My Name

The reason I love my name 

Is because I see it as a gift from the people I love.

From the people who love me.

Perhaps I do not feel connected to this existence,

Perhaps my soul live not in the name.

I do not feel connected to the self that others perceive me as,

And my own sense of self is not tethered to their game.

But to me it is not a chain 

that binds me. 

It is embroidered in the towels my grandmother gave me,

It’s written on the birthday wishes that my best friend sent

When we were eleven, twelve.

My name is not me, she's a sister.

I love her, and she loves them, and we love him.

The fourteen year old boy who fell asleep weeping,

The twenty-year old who acknowledged what They were,

and bid kind acknowledgement to Him and Her.

My name is not me, but she is my beloved.

She has cared for me and held me, even

when her love was dearly unwanted.

But we'll move forward, through our life,

for there exists no other who so tightly gripped my hand.

My name is the mask others will see upon me,

But I have never really worn a mask.

I will just live. Exist. And breathe and move on,

expect respect and to love remain open,

For she is not me, but with her I am never alone.

And my name and I will carry on.

And with her gift their life was dyed upon.

So They will walk with ‘her’ in hand,

Because my name is a gift

from people that knew not who I am. 

Blue

 I'm mad

Because I felt nothing for so long,

and I'd never felt anything so strong

Everything is blue,

and everything I gave I gave to you.

Everything is gray,

even now, I clutch at every day.

My heart is closed for reparations,

And I know I need to take time and piece it back up,

but I want to be rid of all these pitiful ruminations.

I want to feel!

I want to feel the gleam in my eyes when I look into another's.

I want to feel the comfort in my heart when I'm held in their arms.

But you never played with my hair,

You never whispered in my ear.

And they will,

whoever it is, I'll feel.

Everything in blue.

The ocean reflected in my eyes,

You will never get to see.

And everything in their hands,

My hair, my heart, my dreams,

My tears.

You can keep the grey.

Keep your smoke, your screams, vomit, the years.

I don't need any of it and I never did,

You never owned any piece of me.

No piece of me is gray.

It's all in my hands now,

and everything is blue.

Rager Rabbit

I am angry.

I am angry at you.

I’ve gone through feeling sad and guilty,

And missing you and being afraid that I’ll never find someone like you.

And hating you,

And being terrified of ever having you again in my life because I feel like you’ll drag me down.

Like you being anywhere near me is going to pull me in your spiral, 

down, down, down.

I’m teetering on the edge of my own ledge,

There’s a hole in the ground and it leads somewhere I don’t want even want to look.

And I’m holding on, I’m too proud to fall back in there,

I’m too proud to ever want you, too. 

I chose myself and I will choose myself, forever.

I feel hurt and angry and used.

I’m the neck and you’re the noose.

You wanted me to be whatever you had in your mind,

And I wanted to be what you wanted, what you could be proud of. 

I tried to be something that you could show off. 

Within the bounds of myself, to become acceptable to your peers. 

To your stuck up, cold hands, and to the friends that leave you in tears.

And that is a fault of mine. I was spineless, I knew not my face.

That was my fault and my mistake. And I recognize it and accept it.

I learned to look into myself only after I'd cut the chain and closed the door.

But I’m apologizing to myself.

Because I fucking hate you. I don’t. 

But it feels nice to pretend I do. 

Kiss Kill

You only want to kiss me when you’re wasted

You’re only touchy when we’re in front of your friends

The only time you want to hold me is when I don’t want to

Yet still I put myself into your hands

You’re nothing but a scratch on my shin

Yet the cut grows inwards and makes my body shake inside my skin

You only want to kiss me when you’re wasted

You’ll wake up tomorrow and puke as if you regret it

Every time I stay over you wake up feeling sick

I keep wondering why you’re asking me to stay

You only want me because you’re lonely

You want me like a leash held on your hand

If you ask I’ll stay up to run my hands through your hair

Even if my arms get sore and I don’t want to be awake

You’re nothing but the cut on my lip

It’s so tiny but you know it stings like a bitch

I wonder why I’m staying up ’til morning

You tell me “If you want to, go to sleep”

But when I get off the couch and leave you lying

You look at me like I’m the wolf and you’re the sheep

I hate the way you called me darling

As if you really cared for me and loved me too

No, I’m not saying you were lying,

I’m just saying your heart left mine black and blue.

