I.
maybe we could have been happy

II.
if we had given it a chance

III.
if you had tried, and I had let you

IV.
I'm going to blame myself

V.
but you already knew that

maybe it's the staccato of your fingers drumming on my knuckles maybe it's the way you tell me it's what you want too
maybe it's how a palm is an offering or a suggestion always answered in kind
maybe it's how your voice gets as soft as your hands when you hold both of mine
maybe it's when you laugh at me for reaching for your hand before doing the same
maybe that's why it's so safe

you kept me alive
i think
i think that was living
there was breathing, but there was no hope
and i really can’t blame you for any of this

but you can’t blame me for not wanting a future with you,
when you never gave me a future in the first place

and i can’t hate you, or forget you
i can’t be your stranger, i can’t be your regret
but maybe i already am

i don’t know if i love you
i know this is all i had, but nothing i want, so i why can’t i let go?
i’m beginning to think i trust you,

i thought if love meant trust, then trust meant love
but now,
i trust you not to worry about me
i trust you not to question me, not to understand me
i could tell you anything,
just because you wouldn’t care

i trust you,
i feel like,
one trusts a stranger

I.
because I've never loved myself but I'm starting to, with you

II.
because I've never known who I really am and I hated that, hated myself,
there was always a pause, always something held back or misspoken, insufficiently explained
because I was never safe and I was never fully understood, and there was always something lost in translation

III.
but I've always hated that person, who hid his stutter, who spoke slowly so as not to let slip mistakes from his words and thoughts, never mention the things he really cares about because then,

IV.
well he would probably talk to fast and he would probably stutter he'd probably speak so fast and with so much excitement that he'd forget to apologize until he'd remembered no one cared, no one wanted to hear, and he'd slow down and regret so much, hate himself so much for bringing this upon himself

V.
except with you,
I talk about everything, and everything I care about,
and I'm not afraid of talking fast,
or tripping over words,
because I know you won't leave me if I fall, because you've done it so many times
because you just laugh and pick me up again and again and hold my hand and
you laugh like its funny
like its not ridiculous
like you can't even imagine wanting me to stop every time I trip
like you just want me to keep going and you'll help and
I love the person I am when I'm holding your hand

I.
like,
a thrill, unfamiliar
like I've wanted and never had, never could bear

II.
as if,
made to fit, surprisingly easy
as if it's what I needed,
and never expected

I.
you don't know who this person is,
what do they want?

II.
try to find empowerment here, find only confusion, find only unfamiliar memories, find only resistance

III.
maybe if you can make it poetry you won't throw up

IV.
sometimes you cry and you don't know why, sometimes you feel sick and you know why, sometimes you want to die and you don't know why you don't,

V. so you do

blue dress- it is soft, it shapes around your chest like it's supposed to be there, and you begin shaking with no end in sight

white feather earrings- your face is softened and you remember you don't want to be soft

blue beaded earrings- they match your dress and your dress makes you want to die

bird earrings- they are small and bright and you curl up on the floor and wonder which parts of you are real

moon and star earrings- they are small and pale and no one but you can ever see

sun earrings- you shiver and don't think anything

blue crystal earrings- they are the strongest form of feminine you have ever had, and you remember buying these from a street vendor, holding them like some strong piece of the world belonged to you

peace symbol earrings- they are small but familiar enough to be recognized and you feel sick in your throat, your face, every part of you that accepted peace is aching, you want to tear it out

blue stones and dangling silver hoops- these make you look like a woman, which is a familiar future you have been told of, and you realize just because you understand it doesn't mean you want it

dangling iridescent gems- these make you look like a girl, she would love them on you, and you decide to give them to her before you remember she's changed, now you don't know what to do with them

warm colored striped dress- it shows all your bones and still makes you look so soft, you are so, so cold

black feather earrings- these feel like how you used to try to be strong femininely, both of those at the same time, and you tore yourself apart for years not understanding why it was so hard, blaming yourself

black beaded earrings- these make you look like femininity comes easily to you, as you wish it didn't, these seem to belong, as you wish they wouldn't, and these are so heavy, just like everything about this, you are still shaking

silver rose studs- these are small, indistinct, you remember being familiar with this small amount of femininity you thought was necessary, and you twitch violently, something itches, you are hunched

black pants, shirt, jacket- you have a body, in the most abstract sense, and now no reasonable person could call it what they wanted

spider stud- it's small, looks metallic, and delicate yet menacing, like you never could be