i heard we should stop writing our dreams

but i dream we’re all safe wrapped in arms

all safe behind plastic curtain

all mint condition

i dreamt the way a nose crinkles

the way the night was always shorter

when

you looked from the angle of the day

we say the word snug in a whisper

i become tachycardia

watch the oxygen leak

your eyes glint white in moonlight

i dreamt the taste of your teeth

dreamt your mouth tripping over

the word goodnight to settle on

goddamn we’re running out of time

i dreamt the exit with a sigh

woke to sunday on high

woke to midnight at the table outside

dreamt the way your tongue slipped in and out

of hazy goodbyes

*excerpt from my forthcoming book lamb/&/slaughter (Fifth Wheel Press 2024)

Your sweater lies draped across the chair

Sky blue, an effortless appearance

In an unassuming neutral environment

I feel its softness extend to

Reach out, drifting across the air.

Vibrations of grief

Stroke my cheek

With memory and tears anew.

Resting in languid serenity,

It calls my name as if

Awaiting my touch,

Always reminding me of you.

Warmth infuses my heart and

Memories flood the recesses

Of my mind whilst

Vivid recollections invade my soul.

On rainy, dreary days,

I pull its beloved form from the chair

Wrapping its softness securely about me.

Your lingering, sweet scent

Envelops my heart

In an illusion of comfort,

And a smile suffuses my face.

I dream you are beside me again.

Whispers and echoes of love hover,

Swirling. covering;

They bring comfort in

Evaporating waves of long abated intimacy.

Lightly, gingerly, I caress the softness,

Tears fill my eyes as a rampage

Of memories invade,

Taunting reverberations of deep longing.

How long since you were here?

I’m left with this mere essence of you,

Miniscule reassurance is mine.

I muster a smile amidst the arduous toil of grief,

And wrap myself in the soft, blue mellowness.

Temporarily, life abounds with renewed peace,

A resounding, overwhelming renewal

Of comfort.

Endurance emanates and lends a hand

Of calm, impending reassurance

Flowering from the softness

Of what was once yours.

Despite your absence,

This piece of you remains within reach;

A profound reminder and a promise

Of wondrous love that fills our eternity.

A stony heart refuses to concede to say the words formulating in my mind like a snowglobe being shaken into a flurry of torn love notes and shredded photographs. The scene ended long ago and the curtain closed yet demands for encores keep regurgitating feelings that I just wish would make sense. None of it does, from meeting you to you leaving agan, and again, and again (and one more time for good measure). Perhaps these come up as God's way of telling one of us that there is some unfinished business holding us back. Since I'm the only one talking, I guess it's me that needs to keep learning.

The thing is it's not like I'm not trying to learn and move on. Not in the "just get under another" way either. I mean, I'm not the same fifteen year old kid getting with bad men just because I know it'll spite someone who convinced me whatever we were doing was love. I'm sure I told you, during the drunken nights we'd spend talking, all about my exploits as the coveted "other woman" who shot herself in the foot like your old friend shot what's-her-face. You seemed so enthralled by my life that felt so bland in comparison to you, a gangbanger who played football and rapped and made thousands and literally left it all to hide in a war-torn country.

I hardly think of you now. I mean, you are in the back of my mind I guess since you still come up so easily whenever the opportunity arises. Just look at this piece that's another plea for the memory of you to stop haunting me so I can move on. I don't want to lose what you taught me in many ways but I want it to fade. I want to not compare what we had to what I have now or what I'll have later in life. Since you are clearly not what God intended for me, or are currently pulling a goddamn Jonah and hiding at the bottom of a sinking ship acting like you're not endangering everyone around you by not listening, I need to make a move and sever the tie between us before these memories make me drown.

You were a lesson in love, sure. A lesson that a person can dominate me without terrifying me. A lesson that a person can love me wholly and completely if I just let them. I guess just like you're more emotionally open, I'm more physically open. There's no way I would have gone on my first date or had my first adult kiss or lost my virginity had I not met you. I would have never gone on a limb and tried something new if I was unable to see what life feels like when I stop trying to plan it and anticipate what will happen next. I mean, you were predictable, sure, but your predictability was because I had jumped into the unknown and allowed myself to be fully curious and intrigued by someone, not as a romantic interest but as a person. I got to learn you and see how smart I was and remember how fun it was to learn someone and watch their reaction to having someone genuinely try and succeed to get to know them. Maybe it overwhelmed you... I've honestly given up on knowing the end. Though I still write these, I move on too. It's like telling the story again of a scar instead of reliving when the blade entered my skin and the adrenaline raced and the blood poured and all the pain surged through my body and paralyzed me.

