Coming back to me at the concert
During the song
I bought a single ticket, but I didn’t realize I don’t go anywhere alone anymore…

One day soon, we’ll dance too close, let the sweat drip on my tongue.
Soon, we’ll arrive. Shiny, not to cover what we are, but to scream what we cannot in the daylight…

There’s a very specific moment when you realize that the vision you had for your future is now
Dust….

How does your hand feel on my neck, hot. My shoulder wants to guard it like a warrior, up to the ear. The bear warms it until it’s moldable…

days are different now
one big waiting room
at your therapists office
how are you?

Why—
If everyone is pinned to their homes Touch Starved

Why—
If texting until three is the same as making out at two

The quiet loneliness of my 20s was almost sacred when I think of how I worshipped Escape.
Stumbling into the happy hour,
Stumbling into the bar where I knew no one and acted like I didn’t care…

As she stood in front of him
Loving
Every one of the hers that loved before stood in a line waiting to ask “Why?”

my anxieties wrap around me like a too-warm blanket.
my eyes closed too-tight with the windows too-shut.

Driving home from a moment with her, unplanned, I had the money to eat a meal that was once saved for special occasions
Or lunch specials only because it was cheaper that way.

She threw the blinds open
Brightness spilling into the room we all shared
I yelled & she yelled back,
Bratty and rude
like a sister

There are worlds inside of us that only make sense when we remember how bad things used to be. We could go years, decades not remembering, but feeling a part of ourselves, not understanding it, feeling confused and lonely for it.

I don’t not remember the self-inflicted nausea of my early twenties that I blamed on everyone but me.
Hardened sandbags strapped to my sides, fastened with T3 text messages that I sent 3 hours ago.
You never replied.

Child like romance crushing the kid in me. I held your angst, stacked stones on my mule back, aged as quickly as I was a teen.

Can you tell me what it's like
To be open
To crack open
To twist and rub your oil-coated insides until something turns you over?

Hands out, clasped, tight.
Steel soft stranger leg jambed on mine.
Tips tickle tip toes
Tracing romance up my thighs
A hundred times, a hundred times.

The void in my stomach, in my heart, has edges that glow where flames once were.