i know you love me,
but it doesn’t make me
feel less alone

sometimes i want to ask you if
you’ve ever been
swallowed whole by something
entirely separate from yourself 
but something you know
was born inside you

fermenting in the warm, dark
parts
expanding & shrinking
breathing
feeding
off of words & feelings
you don’t have names or reasons for

sometimes i want to ask you
if there are parts of yourself
you’re not sure you can
control

but 

when i look in your eyes
unwavering
like nothing has ever made you
fear
your own mind

i know you love me,

i know you will say
no.

alone // a.s.m

i call you,
i call you & i tell you
my body has been shaking today 
uncontrollably 
like from my core
radiating outward to my
fingertips to my thighs to my toes

i am vibrating
like everything within me is vibrating
& i feel it in my mind, too 
& you say “embrace it" 
& i laugh 

& i cry
at the evening news &
that video of quintuplets
embracing
each other on the kitchen floor 
so full of love 
without language 
without knowledge
of this world

when i shake 
my mind leaves me 
& i wonder where it goes
when it goes
 
if i’m visiting 
friends in other planes
with names i don’t know 
who i don’t remember when i come back, 

when i come back to you & you
tell me to embrace it 
embrace crying
embrace screaming beneath my bathwater
embrace being overwhelmed & not really
understanding
things i tell myself i need to understand 
to be human 
but i guess that’s not true 

because what do those babies 
know? nothing, really 
& they’re human & they love 
& they are loved 
& i’m a little more
conscious 
of should be’s &
should not’s & should have’s 
but maybe this is really 
a beginning.

untitled // a.s.m

19 hours inside these yellow walls
and i can feel everything i had left
leave me

mom’s cheeks are sunken and sickly
she asks me if i know how much
a baggie costs; did she give you
too much money for gas?  

and you,
you are angry
and you scare the shit out of me.
i’m scared
i’m going to hate you, too.

we are out shopping and
mom tells me she found
a needle in your desk drawer
as we pick out strawberries.

i don’t know how to reach you.
when you shut your bedroom door
you shut me out, too
sometimes i fear your limbs
will grow into your bedsheets. 

i love you, don’t you understand
i love you?

i flip through the channels at 2 am 
and can’t watch cartoons even 
though all i want is to laugh
because i know i will
cry instead 

and i’m sorry, i’m so
sorry i don’t understand

how we can be from the same womb,
the same hands holding ours
as we crossed the street,
the same health ed class, the
same high school, the
same town, two different
worlds.

it is the hardest thing to miss someone
who is still right in front of me.

2 worlds // a.s.m

there’s something to be said
for banging pots and pans
at two on a Tuesday
morning, the
dissonance of existence sounding
like gongs in the kitchen

and our roommates 
groan and beg
us to go
back to bed because 
they can’t hear 
our harmonies.

For Zach // a.s.m

i reside in
what i don’t own
what isn’t home
what isn’t mine anymore. 
i reach for hands
i once found shelter in,
i slip on my feet and
scrape the bottom of this
circulating stream.
i once sought structure
in the scattered.
i’m carried off
to go somewhere
i do not know
that isn’t mine
that isn’t home.

planktonic // a.s.m  (via wingedpiglets)

dear little egg, you’re
going to open your eyes
for the first time in a white
room, not knowing that 
my childhood home is now
underwater. and when 
you are older, i will let
you run in the back yard
without shoes on, but
you will never know the comfort
of sinking into healthy
soil. you will never understand
what it means to make a mark on
the earth that does not hurt
it. 
seven years’ worth of leaves
will still be decaying, and 
i will not know how to explain 
where they came from. 
i will not know how to explain
to you that other beings used to
live here, too, or
that there was once another planet
underneath a green canopy and
in autumn, the skies would 
bathe in fire.

i hope we’ll be living with windmills // a.s.m (via wingedpiglets)