Sunset Angelica

 Angelica,

blooming in the twilight.

The one who left my neck a pleasant purple,

my thighs littered with bruising bites.

Angelica,

shining gold under the sunlight.

Her voice left my wounds appeased and supple,

her music healing my sunrise.

Braiding hair upon a tower, runs her hands along my spine.

Her touch sings praises. Like a flower, I shall bloom under her hands.

Angelica, you are magnificent, please be aware of the fact.

The songs we sang upon cold stairwells were a kindness to my heart.

Keep Your Shoes On

 I hope someday

You grow yourself a better man.

Your voice hit me harder than hands ever can.

You'll never feel

how the earth under bare feet, is kind.

An open voice on a rolling hill, nowhere I step is out of line.

Carry your bones,

I'll cary mine. They're inside

my body, light. Keep your wings, they cannot swim with the tide.

Angels in the ocean,

are as meant to be as you and I,

You know I loved you, but you'd never swim with pride.

Keep your shoes on,

gardener. Your anemones and mine

are different. Hillside flowers won't bloom in the sand.

I don't need to grow

a garden beneath the sea. I take it

as it comes, as it sways beneath the waves and eats away at the rocks.

Yes my heart is full

of your memory and our sobbing. Yet

it's my space to mourn, I'll let the waves call loud, to wash away the dread.

The sealight sings me a lullaby, my spirit clinging to her tune.

Her voice speaks love, and her touch is mild.

I've been sleeping in her arms ever since I was a child.

Keep your bare feet covered, gardener.

 I will stroll away in mine.

Hollow Bones

 I went through all our pictures,

after two months where the glimpse of your face was traumatic.

They went by so fast,

the felt hundred years I scrolled through in two minutes, dramatic.

If you ask me "do you love me?",

my answer is a clear "I don't know". 

Not because I am cruel,

but because I'm so used to throwing my feelings away,

I don't know what they're supposed to mean or why it hurts,

if they linger will I find out? But it stings.

A hundred years of you,

in less than three months. In your house. 

In this small room where the outside world doesn't exist,

A hundred years of tears.

In all my memory only you

have made my head spin like that. Not even the moon,

for who I stayed awake until sunrise, just to talk.

If I see your face

and hear your voice, hold your hand,

Will you take my heart,

or will it set me free. I can only imagine, lest I see.

You're not Apollo and you're not Selene,

you're an angel, and I'm the one with hollow bones.

I can't dare to call you my angel anymore.

But that name is only for you.

You're an angel,

and I'm the one with hollow bones.

Anemone

 I don't know

If I want to keep you in my heart for you

or for myself

I don't know

Wether it's better for us to disappear

and move on to different lives

I don't know

How will I feel when I see 

your face again?

Do you want

what's best for me? Or will you use me 

to heal yourself instead

Do I miss

the touch of your heart and you voice,

or the vague memory of it?

Should I speak,

or wait for you to reply to my silence?

I meant it.

I won't grow your anemones.

I've enough of your screams in my lungs.

And there's limited space between my bones.

You're no longer the one I'm dancing with, in my mind.

Thunder Only Happens When It's Raining

I’ve only loved people privately and never had the opportunity to properly explore my feelings. You are the only person I’ve loved that I clung to, spoke my feelings to. And I tried desperately to not run away.

I am confident in myself, and I convince myself that I am, but I am insecure. I am insecure about my identity and how I want to be seen and who I want to love and how I want to be loved.

And I realized that that’s what I meant when I said that we were at different stages in out lives. I was not trying to make you feel guilty about your age, and I told you that, but I didn’t know exactly what I truly meant. I meant that you have experienced your sexuality and identity in your life. You’ve been with people of different genders and experienced what it is that you want and do not want and what has made you unhappy and figured out what you long for. And I haven’t, and I really want to. But by being with you I also negated a very recent part of my identity that I found comfort in, but have never had the chance to experience. 

