Love scares me
You reveal parts of me that recklessly try to hide in plain sight
But you are so soft
Pure laughter from your lips
Your eyes forgive my mistakes so easily
I don’t know how to hide

Life is sweeter with you
Like the sweetness you taste from honey
In the warmest and richest way possible
Nourishment for the soul
Unlike the sweetness from plain sugar
Forcefully sweet and cold
An antidote rather than an elixir

Your words caress me
Like the wind blowing the washed clothes dry
Sunlight dripping in every thread woven
The faint scent of detergent smiling
Unlike the loud laundry dryers
Buzzing with wrath and fury
Demanding the water to vanish at once


I like your smile that brings your whole face together
Almost like how pizza is made complete with spread and toppings
It’s beautiful but satisfying  
Cherry on top of the cake
It makes my heart flutter and melt
Like cheese dripping out from yummy corn dogs
Messy but so so lovely

I love everything about the way it is with you
Head to toe
Limbs to fingers
Lips to chin

it’s almost three in the morning
and i’m up in my too small bed
in a room that is too quiet
and my brain won’t stop
and my chest feels tight and i can’t stop
thinking of all the wrong i did against you

in the quiet of my room i think i’m learning
finally learning how to be kind
not to others
no that’s always been something i’ve excelled in
the sins of others were always easier to wipe away
their transgressions easier to look past
easier to drown them in grace
while leaving myself to burn

no i’m learning to be kind to myself
i was a bad person
or i could be a bad person
but that person isn’t me anymore
they deserve forgiveness
they were too young
and damaged
and unable to be kind to themselves

it’s okay
rest
you fought for a long time
and you fought well
but you’re safe now
people seem to forget that the throne you sat on
was not given
you had to crawl through the mud
and **** and maim to get to it
you became lethal
in response to a world that wanted to end you

but it’s time
to learn how to drop the sword
you are more than a weapon
more than a vessel of destruction
your jagged edges can be smoothed down
and where once rested anger and fear
you carry grace
and mercy

Where do I start in letting you go?

It's not in the ruminations. All they'll long for are simpler, purer times, back when loving me was everything you ever knew — back when sighing your name didn't hurt. Now it's a whisper, settling on the ground long after the woodsmoke has stopped lingering. Now, it's just a memory settling deep in an open wound.

And love, where do I start in letting you go? My hands are still bruised from writing poems, when you already were handing me crumpled paper roses — all etched with endings I was afraid to write. The moment you kissed her lips, did you already let me go? Now here on my shoulder rests the weight — the mess of it all. Tell me, what do I do with these words, falling helplessly on my lap? What do I do with all this hurting? What do I do with all this love?

And where do I start in letting you go, when my shaking hands still refuse to confront your absence? When my throat still refuses to abandon all yearning — a wounded huntress that still screams for the moon. And I'd hoped it is easier to stop loving you after your skin had been tainted by her lips, ghosting gently — forming into the sweetest of smiles.

And I'd hoped it is easier to stop loving you after you had drowned August's promises against her hair when you'd deepen your kiss — after you had surrendered September's 4 a.m.s, November's love letters, December's midnight rains, January's stove-lit dances, February's moonlit walks, March's Irish teas and solitude, and April's quiet peace — all of it, spoiled, in the name of her kiss. Now all of it — in ruins, lying, waiting patiently for a can of worms, burrowing their way into everything I held dear.

Rome didn't burn down in a day. I wish I would. I wish we would; what's left in ruins won't ever hurt.

And so love,
where do I start in letting you go?




// "Tell me all the ways of letting you go."

Another lonely night


watching night-blooming cereus


wind quietly passes by


dewdrop touches my eye


lonely street


traffic coming


going


dusk quietly leaves

the face of this


lonely window


looking at the world outside


alone


raindrops turn into tears


on my fingertips


memories fall heavily


on my heart again


and again


lonely spring morning


riding alone in lush surroundings


sounds of birds and water


sorrow of the wind


gently blows.

I wish I could be the right thing

For the right person

But I'm the wrong thing for everyone

And everyone's wrong for me

I dare not scratch the surface Plato itched,
For fear I'd break my fingers on the stone.
My faculties in circles whirl around,
Which metaphor Aristotle would bemoan.

My femininity is undenied
And thus my musings, when they first began,
Would be utterly rejected, undeniably rebuked,
By one featherless bipedal man.

The History that gulped Atlantis down
Into its sunken depths, has made a grave
For all free thinkers, locked by secret PINs.
Philosophy, no more, these souls can save.

I carry naught but spades in both my hands,
Seeking to unearth artful thought's tomb.
Labor-sweat pours down, yet I am left to merely mourn
The heartbeat ne'er since heard from Athen's womb.