It is the dark
and I force us to have a heart-to-heart
because there is something about nightfall
that makes my mouth
want to spill like a sieve
and your lips have no intention
of becoming a dam
to stop me.

It is the dark
and I am telling you about
how I might creep you out
and you bled me dry
and I had nothing
after  you had
up and left.
And I don’t expect you to apologize for this.
And you don’t.

But when I tell you
I know you won’t hurt me,
you agree.
And it’s that small reassurance.
that I haven’t been lying when I told others this,
that unleashes every hold on me
that believes I have to be my
caged self in front of you

so I come pouring forth,
rushing river,
and you take me in stride,
silent like every rock
that splits the water

and I didn’t get a chance to tell you
but I thank you for it,
I love you for it.

It is the dark,
and, sitting next to you,
I am who I am,
nothing more
nothing less
and I am content.


I’m sorry it’s been so long 

I’m sitting on my new couch, about to watch Glee,

maybe nap, who knows,

and I am at peace and I’m comfortable and my feet aren’t cold.

I know God’s got my life under control.

I’m blessed to understand that being alone is an okay thing,

that this time I am alone,

and I’m still happy.

I’m blessed to be able to realize this is what it feels like to actually be happy.


He says
he likes it best
when my hair is messy.
When it’s pulled back from my face
in a bun,
my cheeks red and
my brow glistening.

He says
he likes it best
when my eyes are shimmering.
When they scan pages
of a book,
I haven’t read and
squint with questioning.

He says
he likes it best
when my lips are parting.
When my teeth bite
at the edge;
my eyes flick up
to meet his.

He says
he likes it best
when I am tired and sweating.
When I climb onto his bed and
rest my head.
His heart pounds and
I fall asleep.

He says
he loves me best
when I am in sync with his breathing.
When my eyes are dimming and
becoming heavy-lidded,
his pulse is harmonizing
and I’m smiling.