day 258

Missed the last train home
learned the meaning of
            trying to find the home in a city that doesn't know your name
           

I don't think I will ever admit to falling in love with you
It is too close to
            trying to find the home in a city that doesn't know your name

day 257

I don't know how I feel today. I hate being completely wrong about someone. In this case, it's my heart and my sisterhood. 

day 256

I talk about you with so much sadness in my tone. I realize I don't love him because I love you and others like you. I am still scared to accept it, so I bring sadness to myself. I'm not embarrassed of being gay, I'm embarrassed that I am still afraid to admit it. To tell these boys I don't want to kiss them not because I don't like them, because I don't like any of them. Maybe not now. I don't know. I don't know if this is because I still draw hearts around your name and cross bow arrows through my head when I hum your favorite words. Sometimes I stop myself from writing poetry about you and your skin and your kiss and the way you make me feel. Sometimes. Other times, I can't help it. I don't talk to you about it because there's no point. We are not two lovers, in any kind of way. We just kiss occasionally when you decide to come back into my life and I hold you when you come to my shows just because I want you to feel how my body effortlessly gives in to your poison. You are slowly killing me.

I woke up on his skin this morning and I only wished I had shared a shitty mattress with your silky skin. And your soft eyes. And your soft soul.

day 255

I hate how I let you absorb me.

All fingernail and rib cage. I haven't stopped thinking of you, or wishing I had woken up to you. I still wish I could see you all the time. Anywhere. We aren't compatible. We are nowhere close to perfect couples and I know they don't exist, but we are not like them. And we will probably never be like them. They are made of nerve and they sleep with their hair in knots. I wake up with my tongue in knots and I am made of clay. I hate this about myself and I hate that about you.  

day 254

my car is back from the shop.

i emptied out my trunk.
my running sneakers. tennis balls. a blanket.
your trash.
more trash.
more trash.
more trash.
i used to treasure you.
more trash.
more trash.
i broke up with you in my car.
more trash.
one time,
we made love in the backseat of my car.
more trash.
trash.
trash.
trash.
i feel so dirty and sad feeling this way about you.
i emptied out my trunk.
empty.

day 253

if i were to organize my life into three components:

I.
capturing the essence of a conversation. the art in speaking and understanding. communicating. i shy away from lips and mouth and teeth and bone. i fear being scraped. falling. not being able to catch myself. to catch my breath. losing consciousness. this all happens when i get wrapped up in your hair.

II.
inertia. continuing to move. continuing to stay. consistency. refusing to change. accepting to grow.

III.
pornography. not simplified as watching a man build an ego with a pretty woman. more as exposing my fears and what i love. who i love and who i want to love. asking girls on dates. leading boys on. shying away from those who call me gorgeous. call me beautiful. call me pretty and i will put you on a shelf and purposely forget to dust you off. i think about laying down fully clothed  and resting my head on my pillow with someone i favor on the other side of my bed. snoring, softly, sound asleep. thinking of better ways to give me the world. this kind of nakedness.

day 252

II.

I don't understand why I fall so easily for anyone who compliments me. Call me beautiful, call me pretty, call me gorgeous. I will let you know where you stand based on which compliment you think suits me best. The pretties stand in the back of the line, because I know you will just want to see me in your bed in the morning. The beautifuls stand in the middle, because it is most genuine. I keep them at a distance. This is from fear of them coming too close and allowing them to get to know me. The gorgeouses stand in the front of the line. They are the lovers who are not afraid to knock down my walls. I will not allow myself to wake up next to them in the morning. You are keeping your distance as well.

day 251

a love letter for almost every person I've wanted to give the world to:

1

I wish you never found your strength from learning how to tie chains around my ankles and locking your fingers around my body

2

It's been about six months since the day I woke up and realized I was no longer in love with you. I thought about you today.

3

You made me realize that I do anything for pretty girls

4

I am in love with you

You leave me completely broken more than whole

I am still in love with you

The first time I let the skin of another woman crack my spine open was after falling asleep in the lace of your arms

5

For about two months,

I let fate decide if we would be happily ever after. In the end, fate decided that I am way too good for you and that I shouldn't even talk to you. Ever.

6

We passive aggressively want to love each other.

We passive aggressively hide it.

7

You are about exactly nine years older than me

8

I told you I loved your poem and you hugged me like you wanted to give me the world

9

I told you I was in love with you and you almost fainted

I wish you did

10

You inspired me to write a part two dedicated to you

day 250

Thank you for teaching me how to be a better poet. A better friend. A better sister. I have learned to stop biting my tongue. To look fear in the eye and tell it to be afraid of me. My heart is as tough as stone and my smile is poison. I am stronger.

day 249

I hope I shed light onto your life. 

