In My Dream

In my dream I am crawling
My limbs are stiff but strong, arms packed with smooth, firm muscle overtaking my shoulders and neck
My fingernails are caked with dirt and blood and something yellow but I carry myself on
Amused but not surprised by my strength.
I have a purpose, and my body stands warm against the steady breeze
I can smell you
I can taste you on the smooth of my long, twisted tongue
My mouth is dripping and my teeth are clenching
You are nowhere around, not buried in the dirt or blowing among the trees
But I know I can feel you.
I open my eyes and I crawl across the covers to your still, pale body
Your skin is like marble and I carefully trace the small bodies of water that hold your pooling blood
My nails are clean and my arms are thin
And I am cold without your warmth
I slip the weight of you onto my hands and you fall through like rain water
I am digging into the mattress, turning over pillows, ripping through the bed sheets.

I could never really hold onto you,
Even in my dream.

I Could've Stayed With You

I could've stayed with you.

I could have dried out and shrunk up, like fresh grass plucked from the dirt by some toddler's chubby hands, thrown onto the cement and forgotten, easily, as the next distraction came.
I could have fallen under the weight of you, the weight of us, that only I could feel and believe in and hold up.
I could have rested quietly, small, at the foot of the bed while I waited for your eyes to fall on my half-eaten heart.
I could have grown stale from not being sealed up properly, the cheap plastic only loosely fitting my untouched flesh, when you forgot about me
Forgot about me at stop lights that last a little too long for eyes to meet and lips to touch
Forgot about me across from you at the diner while your black coffee and yellow eggs went cold
Forgot about me while the words and the air were still moving from my lungs and heart and mind and mouth.

Thank God I didn't stay with you.

Women Are Permeable

She carried herself with a meek sense of confidence that somehow seemed to surprise her conversation partners when her mouth remained tightly shut, straight teeth like bricks holding  in the words floating around her throat. Her shoulders were dusted with freckles, marking careless summers in a field somewhere, where the hot sun and company's laughter made her forget to utilize a tree every once in a while. Her long legs appeared to permanently house old, scattered bruises nestled deep within her paper skin, and exactly three mosquito bites that told anyone who noticed them "I stayed outside just the right amount". Her heedful heart beat cautiously in her chest, with great concern for a sudden and dramatic burst of emotion that might force stagnant blood out of the holes that had been so carefully stitched back up.

She, like most women, was permeable.

A man sees me across the room
He will drink me in with his eyes
and shape my insides into something he thinks might save him
And I will exhale my insecurities
Waiting for gravity to unhinge my chest
And bear to him my fragile bones.
His eyes will peel back
His face will sink in
His heart will set low
And his mouth will open and sing to me the disappointment he feels
In the long limbs and messy hair that let the light out too soon.

Loving You...When You're You

Fingers mindlessly playing together and I carry this secret with me
Across the street,
Through the farmer's market,
Your fingers whispering stories to my skin
Time slides across the sunny skyline
Like melting butter across a pan
I am squinting into the sun to see you
But I forgot that you are the sun.
Your voice is true and deep
And I want to wrap myself in the warmth of your words.
"I love you" tastes like the strawberry jam
They are selling from the cracked glass jars
Carefully placed on the crooked table-
It seems a little silly
And sounds a little creaky
But from across the black hot parking lot,
It looks like a secret between two smiling mouths.

Two Years

"Tomorrow I am going to make an appointment with a counselor". I penned this in my journal almost exactly two years ago. I remember this moment well. I was living in the dorms, it was a late week night and my roommate was in her loft, exhaling heavily indicating that she was deep into sleep. I was suppressing sobs and feeling helpless. This was a low point in my life, although I can't quite remember why. I had spent the early evening walking around alone in the rain, with my hood up and my heart heavy as I passed smiling faces, laughing and running together to someplace dry and warm. There have been a lot of similar moments since that one, wet and cold. Standing, walking, biking, driving alone - feeling like I'm standing behind some fogged up, murky window looking out at bright, crisp, and clear happiness. "Simple and happy - what is that, and will I ever have it?" Something else that has appeared in my journal over and over.

What happened after that night of dark thoughts and hopeless feelings? Why did I never make that appointment? I can't quite remember the next morning. I imagine myself waking up to the natural light of the sun, enjoying the crunch of snow under my boots while wrapped up to my neck in warmth, eating a warm and filling breakfast, chatting with my friends, and convincing myself that I was okay. I wonder how many times I've done that over the last two years?

I am often times frightened of my own dark thoughts. They are starting to swallow me whole, chewing up and spitting back out my relationships and future. When I reflect back on my writings, I am shocked at how long it took me to connect the dots. Denial is a powerful, blinding thing - but now it's time to take back my happiness and whatever else has run away since then.

Loving You...In Your Depressive State

What happened to your eyes?
They've gone away for a while.
Words pour from my mouth excitedly
In anticipation of seeing you again.
But my face is clean, cold glass to you
And my words are rocks falling hard.
"I love you", I say, tender and quiet.
You mirror my words but the sound is muffled
Because I'm watching the shadow loom over your face
I'm watching the heaviness weigh you to the ground.
I grab at your hands but your veins turn black
And I watch in horror as the poison trickles downwards,
Thick and hot.
I'm trying to breathe you in,
But when you exhale ash fills my mouth.
I choke on my words trying to find you
But I can hear the bones in us both grating to dust.
What happened to your eyes?
I used to feel you moving.
I can't remember the last time you've stirred.