1000.

I let you count
Me out
Rearrange me
Cut me like a
Jigsaw, you tried
To whittle down
My pieces but
Every
Perfect
Part
Was there and
Waiting to fit
But I didn’t fit

And time
Has told me
You’re just bad at puzzles.

Treasure.

You’re my 4th birthday
My tulip
Or maybe my iris
My Van Gogh
My pink Starburst
My lavender sunrise
The one who takes me
Down to Strawberry Fields
My vanilla
My coconut
My mom’s sapphire ring
All the things
I love the most
Because you’re my favorite
Didn’t you know?

Puddle.

And sometimes late at night I feel so unhappy. I am my own undoing. I poke holes in my blanket. I make holes in the wall. Destruction I hide with borrowed beauty. That was years ago. Was I ever that angry. I was. I can still taste pieces of the grit and grimeash and oil on my tongue, catching in my throat and denying me breath when all I want to do is breathe. And be. Why can’t I just be. Why do I have to ruin it. Because I have to ruin it. That saboteur. The guilt bringer. The undoer. It’s all in me.

For all who carry a phantom weight.

When you’re born sad.

When you walk with cement in your head / stones in your stomach / a brick behind your ribs –
For nothing.
For everything.

When there is nothing to work through / only chemicals.
When bad ideas aren’t placed / they’re created.
When trauma doesn’t live there / but your body needs to be healed.

Understand

No one handed it to you,
But you still hold it.

And you’ll never deserve it.
Recovery is your word, too.

On Friendship.

Dedicated to my best friend of 26 years. Two sad and lonely little girls came together by chance one balmy afternoon. I will always call it fate.

___________________

Two souls of old
One smooth, one jagged
Both soft but
Neither shapeable
So they swing
Above the rest
They meet by chance
And build rooms
Of their own
A space to fit.

Two minds of depth
Chiaroscuro
Matching rays and
Different shades
Of the same shadow
Low heads and
High spirits —
They come alive in memories
Sustained
In laughter
In sugar
And Spice.

Imaginations fly
Schemes hatch
Hearts open
Between pink walls
On scratchy couches
Where they watch
And they wonder
They speak without words
Codes and keys —
Locks
To those rooms
That space
They’ll both remember
And return to
For all their days.

Occidental.

Giving time
Consideration now
Our weathered storms
Mean later swells but
You touched me
Inside of my shell
You held me still
Perfect arms
Until
We opened the gates
And I spilled
Now every part of you
Leaves me to
My briny fate.