love was here

We fell in Love here

Beneath string-light stars and white drywall.

Cracked palms on smooth skin,

decaying kisses.

 

We fell in Love here

above grass as green as the sea.

Kisses in darkened closets,

Love on

living room floors.

 

We fell in Love here

within forts of crumpled sheets.

Quiet whistles,

guitar picks.

 

Love came

With short brown hair

and an easy smile.

With long legs,

pearlescent skin.

 

Love came

with desire,

hope.

 

Love came,

and Love left.

 

We fell in Love here,

and out of love,

in an 8 month

migration.

 

I fell in Love here,

and I watched you leave

like a housewife

in wartime.

 

For you have battles to fight

and I cannot fend off the monsters

for long.

 

Darkened closets

and forts of crumpled sheets

can only provide so much shelter.

 

For they will come,

baring teeth,

clenched palms,

and they will try to take you.

 

But dear,

if nothing else,

do not let them take

your tenderness.

 

Remember that it is a virtue,

Love on living room floors,

in darkened closets,

is a virtue.

 

Remember to find tenderness

in the darkest corners,

to climb the barbed wire

and stand with your face in the sunlight.

 

And when you find it

in the nape of another’s neck

remember me.

 

There was a time before,

And there will be a time after.

 

And when you think of this,

remember:

 

Love was here.

haikus for girls i’ve loved

Afternoons spent of dirty floors

stained carpets and rain on windshields

you pretended to cry

I pretended to love you

 

I was never told

you can’t make homes

out of people

 

You taught me

to climb barbed wire

without scratching my palms

 

You said you’d met god

at 3am

and he hated you

 

I could write novels

about each one

of your faces

 

How peculiar it is

to love nothing

and everything

all at once

 

How nice it is to be wanted

she thought

even at such a cost

 

 

 

pour croire a se; to accept oneself (ages 8-18)

18:

I am no longer afraid to touch her. Magnolias have sprouted from my chest as an atomic bomb; a mushroom cloud of my purest thoughts. I have always been this way. I have always been capable of this.

17:

He’ll grab your wrists and lay hand on your waist, spinning you madly about his shoulders and ridding you of any purity you once felt. But you will never hear him call you beautiful.

16:

Pecola Breedlove is the purest representation of your innermost thoughts. You are driven to mere insanity at the thought of who you are, of who you are becoming, and you will pace back and forth within the blackness of your own mind, wondering if it will always be this way. Remember that stars cannot shine without darkness. I could feel the chains of Cetus piercing my chest from millions of miles away.

15:

I think I look like a raccoon by 11:45. No dimly lit bathroom could make me shed this skin. I writhe like a snake, but I have never been able to rid myself of this veil over my eyes and body.

14:

At least he was honest. Could it be that this isn’t real, that this is something I’ve made up in my head; a result of external influence? Stifle it. I didn’t know it yet, but it would take me years to even say the word out loud.

13:

She said that friends don’t hold each other like that, and I guess she’s right. She looked at me, and I swear that I could feel elephants dancing inside my body.

12:

The man in the purple glasses said that there is nothing abnormal about me. I’m not sure that I believe him.

11:

The boys frighten me. They’re far too intense, too driven for this.

10:

I keep drawing ballerinas; elegant lines and arabesques gracing the shining white pages in front of me.

9:

I think I can tell by the heels of his shoes. I’d never met anyone else like me before.

8:

I’ve never felt so different.

18:

I posed an existential crisis at 17, and I let myself fade into black at a single tug of the chain. I am Andromeda, the lady in chains, and I lost myself between the can’s and the can’ts, the should’s and the shouldn’ts. I have written an epitaph to who I no longer am; I am no longer afraid to allow myself to breathe.

Qui vivra verra.

I am, I am.