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you call swallowing my sorrow
an act of self-denial;
i call it encasing freedom
where i can breathe it the most
where it can swirl as a tempest,
as a hurricane, reminding myself
how it is to feel the things
which spill out of my mouth
broken and gasping, finding
their way to a page. do you
know how it is to make others feel
but to never feel yourself?
it is a void, an abyss, an emptiness
without the feeling of staring up
at the ceiling at night making pictures
out of cracks and feeling time slip;
by swallowing my sadness
i am taking that nothingness
already cavernous inside of me
and planting something in it,
i am teaching myself how
to create swirling nebula out
of pain. i am my own
cradle of newborn stars.
OCTOBER IS / apple cider heartbreak sealed with honey-lined lips / palms pressed to the earth worshiping the turning of the tides / sunshine mixed with rainfall mixed with spending wishes on people who were meant to leave / stars, neverending stars / waking up to everything dying and calling it beautiful
meeting you was the opposite
of the big bang;
here i was, a universe of my own,
full of stars and stardust swirling
around me like a tempest of creation,
so full of everything a girl
could possibly dream of and yet,
too spread out. i’ve always wanted
forever at my fingertips without
fear of spreading myself
but now, for all of those grandiose
dreams of extending into eternity,
you have condensed the world into
a single point: namely, the one
where my lips meet yours;
can’t you see what you’ve done to me?
you’ve taken a galaxy of a girl and
given her something to collapse into.
and now i am a single point of singularity,
of infinite possibility, only waiting for
you to set me alight.
we’ve been circling each other—
like wolves gone hungry, like stars gone nuclear, like vines gone beserk;
like lighting & thunder, like cyclones & whirlwinds, like earthquakes & after;
like heart follows break, like bone follows fracture, like lips follow gaze;
like your name is inevitable, like my name is gullible, like our name is regrettable.
i am not a girl too big for my britches nor a body waiting for heartbreak. my dreams are not made to shatter and my nightmares are not made to come to life.
i am strong enough to do all that i wish, even if it is to make kingdoms crumble and symphonies blossom. stars sing when i rise and do not hold their breath to wait for my fall
i am not your heartstrung girl on a pedestal waiting for a man on his high horse to whisk me away and pluck away my joy and devour it. i am not your did and you are not aeneas because we both know they were made up to fulfill someone’s idea of splitting sorrow and that’s not what has been written for me.
i am not made to be broken. i am not made to be broken. not by you, not by anyone, not even myself because i was made a whole woman and that i will remain.
I WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO TURN ME INTO A SACRIFICE FOR YOUR OWN SALVATION.