she grabs her stomach
and it crumbles beneath
her fingers like
sand
help her.
she is bare
help her.
she is open and the gaping
hole is an eraser mark that she cannot
fill in with her eyes.
her hands are still reaching
and the look on her face is stretching
out her lips in a way that i never imagined
and still there is nothing between her palms
but breeze
help her.
she is void of all
help her.
she is trying
help her
she is crying and i promise
you,
she is scared

tidbits

(flattening
fattening
my fear of my own fingers
is something hard
to explain)

he holds up his hands like
they are weapons
like he is tainted by their
presence
(does he know what they are capable of?
does he know what they will do?)

the only thing worse than not
getting what you want
is getting what you want
and being unsure
if its what you wanted
i am scared to put these words
on paper because i'm afraid
it will make them more true
(as if in silence they are bred
into nothingness; nothing
breeds lack-existence)

the chase is so much
better than the prize
because in the chase you can lose
and you can quit
and in the prize
i feel so locked in
i feel so defined
i want natural
i want wave
i want smooth
do not confine me in a pressure
cooker
because i promise i will run
i promise i will run

the saddest thing
is these are things i cannot say to you
because i don't know if they are true
or if they are fabricated
in the dark folds of my mind
where all my insecurities and fears
lie and meet and laugh at my failures
and my false success

why are you so perfect
why can i not see
why do i not feel
and yet i do
my lack of understanding
drives me crazy
and yet i continue on
as if i'm not staggering.
is this normal?
am i
supposed
to be this way?
i find myself
thinking
thoughts
that i am embarrassed
of
i am supposed to be nice
not a monster
i am supposed to be nice
not a monster
and yet you see me as nice
but inside
i am monstrous
yes inside
i am monstrous

pull me apart for yourself

jumbled cries

you don't have to do all the work
i will do work
i'm happy to do work
i tried to let you in
but you let the opportunity pass by
did you not see it?
or did you see it and overthink?
did you see it and dodge?
i gave you time
i gave you space
i gave you looks

there is no more time for speculation
but i'm too afraid to act
what is going on inside your head
i cannot tell

i needed to write poetry
that night
but i didn't

we run away so quickly from what we want
as if our life is a circle
as if we are running towards it
why do we run away?
why am i so afraid?

don't get that close to me
don't get too close to me
or i will push you away
or i will push you away

i've done it before
and regretted it
i'll do it again
and regret it once more

i don't know if i should tell you this
but sometimes when i'm tired i don't even brush my teeth
i know you probably think its disgusting
and my dentist reprimands me
but my bed looks so inviting
and i am willing to loose a cavity
for a dream

i don't know if i should tell you this
but when i asked you if you played guitar
i already knew the answer
it was pretense just you see
polite fluff to muffle my interest
i didn't want to scare you away

i don't know if i should tell you this
but i'm a tad bit scared of you
because i have what you might call
a fear of proximity and sometimes
when my fingers get too close together
i scream

i don't know if i should tell you this
but i really like you
and i think you like me too
but i'm afraid
do you hear?
i'm afraid

i don't know if i should tell you this
but sometimes when i write emails
i edit them and look up at the clock
and see that half an hour has passed by
in the time that it has taken me to delete
and retype and i haven't even noticed
too preoccupied in nailing the right words down for you

i don't know if i should tell you this
but every time i get a good response back
my heart flies out of my ribs
and i have to stop my smile from hitting
the top of my skull because
i do not want to get overexcited
because overexcitement leads to disappointment
and disappointment to tears

i don't know if i should tell you this
but i wish that i could see you
i don't know if i should tell you this
but i'm afraid of what you think of me
i don't know if i should tell you this
but i sense you on a radar
i don't know if i should tell you this
but i want you to know
i don't know if i should tell you this
but you already know
i don't know if i should tell you this
but i'm frightened that you know
i don't know if i should tell you this
but you know already, don't you?

if you dug a hole under each word i wrote
to you
i think you would find yourself tumbling
through the center of the earth.
out through the ear of the sky
you'd skid between the stars
the rounding of your lips
astonished at the depth

each one is like a pithole,
the ground beneath
is endless

do you step carefully?
do you tiptoe? skirting
is and yous
not to mention ours.
do you avoid ours?
and what about soons?
and knows?
especially knows?
most surely likes?
as if one footstep
could plunge you under
in a breath

the joy of the way
the pitter patter rain
drops spell out your
name on the window pane
is something i have
never quite been able to
muster up in words

the fire in the back
and forth of lines
alighting on your tongue
as if (fledglings) you
could swallow them
but they just up and fly

the slowness in the taste
of bitter down to socks
when the room between
your toes is big
enough to pin your happiness
and your eyes can't see
past your nose
for the fog

the zinger at the close
that falls flat in desiring
though stretched up
to the height of
all its strength