I did not mind being your girlfriend even as I went by neutral pronouns, femininity didn’t bring me discomfort I relented my limited understanding of myself to please you. You wanted to be seen as a man with a girlfriend, and were understandably distraught that outsiders saw us as two female partners. However for me the thing that made me uncomfortable was to be seen as the girl to a man. I longed since childhood to love a woman, and loving a man felt to me like that opportunity was being taken away from me.

And I did not ever see you as a woman. I understood you as a boy, perhaps an androgynous entity on his way to becoming fully as he wished. A boy wanting to become a man. And I know you understood me as “they”, but I know too that you saw me and wanted me as “your girl”. And I do not mind the girl part as much as I mind the part where I am an item to be possessed. I never want to be possessed by a woman either, but the fact to be “mine” to a man is something I find terrifying. I feel like I had been playing a role. I was not myself, but I was playing a "girl", a "girlfriend". A pedestal you placed me on, and I liked the attention, but it ate away at my bones.

And sometimes I feel like I want to be with you again. I want to hug you and comfort you, and use the knowledge and courage I’ve gained after breaking it off with you, to make for a better relationship on my part. I think about you every day, and I know that I love you. I don’t love you as a boyfriend, perhaps not as a friend either, but I love you as a human being. I care for your existence.

But I also remember all the hurt and worry, the anxiety, the discomfort and the sadness and the wrenching of my heart inside my chest. The infection that repeated to my mind that I wanted to die, so that I could escape. The fact that I never yelled as hard as I did when I clutched onto your chest and cried. That my pain was so that the only way I knew how to get it out was to scream and wail, and hold you desperately until I fell asleep. And how afterwards I felt like all that was left to my body and soul was an exoskeleton, and the only thing moving me was the wind and promises I'd paid for and made. And I wonder, is it worth it? I cannot make it okay for you at the expense of my own wellbeing.

Would I be your beloved again, if you changed? Would I want you back? Would you? Can we be friends, or is it useless to cling to each other? I know the answer to none of these. Perhaps the corner of my mind where I hug you tenderly, where now when you ask “what to do” I play music and we dance to Rihannon as the rain falls down, is just me longing for something that you and I can never have. Something we can never have because of the people that we are. Because what I want is not what you want, is it? And what you want is not for me, either, is it? And as my dreams unwind, I’m still in the state of mind. And perhaps where I will find the tender hugs and the peaceful dances, is in the heart of someone else. Perhaps what I need is to train my mind, so what I see is not your face. Shall I just let the rain swallow this memory whole.

You don’t listen to these songs, anyway.  

Dreams Unwind, Lover's State of Mind

Do I want a love that makes me fall to pieces?

No matter how many poems it gives me, it's not nice.

Because I know what the love I had for you

did to crush and wring my heart, small and dry.

I want to know if you loved me as I loved you,

or if you just clung to me so desperately

because you feared to be alone, and then loved me some?

What words cross your mind when the image is who I am?

I want to love and hold desperately as I held you,

but this time with no hesitation. With no fear.

A love that makes me want to come home, instead

of run away and regurgitate my guts, heart in tow.

I want to know both that which is lighthearted and playful,

and that to which my veins and heart cling to and curl around.

I want to know a smile that's like sunflowers, 

I want someone that grows bright blooms instead of panic.

In another world, it could have been you.

But I will not mourn, for that concerns the us-others.

Did you ever kiss my forehead to say goodnight?

And from me, what did you want? 

Susan's Letters – To my first ever beloved

 I've only written to you once,

and the poems began long after you'd left.

But today I read of Emily's beloved,

and I wondered: "have I ever–

or will I ever–love as strongly?"

And the thought of you came to my mind.

I did not love you as strongly,

and did not love you for as long.

But you were there, ever-blooming summer,

before my letters to love had even begun.

And as I reminisce of a lover lost to summer,

or perhaps mourn a summer lost to love,

I remember you and I am grateful.

The glare of unruly salt, sweat, and laughter, 

to whom Apollo's shine could not ever compare.

I smile all the smiles you gave me, 

clean the cuts and scrapes of my knees you'd mend.

I'll disinfect the wound as you taught me,

and feel the sun on my skin through the clouds.

And the thought of you heals me as I move forward.

To my dearest, once-best-friend.