The person I am with now challenges me by being the opposite of you in all the ways that count. He confuses me by being an enigma of emotion that I cannot crack. Though I unwilling trust that he likes me, I have to test the limits of my emotional endurance and my social anxiety every time we talk. The swarm of thoughts that this man forces me to feel and have is irritatingly exciting, and make even writing to you feel silly now because you clearly won't come back. One day, I will accept that perhaps I am not the one who needs to take the bait and explain myself for what happened between us. One day, I will take myself by the hands, look myself in the eyes, and tell myself that losing the first man that seemed to genuinely love me was not my fault. One day, I will be able to separate first love and only love and move to whatever is next. Probably cracking the Rubik's cube of a human that I am with now.

I usually end these with the typical goodbye or that I miss you and I honestly I don't know how to end this one. I guess it'll just end.

An artist stood atop Paris

in her rosy red dress,

a smile from cheek to cheek,

a pen in hand,

a sketchbook on her lap.

Enjoying the beauty of the summer,

as I did once myself,

back when our hands cradled one another,

and flowers bloomed beneath our feet.

Each line she etched into the paper

spoke more of her mind,

more of her mind than linguistics did,

more of her mind than the outsider knew,

sometimes more than I knew

Her features themselves were art,

a self portrait forever evolving,

as circumstance shifted around us,

and we shifted with circumstance.

Those features contort and twist as

our chain links rust away.

We cannot face each other,

not how we used to.

A spectre of the paint,

a phantom of those strokes.

A painting around every corner,

hooked onto my mind's eye.

I often wonder where the royal road

had split for us,

and where she had turned a different path.

Maybe it's for my own good our road

has never crossed,

Maybe it's time to feed the guillotine

within my mind.

Maybe I should let the memories roll,

into the empty basket below.

My Marie Antoinette never wore a crown.

My Marie Antoinette wore a beret.

I looked up when you walked by me,

Shied when you grazed my arm,

Smelled your scent in roses,

Turned my head around,

Watched as you planted your feet,

And looked right back at me.

I smiled as you stared me down,

Flew when your eyes lit up,

Froze in a moment of time,

Sank when you turned back around,

And died when you left my sight.

I imagined you in that dress,

Roses behind my back,

Hair fixed to a point,

Holding down my gaze...

Our love sank through our feet,

The roses on the ground,

But still, I think of you,

And how I:

I looked up when you walked by me,

Shied when you grazed my arm,

Smelled your scent in roses,

Turned my head around,

Watched as you planted your feet,

And looked right back at me.

We stayed up all night with you. I thought I’d be afraid to wash your cold skin, but I wasn’t. The warm water smelled like lavender and childhood. To care for you wasn’t a dreaded chore, it was a blessing. And one of our friends brought an apple cake with white icing.

We took turns reading your favorite books to you aloud, every line save for your handwriting in the margins. This we read only to ourselves. It ached as your precious words burrowed in my chest, but in my heart, they planted a song. The song wandered in the conversations of our friends and family around us in the room, changing form and melody, like a river swirling around stones. This was the song we heard in ourselves. We hoped you could hear it, too. To make a mournful noise seemed horribly out of place.

The next day, as loved ones came and went, the sunshine streamed down the hallway through the front door. Someone set a crystal vase of fresh tulips on your nightstand. The clock struck 8 a.m. You had a smile on your lips then, and that was the gift for which I am most grateful.

we sat togehter in his car, we were step siblings and we didint know eachother like that. i sat in the passenger seat nervous and i looked down at my hands alot. "so.." he said quietly nodding. "so" i took a deep breath. he scratched his head, "how about this. lets make it seem like we just met. hi im Tommy, whats your name?" i smiled and put my hand out. "hi im sam" he took my hand with a smile and shook it. we sat back into our seats awkwardly again. "so what do you want to do with your life?" he asked. i smiled, "i wanna be an author and a director" i said proud of my words. his eyes lit up, "dude! i wanna be a song writer!! we both want something to do with expressing ourselves!!" i got exited and we took eachothers hand and shook eachother. "wow this is great! we had no idea who eachother were but like now its ok!" i smiled and relaxed myself. "so what kind of music are you into?" he asked and pulled out his phone. "oh uhm any kind. i can put something on if you want." i offered and he handed me his phone. i took it and put on the song chill bill. we sat there until the song came on. i sat nervous he might not approve of this song but he turned to me. "dude. i think were blood, because this is my shit!" i lit up like a lantern on a dark night. "seriously?" he nodded.

for weeks we were best frineds. we were eachothers person to call on a dark gloomy night. we were going to go out to hang out, as i checked the time, it was 9pm. i walked out of the house and he sat there waiting for me in his car, he leaned over and opened the door for me and i got in and closed the door, "whats trippin hippie?" i smiled, "nothing much, tweaker" i said as i pulled out my phone. it was tradition, anytime we hung out we had to take a picture together. we took the picture and then i went through my playlist for a song. "i found our song bro" he said taking my phone and looking for the song.

while he did this i was nervous, i tried to grab it back. "uhm can i have my phone back please.." i said obviously trying not to panic. he looked at me. he knew something was wrong. "whats wrong, sammy" he said looking into my soul. "you know you can tell me right?" i hated those words. i leaned back and tried not to tear up, i slowly shook my head no. he set the phone down but didint loosen his grip.

