But if it’s frozen and full of tar, it can never break

When your eyes freeze and turn to ice
I need to run or
I am impaled by your words
like darts—the poison
seeps into my blood stream and
I carry the venom
inside me until it claws at me
from inside my veins, restless
to get out.

So much
venom thickens my blood to tar and
fills the cracks of my heart
with lead,
and the only way to forgive myself for
being cold enough to freeze you, too, is
to let it out.

So when they scratch
and wriggle in my veins,
I cut them loose and
watch the black venom 
drip out. 

Two In One

I knew the lonely parts of your heart. 
They were my campgrounds
when my walls began to burn and
the ash and smoke threatened
to suffocate me beneath my
crumbling ribcage. 

When it was winter in my heart, 
and my veins became 
frozen red rivers, 
you always had a fire going
in yours. 
I would huddle inside the 
crevices between
your atriums and swim in your
bloodstream until I, too, was red
underneath your skin. 

I Tried Not To Sink, But I Ended Up Drowning

Saying I love you was never a question.
It was the answer
to the way your fingers fit perfectly
between mine.

It was the pause where I knew
it belonged
every time we said goodbye.

It was the way I laughed
instead of rolling my eyes
when you’d fart under the covers, and
the way doing the dishes together was just as fun
as the actual party.

I love you.

It would run out of my mouth
without me thinking,
just like love is.

Without thinking.

Without blinking.

Without sinking.