You always used to say if something was meant to be it would happen, and yet I can’t help but wonder if perhaps sometimes we are meant to fight for things to happen.
I didn’t fall for you. You tripped me.
i don’t want to lose this
but don’t know what to say
to make you believe that
i want you
to stay.
do not ignore what
little love is given to you for free, my
dear.
you can’t just
store me in your kitchen pantry
with your non-perishables.
i am flesh and hollow bone and
i am rotting from the inside out.
if you do not make use of me soon,
i will be gone from here: when the wind blows
through your open windows, i will be
dust on another man’s bookshelf.
i am i am i am
nothing
yet absolutely everything.
i am my decomposing
grandmother, six feet under Michigan soil.
i am being rejected from thirteen jobs before
falling in love with the one i have.
i am the insecurity and self-hatred
i have shed like a snakeskin,
insatiable wanderlust, and
falling asleep early on a Friday night–
trying to write poetry with invisible ink
on the apartment walls in hopes that the next person
who runs their fingers on them will carry
a small piece of me with them.
i am both my aunts and my mother,
so much history for a soul
that feels much too small for its body.
i am struggling with existence these days
unsure if it’s a game or
a dream, or something in between.
you can change your hair and change your eyes
but your outer shell’s just a disguise
that’s soft to touch but hard to break through,
does anybody really know you?
When I tell you I love you,
I don’t just mean how
I love the brilliant green of your eyes or
your contagious, body-shaking laughter or
the way you kiss me.
I mean I love
the face you make before you sneeze
and the way your eyebrows furrow
when you’re deep in thought
and the way your ears get
bright red when you’re angry.
When I say
I love you
I mean that
I love you and
all of the parts of you that make you
exactly who you are.
I’ve always had strong sea legs and
a need for perpetual motion.
When I was young I’d stand at the edge
of my father’s boat
and let the waves sway me as they
kissed the hull. The ocean’s child,
she’d rock me to sleep
with sea foam kisses and promises
of serenity.And when I walked
on the solid ground that
nailed my feet into this planet like a crucifix,
I’d hear no promises of the ocean’s serenity.
I’d put my ear to sea shells just to hear her
whispers, but
I could no longer fall asleep at night, no
matter how much
I rocked myself to and fro.But last night, as I lay
my ear to your chest, I heard
promises of peace
in the ebb and flow of
your breath. I saw the calm to come
after the storm I have become, and I think
I’ve been waiting my whole life for the ocean
to find me through you.
The way you hold me and rock me like
the waves do;
after years of insomnia, I finally fell asleep.
If you find someone who makes you believe in love, never let them go.
I’ve heard that quote that says ‘do one thing every day that scares you.’ But what if every day is a nightmare that I’m not quite sure how to navigate? What if every day in itself terrifies me? What then?
Silenticel 