i saw Brain vs. Heart
  and i laughed helplessly
because Heart got put in a cage
   and i can't help wishing
   i could do that to myself,
  let's be realistic
  it was too late
   the first time our eyes met.


Inner Life

i live so much
   in my own head
  having conversations, imagining interactions
it's safer here, pleasanter
  than reality
though i'm entirely aware
  that what lives inside my head
    bears only a passing resemblance
  to reality
   and nothing, no matter what i feel
      means anything


Word porn

If i could paint your body
  with my words
  You would never believe
 you were unattractive.
If i could show you the lines
  of shivering touch
    where your lips and mine met
  The trails your mouth left
   on my skin
 and mine on yours,
  the way my abdomen still clenches
  at the thought of your
       hands buried in my hair
   and how soft your skin,
   if my hands drew my care
     on your chest and arms and ass

If your touch traced
    lines of light across my body
and that feather-soft brush
  across my cheek and forehead
   how can i then claim
   i'm not beautiful?

If we could draw the lines of loving
   on those we've touched
 Would anyone ever think
   they were unattractive?


For David

i miss your face
  and eyes
The way your hands reached
 for me even when
  you weren't looking at me
   And i love you.
 i miss the rambling conversations
  about everything,
   From things in our past
   to Star Wars and whether
  we would ever make it
to other planets
  And i love you.
i miss your smile
  and shoulders
  and how you knew
  every single time
 i was bullshitting
  And i love you.
i miss the random calls
  And i miss the questions about girlfriends
  and the texts that came through
  hours later,
   and i missed every clue
    i should have seen
And i'm so, so sorry



There are the days you're fine
  cheerful, even
  capable, able to do everything that needs doing
And then there are the days you're not.
  The days you're so
of fighting yourself.
 So tired of forcing yourself out of bed
 of reminding yourself you're loved
   even when they're not reminding you
 of fighting the urge to just
  let everything go
   and end this damn farce.
Tired of trying
  tired of the replacement
  tired of not smoking
  tired of caring
  tired of not finding refuge in pain.
Tired of telling yourself you're good enough,
   a good girl
  because no one else is.
Tired of the whole goddamn thing.
Utterly finished
  with the foolish hopes
you know will never happen
And exhausted by the voice
  in the back of your brain
That says "you could stop if you wanted.
   You could be fine
       if you wanted."
Because you know it's
   all a damn lie
but you can't help
  feeling that the damn voice
  is right.



i've always described myself
  as a wealth of contradictions -
i hold back
  don't make many connections
 but i see the hidden pains,
   the emotions layered in protective blocks
the things people share with
   almost no one.
i can be logical and adult
   or silly and childish
Eternally hopeful
  and buried in despair and worst-case scenarios.
i've always had the urge
  to reach out to that hidden pain
   peel back the layers
 and apply love and comfort
  to those wounds i see
so when i reach
   it's because i see something
      that needs reaching to
And because i've allowed that person
   to somehow write their name
    on my heart
and often i frighten people
  because i see clearly
 and sometimes say nothing
   because sometimes i feel
 that the best possible response
   is touch, loving closeness
   rather than words.
Ironic, that, considering that words
flowed to me from my parents
  without pause
from the time i was born.
i can be so thorny
  especially when afraid
bratty or bitchy or too demanding
  or i can be quiet and patient and understanding
no matter what happens,
  no matter what walls are temporarily erected.
i overflow with love
   or sometimes rage
and i don't need anyone.
  i need those i care for desperately
and i'm fine alone
  or horribly lonely in a crowd.
i want no touch
  please cuddle me
and i want no contact.
  Please please please
     tell me i'm a good girl.
 Let me know i'm cared for.
Let me know i'm seen clearly
  and loved anyway.
Or because of my cracks and breaks
  and the ugly spots in my soul.
Because i love when i see those cracks
   and not before.
They say love is blind - if it is,
   then i've never truly loved
 because it's in the cracks and breaks
   and ugly spots
i see the most beauty.


Words Unspoken

i wanted to say
  i always need you
but how do i say that without terrifying
  i wanted to say
   you reaching out
  feels like a hug,
  like you wrapped me up
and i love that
  i wanted to say
 i was so honored you trusted me
  and you can still trust
 because i'm not walking away
because whatever this is
it belongs
  and i listen to that still, small voice
   way away inside my head
 and it says trust.

Nowhere at all

The part of me
   inclined to the worst case
   because hope hurts so fucking much
   i see all the "nopes," the "can't"s, the never works.
That back part of me
   the unquenchable child
   the hopeful one
    the one who never shuts
no matter what
 no matter how badly things are going
  or what's been said to quench hope
All she sees is the looks
   the touches
  the pet names
the caring.
And all she can feel is hope.


You care
  i feel it in your hands
   on my body,
 Your constant finding me
   the way you see any time
    i've gone away mentally.
You don't care
   i feel it in your words
   your refusal to see me
 Your withdrawal
   from the closeness we shared
  for five short months
You care
   i see it in your eyes,
  in the way you reach out
   any time i hurt,
 in your smiles and in the way
 you try to make me laugh.
 So for now
   just for now
    i'm sitting in a corner
covering my confusion up
  trying not to show hurt or anything else
 because gods forbid i have feelings
   and waiting to see.
   to hear
to speak
   to feel
because sometimes
   waiting is all i can do.


i suppose
  one reason i'm healing
is that i was ready for that split
    six months before it happened.
Not consciously
   but part of me knew already
    that the things he said and did
 were at direct odds with each other
   and that same still, small part of me
 that knows you care
knew he gave no shits,
  that his anger at my lack of trust
    was because he was lying
 that this was over
  and it was past time
to take off the collar.
  It just took six months
    for my conscious mind
 to catch up.
Hell, some days i still miss it
  his hand in my hair
   collar on my neck
  "Good girl" on his lips
but what i miss
  isn't what was
but what appeared to be
  before it all came out.