Your happiness is mine too.

You, who made love sunflowers.

To the Birds

Why do I still write to you?

It has not nearly been a while.

I need a place to put these feelings.

Are they even strong enough to leave?

The hardest cry I ever put into the sky,

is the one you wrestled from my chest.

How is it, that you ever held that power?

If I miss you again, tell me to not return.

If I love you again, I'll struggle to stay awake.

if I remain alone will my eyes stay open?

If I miss you again I'll tell myself, first,

feed my body to the birds.

Let me, before I reach for your hand,

Feed my body to the birds.

Marceline, who held my hand

The more I get to process the things that you've said to me the more resentment I feel, and the more I wonder wether I really want to be your friend in the future.

But I don't want to feel resentment, or the shaky, anxious grip on my gut whenever I think about you. I don't want you to have any more hold over my feelings, I want to hold my own hand as I move through this.

You called me your thing, you called me an object. Disregard the "most precious thing" because it is the last piece that matters. "You're mine" as a thing to say, is terrifying and disgusting. That made me feel used.

"I want you to ask me for help, to depend on me, so I can feel useful in this relationship", "So I can feel better about myself."

You wanted me to be as insecure and dependent as you. I shouldn't be strong and able to do things on my own, I should need you. The pieces of me that I was most proud of were the ones you least wanted.

You better not ever take these words back, I won't hear any more "I didn't mean it" or "I shouldn't have said it." Because if I am not allowed to take my words back, neither are you.

The one who says things can forget them but the one they're said to has to deal with them. And we've both been on either side.

I am not and was never a thing you owned, I was not put into this world to make you happy. My biggest mistake was not standing up for the feelings that cam from my gut, and taking what you said as "the path I should follow".

So deal with your own thoughts. Being hasty to deal with everything immediately won't do you well on the long run. Sometimes things need to be processed before they can be discussed.

So feel free to think whatever you want. The people who care about me most know how hard I tried.

Mint and Gunpowder

Every morning in this new place,
I drink mint and gunpowder.

And the night I dream of you,
It comforts me that I am there no longer.

You still grip over my heart,
in these nightmares I see 'returning'.

My fear is to ever want you back,
but once I drink

Mint and gunpowder,
it holds me and tells me: 

I'm there no longer.

Cutting Peaches

I can't breathe.
Neither can you.

Your soul drags mine heavy
around the room.

I don't know what to say,
you don't know what to do.

So that night again,
I cut peaches for you.

Are you happy?
You say you are.

You were just glad to not be alone,
I didn't have to go that far.

I cut peaches in the morning,
night and afternoon.

Whenever our tears are falling,
I'm cutting white peaches for you.

Tonight I've cut a peach again.
A different kitchen, different knife.

And as the thin skin rips, I'm thankful 

to not have you in my life.

My angel, your bones

My angel,
your bones are heavy.

They're heavy inside my body,
I've been hollowed out and bare,

And I shall feel no guilt,
for the blame is not only mine.

You cannot see your fault,
and I am too soft on you to tell myself,
that you too were wrong,

Angel, my bones are heavy.
As I bear them once I go.

This title has been in my mind for ages,
and only today have I found who to lay it upon.

Angel, our bones are heavy.
I cannot carry them for you.
And I do not want you to carry mine,
That's what you wanted me to do.

I'll place my bones back in my body,
your memory and the creases in my spine.
I'll hold you close to my heart forever,
But I know that we must part.

Button Up Shirts

You never say you love me.
And I've said it once.
And I will forever, to everyone except to you.

With the correct backdrop of a song at night,
My worthless thoughts now seem so solemn.
Wake up and cry, from a nap I don't remember.

When you're not here your words are cold,
The things you say are so empty.
Do you really care about me?
Or do you care for what I do for you.

My face is worth nothing to me,
Is the rest of me worth anything to you?
Do we even know each other.

I can't feel my dreams around you,
Should I just dream about her instead?
I'll hang on for the time being,

I'll continue to lick your wounds,
And my own, once you're done.

Until you no longer have use for me,
Once I swim back up from this headlong dive,
And run back into my own open arms.

Wash myself clean from your smell.

I was too hasty, wasn't I.