The reality of this situation is:
   there is nowhere for any of this
   emotion to go, and you
   are gonna rend your heart
    on the rocks of "What if."

  But goddammit, do those
   "what if"s feel good.

   Twining yourself into arms in thought,
    if not in reality,
    kneeling and breathing and thinking and

      what if
   that hand were on your neck
    that knife were at your throat
   that voice were whispering
         into your ear

  what if
     those arms were holding
     lips touching
        bodies twining

   you could kneel and know
     it was safe to give



Don't wish,
    don't think too far
  don't do it

 Do not open that door,
    the what ifs, beyond
  what you've already seen

Do not mistake this for anything
   but what it is -
    moments in time, nothing
  that can ever be.

  Don't wish


Bad Days

It's often on the worst days
   the ones where something catches me
   completely off-guard,
   when my brain freezes
    and then explodes in panic
  that i see the clearest.

 Those days,
   the ones i start spiraling
     out of the carefully
   the ones you catch
      when i reach out
  the days that
   i wind up
    with gratitude,
   limp with happiness
     feeling too needy for words,
    but so much calmer

   those are the days i see
    i am not a burden
        i am not too much,
   that it's okay
    for me to need support
    and that you don't resent
     my asking,
    that there are people out there
    who will meet my pleas
    for reassurance
     with care,
    with "we're here"
   with love.

The reminders that
   i don't have to bury myself
    in fear and doubt.

  And that stays
   on the days i want to hide,
   reminding me
   that the depression and anxiety
       that i'm a whole human being,
   and i am allowed
  to need you.


Lessons Learned

   complete alone,
  but happy with
     afraid, but constantly
   hedged about with protections
  emotionally motivated
   unwilling to talk/unable to shut
the owner of a mask that 90%
   of the people i meet
   will never
    past -
  and if you think you've seen
  behind the mask,
   trust me:
   unless you have seen me
  undone by emotion,
      held me
   while i dissolved in tears
   or in the aftermath
   of a panic attack
  or had
  a three am conversation
   about things in the center
   of both our beings,

i am
allowed to make my own choices
   about who i let in
i am
   too quick to accept guilt
    for denying the fantasies of strangers
   and i need to remember
     that while i am responsible
    for being honest
    and true to myself in my interactions
   with others,
  for making sure fantasies
   and reality
   ever match up.
i am
  quick to love
   and slow to let go,
   unable to forget
 but quick to forgive
and understand
   my forgiveness is for you
  but also
  for myself,
   because i refuse to hate
  no matter what is done.
i am
  a service-oriented
  and i am the only one
 who decides
 to whom
   i submit.
i am


Sex sex sex


i so often
   stand aloof,
  closed off, turned away
  because once i let you in,
  once we've met
  in that intimacy,
  the craving becomes a thing
  so strong
  the smell of your skin
     has me reacting,
  much less a casual touch
  or deliberate one; i
  can only let so many
  or i might
   explode with longing:

   Let me learn you
  with hands and lips and tongue,
  run your hands over
  of my body;
  let me find the places
   that bring gasps
   or moans,
  lose myself in you
   memorize your taste and smell.
  Find out
   what barely grazing my skin
  with your fingertips
  looks like under lamplight,
   day, and twilight casts,
how it makes me writhe,
  let my lips speak
  secrets on your skin -
Can we just
  be lost together
  buried in each other's flesh
  for a little while?



Since childhood
   she has learned
  that wishes, spoken aloud,
   can be twisted
  brought to life in horribly unexpected ways
   A child snatched by goblins,
    hearts ripped out
      or skin torn off,
  people twisted into
   caricatures of themselves
    by helpless, obsessive love wishes
   So she locks her wishes down
     keeps them behind her lips,
      inside her skull,
   someplace safe
     and warm
    and so private
  no one will ever, ever hear
    and twist
what she wants
   into some fucked up version
   of reality.


Why are we so gentle on those
   surrounding us
    and so hard on ourselves?

  Why express loathing, over and over,
      of the things we despise in ourselves
     the "weaknesses" or "flaws"
when we can see the beauty of them
   in those we care for?

  i tell my friends
    over and over
   they are lovely, wonderful, gorgeous,
   good enough
     for anyone or anything
  while fighting my own feeling
    that i must ask permission
   for everything -
    to talk,
   to exist,
    to take up space
      in others' lives
   to BE

i tell them
   "pay attention to your limits"
  while fighting my own
    until i force panic attacks,
    unraveling all the triggers
 because i want to be DONE.
   No more fragility
  no more feeling of being pathetic,
   ignored and left behind.

i tell them
  "you are never a burden,"
  "anything you want or need
    that i am capable of,
      just ask me"
"you don't have to isolate yourself"

while shutting myself down,
   feeling that if i reach out,
     if i expect attention from anyone
   a burden.

And while i know, logically,
   that i am not a burden,
    not pathetic or weak
      or a waste of space
   or resented for reaching out,
    burrowing into one's own head
   is so much harder
     than saying it to someone else.