I’m never gonna wait that extra twenty minutes to text you back, and I’m never gonna play hard to get when I know your life has been hard enough already. When we all know everyone’s life has been hard enough already it’s hard to watch the game we make of love, like everyone’s playing checkers with their scars, saying checkmate whenever they get out without a broken heart. Just to be clear I don’t want to get out without a broken heart. I intend to leave this life so shattered there’s gonna have to be a thousand separate heavens for all of my flying parts.

This is my heartbeat like yours, it is a hatchet It can build a house or tear one down.

she's wondering how many women are walking around this world feeling the tingling of their amputated wings remembering what it was to fly to sing

My mouth is a fire escape. The words coming out don’t care that they are naked. There is something burning in there.

The trauma said, ‘Don’t write these poems. Nobody wants to hear you cry about the grief inside your bones.

You can find me on the moon waxing and waning. My heart full of petals, every single one begging 'Love me, love me, love me. Whoever I am. Whoever I become.'

How many wars will it take us to learn that only the dead return?