That my heart is a crystal and your eyes aren't strained from the sun. I still want to shine when I fall asleep. Hope that my dreams somehow find a way to daylight. 

day 248

he will ask you for your name. and you will tell him to take a ticket and a seat. you realize that you have grown too accustomed to giving people too much of yourself. your name has become a single prayer that has been used on social network profile bios and quoted on tattoo skin. you wonder when people will realize that giving them part of your identity has significantly changed you. you touch his face. you don't bother asking for his name.

day 247

ode to the 19 year old me:

You are just lonely, lovely nonetheless,

and your heart is still broken

still missing pieces

but still able to hold onto chunks of bad relationships and

potential past lovers.

You love like you are running out of breath

and gravity.

You run with arms slightly lifted and spine slightly slumped.

Sometimes you coordinate your bad posture with the bad one night stands with the bad boys who only cared to show you off. Like trophy wife and empty kitchens. Broken white picket fences and untrimmed lawns. The hallway closet is unkempt. Matches your mane. You wonder if anyone could ever love you with a heart filled of lion and a city built from shadows. You watch your own silhouette dance after midnight. You've come to realize that you are a ghost. You are haunted by the chances you did not take and the kisses you should have not gone for. You blame your exhaustion on your anemia. You learn you are hiding your sadness. You compare your love life to a curse and your beauty to a short shot of luck. You still don't know how to take compliments so you say thank you and fall in love with whoever looks at you with their hearts in their eyes. You keep your eyes to the ground and hope the gravity will lessen the fall. It works for you because your walls are cement and their efforts are grains of sand. They will try to wake up next to you in the morning and they will smile. Sometimes they will kiss you on the forehead to try to change your mind. You drift back to sleep. You wake up when they are gone. You leave before they make a home out of you.

day 246

Love becomes family 

Family becomes same pulse and same breath. We hold hands like best friends and strangers saving lives.

day 245

Don't sleep with someone if they don't own any books

After sharing his bed and skin, I let the sun dance along my body. I live for soaking it all in and taking life by its horns. I stole one of his novels. I am hoping he won't realize. I continue to find myself hoarding bits and pieces of every type of lover. I still continue to hold all the damage. 

day 244

This is the first heartbreak poem I've written since December

The first time I let the skin of another woman

crack my spine open,

I fell asleep in the lace of her arms. 

My mornings have not been the same. 

I wake up and roll over to see the void in my mattress. 

This has become a bad habit and I still sleep with my hair wet.

The sound of loneliness has become a song I've grown sick of.

She doesn't know what she wants. 

I know I do not want any of her at this point. 

My body has grown accustomed to being bitter. 

day 243

I don't understand why I give my heart away like I have nothing to lose. My heart is a mermaid throwing skipping stones and hoping for the echoes to match the beat.

day 242

life lessons
learning to live
not just existing
or surviving
leaning towards my words
leaning on my words
I write to teach
and to learn more about myself
to teach myself how to live
and not just exist
life lessons

day 241

Tuesday

Spent tonight with the hearts I grew up with

We all are the same

Old souls and happy hands

We watch movies and feel the heartbreak we used to heal in high school

I fear I would lose the crazies and the comfort

only to return back into the arms of the truth

You will never grow out of complete comfort

This warms my heart

day 240

young

I go to shows

We drink beforehand

Something about easing our bodies 

and preparing ourselves to not feel the pain

Sometimes I go to shows and let all my emotions out for a night

It feels good to forget how my body just dances and doesn't stop

and goes on and on and on and 

the pain just disappears

He drinks so he becomes less nervous around me

I drink to ease the awkwardness

They drink to join us

We dance to ease our bodies

day 239

praise those who spoon feed hope to your newborn soul

on the days you feel like wilting

remember there is a heart to mend your garden

you are loved

you are full of teeth and shoulder

I press my hand onto your back and I feel the spine in you reawaken

This is how sisterhood is born

day 238

My ex boyfriend told me not to fall for girls

Said,

they break your heart twice as hard.

I didn't listen to him because he's always been a jealous lover.

So am I.

So now I don't know if these women are hurting me on purpose or if I care too much.

I feel bad.

Maybe I wasn't a good girlfriend after all.

day 237

Friday

Leftover Chinese

You don't speak your native tongue

You don't know the origin of your blood

They tell you to never lose your culture

They tell you to bleed proud

and bleed openly

They tell you to cut your tongue

Pass it over to your ancestors

Believe you are not a visitor in your motherland

Leftover Chinese

No tongue for hunger left

day 236

HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS

WHERE YOUR BODY BECOMES ONE WITH THE WIND

WHERE YOUR SOUL CAN GET LOST BUT FEEL FOUND AT THE SAME TIME

WHERE THE VEINS IN YOUR PALMS MATCH THE BLUEPRINTS TO YOUR JOURNEY

I've dreamt of holding hands with new cities

and kissing strangers with foreign names

I've always wanted to be a part of someone else's new beginning

way before I even knew where I belonged

After memorizing lips that belonged to abandoned households
I had never felt a sense of belonging until I realized the absence of love around me
I REALIZED I HAD FILLED THE VOID IN MY HEART AFTER WAKING UP NEXT TO A HOME I CALLED STRANGER

Sometimes I've forgotten I've made a home here

That my heart is a gypsy with a destination

First stop:

to go back to the place that called me DAUGHTER when I forgot the meaning of family

So
WHENEVER YOU FEEL LOST
Remember your soul was born in the name of a river that has grown strong enough to write its own history 

day 235

I am writing this poem as I wait for my take out Chinese food.

