light - 06/12/16

paint it on my face
tattoo in on my arms
shout it from the rooftops
but don't carve it in my skin
i needn't bleed for this
scream for this
hurt for this
not this light
not this love

at this point it's just pathetic - 06/11/16

it’s been over two weeks of
tugging and
twisting and
pulling and
turning and
waiting and
examining and
stopping and
starting but
the knots you left in my stomach
still aren’t any closer to being untied.
i've tried and
i've tried and
i've tried and
i'm tired of
tugging and
twisting and
pulling and
turning and
waiting and
examining and
stopping and
starting but
i'm still just as tied up in you
as i was two weeks ago.

still - 06/11/16

it's 3 am
and the second hand of the clock on the wall
is almost as loud
as my heartbeat
in my ear
against the pillow
and the mouse scratching an escape
is almost as harsh
as my breathing,
as the strangely cold June air,
as the cat waiting to
torture
that poor mouse more.
it's 3 am
and I am trying to pretend
that I have diamonds rolling down my cheeks,
that snowflakes are falling on the pillow,
that there's a rain cloud in doors,
that the cat has been licking my face,
that it's allergies,
that the ocean misses me as much as I miss it
and sent me a salty water breeze to show it,
that the ceiling is leaking,
that it's not 3 am two weeks later
and I'm still finding new reasons
to cry over you when
it's 3 am.

Rusalka - 06/10/16

Lament those poor sweet pixies
living in my veins,
kept captive in capillaries until
they made their stains;
who, one night, were downed in wine,
drowned in oxygen;
who found their release,
yet surfaced again.
Lament the gentle spirits who once
had only wanted
to nourish the fields, but
became the haunted.
Lament the loss, lament the night,
lament what remains:
lingering lines and loud lies
now plaguing my veins.

Blue - 06/09/16

I always loved
the ocean
and swore it was
green, grey, turquoise, bronze.
I always loved
the sky
at sunset
when it's
orange, pink, red, yellow.
I always loved
blueberries
pureed and purple.
But I never knew
I could fall in love with a color
until I saw
you in blue.

Distortion - 06/08/16

Storm clouds and sneaker waves
slip shadows over all
my thoughts and memories,
kaleidoscopic fragments of
fleeting feelings
fall through
quivering fingers and shatter

but the blood dripping
from your lips
could just as easily have come from
a cherry popsicle.

Meteoroid - 06/07/16

I always thought that I was going to
burn,
disintegrate into a billion pieces,
fall apart,
lose cohesion,
scatter like ash,
as nothing large enough to impact,
as a meteor.

But as the surface looms
I think I might
survive.

you aren't there - 06/06/16

You are in everything.
Mingled in pronunciation,
intertwined in every verse,
hiding in
the sunset,
the sunrise,
the clouds,
the heat,
the wind,
the chill,
cursive s's,
dark chocolates,
twisted around all the little
phrases
I picked up from
too much
not enough
time spent stumbling
around you.
Your weeds
blossom all over
my heart
but you don't think they're
flowers.
You are everywhere,


but when I look

Sometimes I Wish - 06/04/16

Sometimes, "I Wish I Was A Girl" by Counting Crows plays and I'm never sure if it's okay for me to sing along or if that'll give someone the wrong impression, even if it's just me, singing alone in my bedroom.

Sometimes, I wish I was a boy so I didn't have an existential crisis every time I hear my high-pitched voice or want to bind or a store clerk tells me I'm welcome to use any changing room .... on the ladies' side.

Sometimes, I wish I was a girl so that I didn't have to explain what I "really" meant when I said, "I am so gay for Rey."

Sometimes, I wish I was a boy so that I could hate my curvy hips without feeling like I've disgraced the entire body positivity movement.

Sometimes, I wish I was a girl because my mother always wanted a daughter ad I can't help thinking, would it really be so tough to just suck it up and give her this? My honest existence and happiness aren't that important.

Sometime, I wish I was a boy so that I didn't feel guilty over the little hint of joy I get when anyone mistakes me for one or addresses me as "sir" on the bus.

Sometimes, I wish I was a girl so that no one could accuse me of not being a feminist or of forsaking all the joys of womanhood or of no longer being a suitable role model for young women in physics. Look, what the young people need to know is that they don't have to hide any aspect of themselves to succeed in science, that electrons have no bias against my gender identity, that mathematical proofs will still be as logical no matter who you choose to be, that experiments will work the same no matter who runs or analyses them, and any professor, adviser, or peer who says otherwise can come talk to me. I've got poems and rage set to burn pages and pages, whatever it takes to make them see.

Sometimes, I wish I was a boy so that you'd take me seriously.

Sometimes, "I wish I was a girl, so that you would believe me."

I thought we were - 06/04/16

a pair of binary stars
caught in each other's
gravity,

but the laws of physics
don't seem to apply to you,
just me:

spinning, spiraling
around you seemingly
endlessly

while you shine, shimmer, startle,
off in your own
galaxy.