She's dressed all in black and
fifty shades of gray
ripped tights and a
jaded look on her face
but her eyes tell something deeper
there's a fire burning bright
some have tried to cheat her
bur she was born to fight.

She feels forgotten now
lying on her bedroom floor
so small inside her head
but her heart feels so much more
it's dark outside, and silent
hours from the sunrise
her thoughts are waxing violent
slaying fears, tearless brown eyes

It's been the longest week
every minute lasts an hour
she throws her hair up carelessly
and stops to pick a flower
she tucks it up behind her ear
and smiles at a stranger
she's welcome and accepted here
the sunshine entertains her

She inhales peace and
exhales weight and lets the world spin slower
a haze of smoke and memories
she knows that nothing owns her
life is a gift and just like her
it's short and tough and lovely
she whispers, "nothing's as it seems"
her dreams so far above me

She's deep, contemplative
complicated, funny, smart
she lives like shes a paintbrush, effortlessly making art
leaving a trail of beauty through the boring and mundane
she'll captivate you gently
and you'll never be the same.

I hate not knowing things about you like
the way your chest moves when you breathe in your sleep
the heat that rises off your skin or
the scent of your hair after
showering
not showering
coming home at 6am from the gym
I want to know what kind of sound emits from your lips as you
wake from a nightmare
haunted by a memory and
the way your stubble feels against the back of my neck when
you sneak up behind me while I cook your breakfast and
I want to know the taste of your skin around your belly button and
the texture of your hipbones against my tongue and
I want to see the look in your eyes as you
release inside of me and
lose yourself for a few moments and
our souls unite in a sweaty tangle of imperfect passion and
you draw away but I stay with you
you carry me in your pores and in your thoughts and your
oh so hidden feelings
and at least
I know what no one else knows
about you
I know I am the oxygen in your lungs
I know I am the star of your deepest fantasies and
I know your safe place is in my chest where you can hear the rhythm of my heartbeat screaming your name.

You’ll be hot and hard and slow and sweet.
I’ll let you take out all your frustations on me
for hours
or days
or weeks
Whatever it takes til you’ve spent all your
energy.

I want to drain you.
I want to
absorb
all your anger
and hurt
and sadness
and rejection
all the
abuse
and neglect
and imagination
and thoughts
and concerns
and torment
and loneliness.

Etch it into my back with your fingernails
press it into my hipbones with your hands
whisper it into my mouth with your tongue and
leave it for me to swallow
let your body tell my body those tales and secrets
that your mind dreads allowing your voice to utter
and spill the fear of yourself inside me
or leave it splatted across my bed and body
I’ll clean up the mess
You’ll stumble away from me
bruised
and breathless
and
begging for more.

And baby,
if it takes a lifetime to correct
a lifetime of mistakes
I’m the one you want
I’ll kiss you awake
from your slumber of sadness and
I’ll lead you away
and we can lose ourselves
screams, tears, and sweat
we can find each other and
we can finally forget
to whom we’ve belonged and
where we’ve been
you’re you
I’m me

Free.

I want to
see the world
live in airports
pick up a few words in foreign languages
because I’m moving around too much to learn more than that.
I want to make enough money
just enough
to buy a new pair of shoes now and then
and jeans when the pair I have rips
and to have a dog.
Maybe two dogs.
And a tiny apartment to myself
with a fireplace and a chaise lounge
that orange one
that I’d say I wanted
when we got married but now
I just want it for the nights I’m alone
or the rainy days off
to curl in a ball and
read an entire book
or listen to five new albums I downloaded obessively
because I heard one song by that band that I liked
and I needed the whole collection
And I’ll curl up by myself
and I’ll listen til I fall asleep
and I’ll lie comatose for four hours
because I haven’t slept in weeks
and I’ll wake up with pain all down my spine
and realize I forgot to blow out the candles
and it will be okay
I’ll be okay.
And at some point
the nightmares will stop
I’ll stop seeing you
seeing you with her
with me
I’ll just stop seeing you
I’ll forget the light in your eyes
and the lilt of your laughter
and the stubble that grew so lightly when you forgot to shave that morning and
how it tickled my neck when you would whisper into me
3:45am when I rolled over
with a nightmare, seeking comfort
in the days before I knew you were a worse nightmare
before I learned to hold myself because
no one else will always be there.
And I’ll stop daydreaming about
carving out
pieces of my flesh like
some kind of goddamn sacrifice to you
spilling my blood like it will draw you back
and I’ll breathe
and I’ll be whole
and I’ll be okay
and I’ll wait for the next someone
who steals my breath
who makes me forget that
I can survive loneliness and
the world is bigger than my bedroom.
Or just someone who
makes me forget the scent of your skin
after the third time we made love and
broke promises for the first of many times.
Either way
I’ll wait
I’ll wait
and I’ll go on surviving and remembering
how to forget.

It feels like a betrayal of myself to even address this to him. I hate writing as if to myself and not a seperate party, yet that’s what he has reduced me to. I don’t know how to crawl out of that.
I was just beginning to heal, a thin veneer of new skin growing over my wounds. He appeared out of nowhere and tore them open with his bare hands. I collapsed, bleeding and weak, and he laughed as he walked away. He thinks it makes him strong, not caring, but it only reveals his fragile self-perception to me. I have been the strong one. I have been the one capable of remaining single, capable of expressing and processing my thoughts, feelings and doubts as they come. I think he wants that. I think he at least doesn’t want me to have it. He wants to strip me of my stability. He wants me to feel inadequate and exposed. And I do. His fear tactics worked. He is making me question things I never used to question. He has made me want to slay my own hopes.
Yet deep inside, there is a little spark whispering to me, “what he tries to make you feel is what he feels about himself. Hold your hands open. Breathe. Exhale. Stretch. Lift your heart. This will pass. The bleeding will stop. You will heal. You will heal. You will heal. You are stronger than him.”

I fling my window open wide so I can feel the rain
Like giving myself away too quick, trading safety for pain
The cold blows in so quietly, it reminds me of your voice
I trusted you to save me, you made me regret my choice
Like vision before sleeping, I’m fading away, slow
Your memories of me slip away. I turn into a ghost
Before you I was colorful, impetuous and young
After you I’ve grown old and worn. I’m cautious. I am numb.