Today,

my boss made me feel super low about myself by telling his friends/customers all about how I cannot speak my language and other bullshit. I mean, I write about it and I get lost in the fact that I am just a visitor to my own homeland, but it is such a mean act for someone to actually gain cool points from it. It's like high school all over again, when the bitchy pretty girls compliment you half heatedly, and snarl behind your back. Why do we gain confidence in kicking someone's soul in the stomach? You don't gain any lost butterflies. You just drain someone of love.

day 234

Home is where the heart is

I've dreamt of holding hands with new cities

and kissing strangers with foreign names

I've always wanted to be a part of someone else's new beginning

I open my eyes and I let the wind of my city kiss my face

Sometimes I've forgotten I've made a home here

That my heart is a gypsy with a destination

To go back to where we started 

day 233

I WANT TO LOVE YOU
but not because I am lonely
or because you are lonely
or because everyone we know
are in love
or because I forget how love feels
or because love smacked me in the face this morning when I woke up automatically thinking about you

I JUST WANT TO LOVE YOU

day 232

your ex boyfriend still makes you cry
you still love him
not as deep
not like before

day 231

When your mother invites you to your molester's wedding

do not scream
do not carve forgiveness into your roots

When your mother tells your sister you are never fully there

do not tell her you've scrubbed every part of yourself clean everyday for the past 8 years
do not let her think it is nothing other than teen angst
do not swim through the glaciers in her stare to deliver a confession

do not stop her from enjoying the joining of two lovers
do not forget she has forgotten the way a honey moon glows

When your sister saves your life for the fifth time
do not hide in fear
do not shiver
do not let your backbone fall flat

do not forget you are not alone
you are not the only one to surrender to the poison of a coma
you are not the only one who wants to die a dreamer

When you realize that you have stopped changing the hers in your poems to hims
do not hang yourself amongst the other skeletons in your closet
do not stop yourself from telling your best friend that you love her
do not let the name of your past lovers leave a bad taste in your mouth
do not skin yourself alive
do not stop yourself from enjoying the joining of two lovers
do not apologize for being afraid
for being human

When your first boyfriend hits you for the first time
do not tremble

When your second boyfriend tells you your sex is not godly
do not pray

When your next boyfriend does not want to believe in your rape
do not explain
do not bother
do not ask him for salvation

When a boy makes a rape joke on your first date
do not scream
do not carve forgiveness into your roots
you are one hundred years of stretch and growth
You are Autumn
you are leave
you are thicker stems when you kiss the sun
you are heart filled of Giant Sequoia
you are capable of loving with the largest lungs
you are breath
you are human

When the girl of your dreams is sitting in your audience
be proud that you stopped changing the pronouns in your poems

When your sister's therapist already knows that you are broken
do not force yourself to tell her your whole story
do not force yourself to fight the demons in your throat
do not apologize for being afraid
for being human

you are not ready

When your mother invites you to your molester's wedding

do not scream
do not forget she has forgotten how a honey moon glows

do not hang yourself amongst the other skeletons in your closet

do not force yourself to tell her your whole story
do not force yourself to fight the demons in your throat

do not apologize for being afraid
for being human

you are not ready

day 230

I think that I've found the person I've written these love poems for. I will say that I'm surprised and a bit embarrassed at how fast my heart has dived in, but I don't think I will stop it. I don't think I will go for it either. My heart is the first time I've ever scraped my knee cap and I am waiting days on end for it to heal.

day 229

You are made of bone and the stinging words from bad conversations
We talk to each other like we will figure out which one is most insecure
and I keep all your backhanded compliments in my back pocket at all times

I gave up my dreams to dream of falling in love with boys who had no clue what I looked like without make up on
I dreamed of filling the void in my soul with the touch of broken lovers
I would sleep like I didn't need to wake up and make something of myself

This is for the high school girls who have yet to know  their worth

day 228

manic pixie girl/9

grow a garden out of me
i listen to you wish for more light
i cannot give you more of me if i am wilting
if i am slowly losing it
if the soil i plant my feet on falls flat

grow a garden out of me
train my roots to dance to your sway
i am watching you in the wind