"whats going on, you can tell me" i shook my head, "no youll tell my parents..youll tell our dad.." i said obviously terrified. he took my face into his hands. "sam...i already know whats going on at home for you. i hear it on the phone with you all the time. your safe when your with me. i wont hurt you, i wont hit you, i wont rape you. sam i your big brother." i broke down. those were the words iv been needing to hear sense i was 5. i slowly nodded. he looked through my phone, "this is a situation you can easily get through, just block them ok?" i nodded and he blocked them. he wiped my tears and hugged me. "sammy its going to be ok.." this was dangerous..i was getting attached.

acouple weeks later we were on call together and listening to music together. "hey sam" he slurred from being drunk. i chuckled and didint look up from my writing, "yeah?" i answered. "im gonna move you in with me, get you a job with me and get you your dream car. no one you finna be abused anymore" within those words there was pauses, slurrs and hiccups. i stopped writing, "what?" i was shocked. for years it felt like no one wanted me around. it felt like no one wanted me. it felt like everyone pushed me away. i smiled. "id love that.." he nodded. "ok, as soon as your 15 buddy." i laughed. "ok"

his birthday came around and i was on the phone with him while at the mall. "tommy what the hell do you like" i complained. "rick and morty, reminds me of me and you oh and juice wrld" i laughed. "gotchu" i said and ran to the nearest store like spencers, hottopic or anything similar. "I GOT IT!" i shouted as i got him some shirts, magnets and some other stuff. i made him a hand made letter for his birthday and sealed it up and put it all in a box and wrapped it. "ok im coming back into town next week anyways so ill get it then and we can go do something" i laughed, "perrr" he hated it when i said that. he groane,d "oh no" he complained and laughed and so did I. he was my safe place. he was my home. he was the person i called when i was stranded on the side of the road.

he couldint make it down that week. "sorry, i cant make it this week" he texted. i sighed. "k" i wrote back and looked at his gift that laid on my desk. later that night we got into a argument, "dude shes not worth it! would you stop talking about her?! im sick of hearing, "alley this, alley that" its fucking annoying!" i said and threw something at the wall in anger. "Sam what the hell is your problem!?!" i started to tear up but i choked back because i didint want to argue. i hated that i was so sensitive. "im sorry, im taking my anger out on you.." he sighed, "sam its ok, im sorry for always complaining about her. you deal with enough bitching at home. whats going on tho?" he asked. "i hate my parents.." i said as i cried. "its ok...youll be out soon.." i nodded. "i hope" he sighed, "im going to bed. good night i love you" he never told me that. "love you too tommy" i said and then he hung up. i didint think.

the next day i was at a friends house and got the call..."hey sam..uhm." i heard hesitation. "whats up?" i asked quietly. "tommy uhm..tommy died due to overdose..im sorry for your loss i know he was everything" i cried.

for 8 months after his death i did nothing but cry, and when i wasint crying i was being screamed and yelled at. all i thought was, "i wish my best friend was here to protect me..tell me everything will be alright" i wished he was here...right now i wish he was here..one last hug...

my boy was brown eyes and honey

i had never tasted a love so sweet

forever dripped from his lips and

i wished on the stars for it to be true

my love was patience and understanding

on the days that i could not give my

best, he assured me that it was enough

my baby was home in human form

the person who i thanked god for

making just for me to live beside

but no amount of shooting stars

could make the time work in our favor

and though my heart still beats for him

he is no longer mine to call home

Lost love. Heaven knows that I lost my love before it even began, before I could even grasp it. So, can one say that my love was lost? No, my love left me. He left me and took the hopes and dreams of what I had envisioned for him and me. My love took from me, he cost me everything a young girl could give, could breathe for. My lost love was a pretty brown boy with glistening brown eyes. A knowing smirk and a kind smile. He was unlike all the boys around him, my love had a dominant atmosphere around him. My love was my best friend, the guy who would seek my attention and command it. My love started as the boy who teased me in class, drawing on my arm with a black marker and pulling gently on my hair. My love had my love for many years until he decided to leave me be. For my love had higher and bigger dreams for me. You see, my love saw what I refused to see. I was too good for him, and he was very bad for me. I was the nerdy girl; he was a boy from the streets. But who isn't to say that my love wasn't capable of changing for me if he wanted me? Now, years since he last caught a glance of me, years since I last reached out, I still wonder, what my love is up to now.

Orange hair

The segments fell apart, one by one

The unpeeling

Touching skin to skin

Mouth to mouth

Resuscitated

My life opening up like one of those

Blooms

You see in the pictures

The pictures

We took them

Where did that smile go?

Singing together on the phone

Kissing until our lips were sore

Snuggling close below the setting sun

Oh,

Orange hair

I remember when you were there