he may say that he loves you
but does he know to be fragile
with your glass bones
and porcelain skin
like i do?
does he know about your
apathetic words
and to trust the look in your eyes
more than the syllables from your lips
anyone can proclaim their love
just because they may be infatuated
by your beauty
but no one can understand the pattern
at which you think
and love you
like i can
Snow Globe
Some people are going to treat you like a snow globe
and keep you on a shelf
and take you down only to shake you up
and watch what falls.
So break your glass
and let yourself pour out
and choose not to be so fragile.
Tip over the aquarium they keep you in
and seep into the ground
and grow flowers.
Evaporate into the clouds—
that high—
you’ll see more than a plastic house
where the snow is just paint
and the white-coated trees don’t grow or breathe—
let yourself fall in drops
and know you’ll be lifted up again.
Don't panic.
Don’t panic.
Words flow from the fingers
of people who refuse
to believe the world
is flat.
We accept the love we think
we deserve, but only
because we know
nothing else except
false dreams and harsh
realities.
But I refuse to believe that
only the beautiful
people fall in love;
I refuse to believe that
a model is worth
more love than a poet
who will remember the
little details.
So I will wait for the
day that my other half has
finally found me, and
I will continue to write,
hoping that they
know who I am.
One Size Fits Most
We stood shielded by trumpet vines
with orange blossoms
facing the sunset behind the pine trees
of my childhood home—
and no scenery could be more romantic.
But you pull me in
and I pull away
and think of him
and realize I only know my love
by your love.
And he knows his lack of love
by my love.
So I draw on yours for now
and he draws on mine
and we are a chain of those
loved and
unloved.
A vine of flowers and pulled petals:
he loves me,
he loves me not.
We are not shoes with a perfect match—
we are not made in pairs
We are not looking for our other halves.
We wear each other like bracelets—
one size fits most
and carry each other in the links;
a little tighter doesn’t always cut circulation,
a little looser doesn’t always slip off.
Like the Sun Loves the Earth
I used to be okay with loving like the moon
loves the earth
238,900 miles away
around and around.
And then I felt the thousands of telescopes on me
and I thought I needed to be held all the time,
but when I crashed into someone’s arms
I’ve always left craters and rubble.
I never knew my own size—my own weight.
I never knew the impact I left.
I was a meteor but I wasn’t beautiful—
I carried a tail of sparks and destruction
like tin cans on strings hung from my back bumper
without ever looking back
and I always left the wedding leaving him standing alone.
All the stargazers left me narcissistic
and I thought I made my own light—
but I was just rock borrowing sunlight.
Now I want to love like the sun loves the earth
and lend my warmth and light and ask for nothing back again.
I’m okay with feeling the fireflies flitter inside my belly
knowing you feel nothing at all.
I want to feel the heat in my cheeks
even if yours are cool.
I don’t want to revolve around you though.
I can bear this one-sided love of a planet
but I’ll stand still
—no more chasing.
Maybe to shine like the sun you need to be humbled—
and rejected by earth.
All the eyes can admire the moon
that borrows the silent shimmer of the sun—
but no eyes turn to stare down the actual star
—direct sunlight scars.
peach dust
you told me you were an artist
letting me assume you painted
beautiful pictures that let people
see wonder in the world.
but you never told me
you drew monsters
in heads.
you acted as though my brain
was a pure, unused white canvas
and scrawled beautifully warped
ideas of people and things and places
turning thoughts into demons
that possessed my entire mind.
you sketched your insecurities
into my genetic identity
so we were both stuck in this
hellish paradise you call home.
Please don't try to save me
You may have a hero complex. In your mind, you are Superman, or maybe more like Iron Man because you like to drink and you’re a bit fucked up. Still, you want to save me. Me. Do you have any idea how ridiculous that is? I could tick off a list of all of the scrapes I’ve been in and pulled myself out of, but it would bore you because it is too long a list. Not once have I sought your help. Yet, you keep looking for the helplessness in my eyes - something you need to see in order to love. We can all be weak at times, but we are never truly helpless as adults. At some point we all pull ourselves up by our bootstraps, even if we sometimes need someone to jump start us. How’s that for a mixed metaphor? Perhaps I could use a little help sorting out my metaphors, but aside from that, please do not try to save me.
I know what is happening here. It is so much easier to look at the faults we see in others and to suggest a way to fix them than it is to assess our own problems. You also need to feel dominant. I get it. I’m not trying to dominate your personality or your life. You are in my life and I am in yours, but you are not my Life. I cannot rely on anyone but myself. It is a truth few people want to admit. I may trust you, but in the end I have me. I will not put all of my hopes and dreams in you. I will share them with you freely, but you will not be my savior. If I am hanging off of a cliff and you offer your hand to pull me up, I will take it and thank you. Of course, I will. If you open the door for me, I will walk through it and thank you. I’ll take help and kindness. I have no problem with that. My problem is with the notion that you need to save me. The problem is yours. I dislike that aspect of your nature.
You may find a woman who wants a hero and who is constantly placing herself into perceived helplessness so that you will save her. Perhaps that is the kind of woman you need. It sounds like a horrible life to me, but if that is what you want, you should find her. There is simply too much to do in this life for me to have the time to go looking for pointless difficulties. I solve problems and I try not to make them. I try to be aware of my surroundings and the effect my actions have upon the world around me. I’m a grownup. What you need is a little girl in a woman’s body. There are many of those out there. Good luck to you.
