Body to become a lantern,
to once again be that glowing thing,
that glowing girl again.
Body of a girl
with the sun under her skin.
Body of a fire sign,
flames rekindling.

Body holding heart
like a lifeline,
not putting pen to paper
to mimic razor on skin,
not like with him.

Body with a heart
that still loves you
possibly eternally,
some way,
hopefully never hatefully.

Body with eyes like waterfalls,
breathtaking and perpetually
Body with a writhing soul
that still cries for you.

Body with arms that
become stuck hinges,
with a mouth
that has no target
for kisses.
Body of a girl who

Body of a girl
who didn’t break,
who won’t break,
who’s realizing
with both head
and heart,
when you didn’t fight
to keep her,
when you changed your
stupid social media statuses
the same day.

Body, home to flickering candle,
to healing warrior,
to resting phoenix.
Body of a girl,
who stopped giving,
when all you did was take.

On Days like Today 

Tell her:I will hold you 

until the sun falls out of the sky.

I know your soul

is only comfortable 

in the darkness and I am

okay with perpetual night.
I will love you

even if we don’t make light.

I will love you

even if I can’t see the sparks

I will love you

in the endless blackness

that I’m willing to risk

for just a moment 

where your life and mine

I will love you


even if it means I can only parade you

under moon shine.

In a Moment

I realize now
why I teared up in class,
why my professor stopped her lecture
to ask if was I alright.
And I wasn’t;
but you know I lied, right?

It was the thought of sitting in a car
with 4 pouring out my heart
about something I couldn’t explain
sharing a moment to be thrilled
I was creating something
bigger than me,
some tragedy that wasn’t
bad love or
crap poetry.

It was 4.
It has been 4 for a while now
and believing that
he could lie so easily
about having sex with me,
to avoid having sex with her,

It was learning that
someone I considered my best friend,
knew the truth,
and didn’t consult me,
didn’t defend me,
took the final nail
to the coffin of our
once friendship and
beat it in indefinitely.

So YOU know
a lot about pain, right?
So I know a lot
about heartache,
about dreams of you,
about journaling and not being able
to write your name.

But in that moment,
on Tuesday,
thinking of a conversation I had
with a boy in his car,
gushing about getting my mentor,
having him know how much those 8000
words mean to me,
I didn’t know who to believe.

In that moment,
for the first time, in a long time
I felt my heartbreak,
and it had nothing to do with a boy
leaving me.


-that I might get over three years ago; wrong time, right place 

-that I could easily get over the memory

-that I’d stop thinking “what if” when you’ve forgotten about me

-to not bruise so quickly

-to be taken care OF

-to have a mutual, reciprocated same kind of love

-that I didn’t get attached so easily

-for arms that are long enough to wrap around me

-for these arms to stay

-for none of the people hinted at in this poem to be the ones that take away the aches

Sunlight Sedation

It is the way
you kissed my palms
like they had been holding
all of your oxygen
for the last two months;
pulling up the hem of my T-shirt
and reminding my stomach
with your mouth
how worthy it is
of worship,
of mercy.

You will never be
a new religion to me:
but rather a louder way to love.
You will be my reminder
of daily grace.

Because as your lips met my skin,
my eyes were wrinkling themselves
into two old maids
laughing in rockers
on the front porch of
their country house in the summer.
Two windows
squinted like they were staring
at the sun.,
not caring if they were blinded
in happiness.

Like love never left;
like the splinters of hurt and
regret remained in my heart
only so
when the time was right,
I could re-make them into a door jam.

It’s like saying your name,
missing how much
my lips
pursed at the “shh”,
and now, not wanting
to be quiet
about this.

Bless this Reptilian Skin

“In seven years,
 you will not exist on my body.
Bless this reptilian skin.
Bless each ash stuck
to the feathers of this woman.

I will not slander your name,
but in seven years time
someone will shake me
of the phrases 
you caged me in.
In seven years time,
I will have said my own name
so many times,
that I won’t remember the way
your mouth formed around it.

In seven years time,
I will forgive my nakedness.
In seven years time,
the only thing worthy
of being near my lips
will be Chapstick.

In seven years time,
you will no longer
on this skin.
In seven years time,
through God’s grace,
I will be my own