think sometimes we get so focused on the known and how it affects us that we take for granted the journey of the discovery. At least, that's what my mother believed. It was poetic, how much she sought adventure, right up until the adventure found her unexpectedly and she wasn't prepared. She died when I was twelve. I still don't know how. But I never forgot the look she got in her eyes whenever she found something new. It scared me sometimes. That she might just seek the next adventure and then lose herself in the dreams.

But now the unknown is staring me in the face and I have to make a choice. Do I follow in the footsteps of my late mother, whose voice I still hear guiding me forward even now, or do I choose to be content with the known, the safe, the sure?

This is the choice I face now, as the shadows loom in front of me, promising life, love, happiness. But also pain. Loss. Corruption.

I don't know what I will find on the other side. I don't know if I'll regret being fearless. I'm sure my mother did the moment she realized that she wasn't ever going to return home. But I have the same choice to face now that she did all those years ago. The end is calling me, and whether it will be the end of life or death, I suppose I won't know until it's too late. But as for me, if this rapid fire beating of my heart is any indication, then I know that I cannot just stay here and do nothing. 

With the courage of my mother as the wind in my sails, I inch slowly toward the wall of shadows in front of me. So close that I could reach out and touch them. With one final breath, I push into the darkness, and the world goes black.

--

word count: 356

happy november, writers! thus begins the journey of our protagonist (still unnamed) as she sets off to discover what exists beyond the edge of the world. please reach out if you would like regular chapter notifications! <3

When I fall back, my body falls deep.

Into a relaxing thank you for that extra hour of sleep.

When I spring forward, my body moves slow. My dream was cut off,

it had another hour to go.

If mankind could leave alone what nature put in place.

No one would wake up screaming coffee with a zombie face. LoL

i. reduced to a singularity of twitching anxiety,

i stood on those risers and projected the confidence i knew i lacked.

hands shaking, heart beating faster, faster, f a s t e r

everyone around me moving, talking, singing

too many voices in my mind that won't shut up.

ii. hidden beneath layers of individuality,

i don't stand out, a one in a sea of hundreds

maybe if they don't notice me, they won't notice when i leave.

iii. eyes, locked on mine, almost as intently as my own,

would be off-putting if it weren't so home.

without fear in your eyes, the future of uncertainty

but now all the anxiety is gone, pouf.

iv. you will never know the impact your unflinching gaze had on me.

forbidden and longing, broken wishes by which she dreams, her thoughts caressing the sky as she waits for him by the sycamore tree. he looks past her as always, asking about her day, her friend (his ex), and they briefly discuss his new girl. he doesn’t notice the look that crosses her face as the conversation twists between the weather, love, and goodbyes. she wishes that he would just take the time to see her, really see her, but as usual, he’s gone before she even has the chance to say everything that she wishes she could. he thinks he’s happy, but he’s still searching, much like her. he doesn’t deserve her and she doesn’t deserve this ignorance, this blind friendship. they both deserve more. but not each other. never each other. and yet she dares to dream. dares to talk about him, dares to think about him, dares to love him, even as she knows that her wildest dreams can never do this reality justice. even as she knows that she has never been one to stand by and watch. but this is out of her hands now. and she must come to terms with that, however cold and sharp it may be.

welcome

back

into my arms

burnt yellow

jamais vu

this heart

safe

as evanescent

home

just as the walls begin to close in, i grab a hoodie and sprint outside, behind the house, across the road to the meadow. 3:24 a.m. i sit down in the faintly damp grass, hugging my knees to my chest. exhale. inhale. let myself be held in each moment. suddenly the weight of the world crushing my shoulders. the tears are falling freely now.

footsteps behind me but i don't move as you sit down next to me. begin picking at the grass. hesitantly wrap your arm around my shoulders and pull me close. "hey. it's going to be okay. don't give up on me now."

i inhale sharply, swiping at the tears marring my swollen cheeks.

"what are you doing here?"

"i love you." a beat. "i loved you since the first moment that you flashed me that smile, and every moment following."

"no," i whisper.

"what?"

"no. you can't be here right now. don't let me ruin this before it even starts. i don't want you to see me like this."

you chuckle softly. "i want to see you like this. i want to see the real you, facades long forgotten and not caring about what i think of you. 'i love you' doesn't mean that i want you when you're dressed up and smiling, it means that i want you when you're lost and searching, when your mascara smears and the voices in your head are screaming too loudly. i want to love you through the tears and the depressed thoughts. and i want you to let me love you even when you don't feel lovable."

i turn away, but you tug at my chin until i'm looking at you again. you use the sleeve of your sweatshirt to dry the rest of my tears.

"let me love you."

it's the look in your eyes that convinces me.

your hand finds the nape of my neck and you're pulling me into the security that your touch promises. you kiss my forehead, holding your lips there until you know i'm at peace.

i close my eyes and exhale again.

whether it's mere seconds or an eternity, i'm disappointed when you finally pull away. but then you're pressing your lips to my neck and i gasp.

"is this okay?" you ask.

i nod aggressively, not trusting my words.

you trace my neck, my jaw, my temple, until i finally tuck my fingers behind your neck and pull your lips to mine. you taste like bittersweet memories and suppressed wanting, and i want nothing more than to make this moment last forever.

your hands find my waist and you pull me down in the grass next to you as a car rushes by. the headlights fade and we burst out laughing.

and then we're kissing again, and there's only you and me and the infinite array of stars above us.