But I'm told not to harden myself.

Not to let the "next guy suffer"

Not to take it out on them

Don't misplace

But no one says "thank you" when they take

No one says "sorry" when they take

They just take and you carry them on your skin 

The funk, the hurt, 

you're expected to wrap it all up, tuck it away, and continue to give yourself

Piece. by. piece.

We're walking around here, beautiful stained glass

Giving ourselves to those who just want to possess

To break off a piece to take home and stare at for a while before throwing you away.

How is that every fair?--being an expectant giver, regardless of the pain?

I am angry.

But even my anger erupts in flowers 

The moon probably cries during the wintertime

She spends all season, listening to us 

wail for the summer days

when her time is brief 

How can I spell myself into you

Become a litany on your skin

But you still refuse to see me?

Rub honeysuckle and mint into her bones

Let sit

Watch her burst and blossom into life

dancing on purples 

Praise her

For "One of Those" Days

I'll bring you a mason jar of sunflowers 

Quietly bobbing their heads to the sun

Whisper "I love you"

My good messengers

Gentle giant. Delicate monster

Release me from your grasp

You ain't shit but chicken feathers

scattered over broken glass

I ain't ever been afraid of you

Life's a...

Little seashell

your sand-peach and

your lily white stripes

So beautiful

Put me up to your ear and

hear the ocean

Wind whipping through my 

hollowed insides

Listen to my emptiness 

my strange song

Tuck my in your pocket 

or toss me back in the sand 

Forget about little seashell 

Her strange sad songs

Taking you to the sea

Her depths swallowed her whole