Unlearn

Leaking emotional energy, 
my internal stillness crushed 
under an exoskeleton, 
soft underbelly no longer
exposed to predators, 
hidden from even myself.

When it all started eroding,
I still had to be there for others. 
The weight of it cause a mudslide, 
everything became murky. 
Relationships crumbled and people
who leaned on me too heavily 
lost their sure footing. 

But time passes more slowly for me, 
I'm tending to my own wounds. 
Reclaiming the earth and the sun,
the flowers as they once were,
sharing this gift with others again. 

As I traveled around the world, 
I cried, I was scared of loss and 
distance and change and 
wandering until my feet bleed.
But I'm not built for the fashion 
of that coat designed by 
someone else, layered on me 
without my own consent. 
It does not suit me, is not mine 
to wear or to gift to anyone else. 
I'm stripping it of its parts, thanking 
it for how it sought to protect me, 
opting to cremate the rest.

Security, Survival

I'll build roots within

for I am the surest thing

I can ever know.

Hallmark

Your birth, a present;
your presence, a gift to me. 
Happy birthday, friend. 

Chronic

"Por faaaa"

Babe,
Baby,
I need you to know
some thoughts are just for me. 

I'll ask for your patience,
your forgiveness
your understanding, 
but I'll demand safety.
I'll skip ahead of you sometimes, 
but I'll always turn back. 

"¿Adonde vas?"

Voy a
the cool tile floor of the bathroom
sometimes I just.can't.breathe.
the crook of your arm
so I can map the curves of you,
memorize the buttons that drive you crazy
around, abroad, anywhere...
the hint of a cage terrifies me. 

"How was cenar"

Lonely, filling, over done
it tried to be home, but
it was nothing I recognized
it tried to be home, but
it was a glass house and 
I spent my time peering in 
knowing without a doubt I wanted you.

"I appreciate you"

When you break my heart
when I shatter at the end 
of this free fall we've embarked on
will you still speak then?
join forces with the silence?
These syllables, I roll them 
in my palms, over my tongue, 
in laps around and around and

I just need you to know
some thoughts 
~ fuck these thoughts ~
are for me.

Commitment

I'll sculpt you a world
out of gossamer words but... 
would you explore it. 

Falling

I watch the leaves turn 
from green to yellow and red, 
what a sight to see.

Patience

Every story is a snapshot
of a mesmerizing mosaic. 
I'm trying my best to 
share tiles and panoramas alike. 

Our histories serve as foundations, 
serve as the context behind 
this trigger, or that sore spot, 
or any of many particular flaws. 
"I'll show you mine if you show me yours,"
childish, timeless wisdom... who knew
sing-song exchanges would serve as practice 
for revealing, accepting, making space for 
scars, fears, joys, strengths, passions, realities...

The sight of you, and my god is it a view, 
has me shedding layers, arching my back. 
But I never feel my nakedness, just heat - 
a desire to explore every inch of you. 
It's the push and pull of your requests
for thoughts, stories, odds and ends tiles
that leaves me feeling vulnerable. 
You can feast on my lips, my curves, 
eyes that change like seasons as I 
rotate around your body, grind against 
the length of you. 

Over time you'll gain access to, 
bear witness to, hold in your hands
the parts of me not of flesh and bone, 
but instead
my mosaic.

Flashlight

When I was a child, 
I read by the light of the moon. 
In the safety of darkness, 
I was a double agent, a detective, 
a superhero of my own making. 
Cast in starlight, no destination
was too far, no storyline or reality
too improbable. 
In the light of day, I'm nervous, 
unsure of my footing, questioning
where all of this leads. 
Will the next chapter begin
how I wish it will, know it could?
Cast in starlight, no destination
is too far, no storyline or reality
too improbable.
In the darkness of the night, I'm safe,
calm and steady, sure
of where I want all of this to lead.

But it's so much fun though.

You ask for my words,
but sometimes I think in colors.
Lavender, forest green, navy

when I write, I put heart to paper.

But it's so much fun though?

You ask for my words,
my life blood, my shield, my weapon

My silence is my last wall, my last 
protective measure before they 
twist and tumble and turn and 
oh god now they won't stop shit 
I watch them twirl in front of me

I've never seen a ballet, but my words
are prima donnas, they command

attention.

I've never been a painter, but I'll 

make you cry, make you feel 

the threads of the world.

I've never been a guitarist, but listen

you ask for my words, and I'll sing. 

One out of every six.

I almost threw up
nerves gripped around my throat for
my own silent screams.

You make me feel.

in the beginning there was lavender 

soft
sweet
intoxicating

when you told me your wrist hurt I 

didn't believe you
reached out
felt the heat of your skin

I couldn't look you in the eyes when 

I described my childhood 
yearned for a ghost
you told me I'm gorgeous

it was like
it was like spring rain
the glow of a firefly 

it was quiet
it was quiet and still 
it was quiet and still and soothing

I like to play with
my words before I eat them 
and here I am

unfinished, unsure, unclear

unable to set heart to paper

Anxiety, Defined

A two sided mask
behind veils of "I'm sorry."
Joy, pain, all the same. 

Lilith

Friendships like tendrils,⁣
caresses like crushed velvet-
hello Chicago.