you can jump out of an airplane but
be too scared to ask your waitress
for ketchup.there is no method to the madness
we are.but i know you will make room
in your heart for the things
you are on fire for, because
those are what keep you living.
when you want something badly enough,
you will face your fears for it.
i think we forget that love is a dynamic thing.
love is alive.
it changes.
it crescendos.
it ebbs and flows.you can fall in love with the same person for
a million different reasons and
in a million different ways,
multiple times a day.you can love them for things
they’ve done in the past and
who they have become.you can fall out of love,
too.if you find yourself only loving the past version of that person;
if you do not fall in love with that person daily,
that love is growing stale.because love is only truly alive
in the present.love that person for who they are right now,
not for anything they did in the past nor for
anything they promise for the future.love can only grow in the present.
it was my first word
at thirteen months old
and my first word to you when
i met you on the train to Zurich.
do you remember? we huddled
next to each other in our seats
and with warm breath whispered
about our dreams
while the rain hit the windows.
this was your seventh stop
on a journey to see the world,
i was looking for a corner to call home.
excitement numbed our lips, teeth
hit teeth and
we laughed
bumping noses
warm breath
warm breath and
you could almost feel the magnetic
field around us in
that little corner of the world as
it rolled past in our windows.
i’m starting to freeze.
has the fire in your heart gone?
you can’t keep me warm.
inhale. exhale.
inhale oxygen. exhale carbon dioxide.
inhale oxygen exhale carbon dioxide.
inhale oxygen inhale carbon dioxide exhale oxygen inhale carbon dioxide inhale
oxygen exhale carbon dioxide exhale oxygen exhale carbon dioxide inhale carbon dioxide inhale oxygen inhale
carbon dioxide exhale
oxygen exhale
carbon dioxide inhale oxygen
exhale carbon dioxide exhale oxygen.
with her, it’s like art.
it’s wanting to know
every single detail about her
down to what she tastes like,
down to what she sounds like
when she’s begging.
down to her dirty little secrets.
down to the parts of herself
one can only uncover beneath the
sheets.
i found you
three days after you died.
i walked into your office and
found you hunched over your desk,
your face deteriorating
into your coffee mug.i picked you up and threw you
over my shoulder.
your knuckles dragged on the sidewalk
the entire walk home.we wrapped you
in all your favorite scarves and
put you in a coffin
filled with salt-water taffy.
while they sang ‘der voghormia,’ i growled,
and the sky echoed me.i growled
at your scarves and your
salt-water taffy and your
face. for the first time
in years, you looked peaceful.
i growled and growled until they
started shoveling the dirt in.the sky boomed on the drive home.
i saw your face in the windshield,
contorted into a sneer, your eyes
glazed over, your nostrils flared.your face in the ground,
so pale, so silent, so peaceful.
so peaceful.
Who I am now is neither who I used to be nor who I’ll always be.
i never hear the ocean
when i put shells to
my ear. instead, i hear
His heavy breathing
from behind as
He pushes me on my bed.
on my disney princess sheets.
instead, i hear the sound
of the washing machine, loaded
with those sheets. those
bloody sheets.
instead, i hear Him
in every creak and groan in
every corner of the house,
each gust of wind that blows
when I walk home alone, every
breath I took after He broke me:
too heavy, too shallow.
hissing and foaming.
you were the first person
i ever tried to convince myself
i did not love.
you were the first time
i denied the lava in my stomach.you were perfect for me.
there was nothing about us
that didn’t make sense,
and yet i turned away.for some reason,
i have such good timing
but such bad luck, and so
i always end up in the
arms of the wrong people.
i always end up
alone again.even when i feel alone,
you are there to console me.
and i have finally realized that
if i were with you, you probably
wouldn’t have to be consoling me.
with you, i would be happy.
and that scares me.
Silenticel 