convinced
i become
transfixed
a
thousand times
in any given
day—
by smiles,
by words,
by songs,
by smells,
by flowers,
by crystals,
by raindrops,
by coffee mugs,
& even by
the things that bite.
- my fatal flaw.
me
watched
tuck everlasting on
a merry-go-round
loop
& i could never
get past the ‘why’—
why why why
why why why
did winnie
refuse to drink
from the
eternal spring
that
would allow her
to go on
endless adventures
alongside her
beloved jesse?
it would
have been
just them
against this
awful
mortal world
until
the day
the earth
caught fire,
& what
else
is there
to live for
besides
your
one true
love?
- & now i would tell her, “everything.”
before i met you, my darling monster-boy, i was with that shy green-eyed boy. in case you forgot, he was the one who traveled so fleetingly between me & the girl wearing the lemon sundress that i forgot he was even there most days. oh, i’m sure you remember. he was the one who stopped by every night & opened my closet—careful so as not to make a sound—so he could tuck away his knapsack filled with secrets, utterly convinced that shielding me was the same as protecting me.
- you never thought i needed protection from your lies.
green-eyed boy
may have
left me for dead
when he
walked away
with one hand
in hers,
but
it wasn’t long
before
you stopped
&
offered me
a hand
d r i p p
i
with n
resurrection. g
- did i ever even have a choice?
told me
i was an
obligation
like
grocery shopping
on an
empty stomach,
but you
told me
i was as
vital
as
that
after-dinner
cigarette
you
could never
have just
one of.
- the difference between.
if this makes
any sense,
but you
make me
forget
what
it feels like
to miss
someone
i was never
to
call
mine.
- are you my antidote or my poison?
(when a sad, sad girl with a mangled-up heart comes face to face with a beautiful boy who loves nothing more than mangling hearts, is there really any way it can end other than in bloodshed?)
we’re so wrapped up in each other that we begin to miss meals. we can’t sleep for more than a few hours at a time. we forget everything that makes us ache in the worst ways. we’re so afraid this will all slip from our fingers like a haze of barely-there smoke, so we make a kind of game out of it.
“want to play?” you ask me.
before i can answer, you explain the rules like this: “you’ll bleed yourself dry for me one question at a time—no passing. i’ll lick your wounds & then you’ll do the same for me. right here, right now.”
“who goes first?” i ask. no hesitation.
- the truth without the dare.
with you
was
like that
knowing,
heart-stopping,
airless,
upside-down
moment
right before
a fatal
collision.
- brace for impact.
as well
say “bye-bye”
because
this girl
right here
is a
fucking
goner.
- with you there is no faking it.
“i’ve got to tell you—that sleep-coated voice might just send me to my grave.”
- this boy, he’ll be the death of me.
on me
&
i was
too young
to realize
you were the
one who
should have
known better.
- red & wolf II.
he doesn’t sparkle.
my boy—
he doesn’t dazzle.
my boy—
he doesn’t shine.
when
he kisses me
i can taste
all the midnights
even try to hide.
- my monster-boy.
something
out of a
bedtime
story,
but
i have yet
to decide
if he’s the
chivalrous man
come to
rescue me
or
the
ravenous
monster
come to
devour me
& leave me
screaming
in the dark.
- i don’t think i’d mind either one.
we lay there in comfortable silence for several lifetimes & reincarnations before you finally break it. “how very special it is,” you remark, twirling a lock of my hair around your finger, “that you had every reason to lock, bolt, & paint your door shut, but you still had enough space in that trusting heart of yours to leave it ajar & brave the cold air for me.”
& i thought, trusting? or naïve?
my head
on top of
your chest
& the song
inside
sounds
like
the
soundtrack
to my
salvation.
- i never did have an ear for music.
over & over he would tell me that i was the honey to his tea—the only thing that could ever sweeten him to his liking. somewhere along the way, he forgot to mention the swarms of flies & wasps that would eventually come to cover everything we made together. the spoilage of all this misguided longing.
- infestation.
her monster
tells her
he loves
her,
not me.
when night falls,
my monster
tells me
he loves
me,
not her.
i have trouble
believing
the monster
loves
either of
us.
- god, do i ever learn?
decide
if we
managed
to meet
at all
the
wrong times,
or
if we just
weren’t
meant
to meet
at all.
- for someone who doesn’t believe in fate, i sure do write about it a lot.
only way
i can
remember
what
happened
is if
i sit down
&
pray
to
the paper
&
hope
the pen
is a believer.
- to make up for the fact that i’m not.