If this was a moment,
if moments were real;
I would touch her leg
and lick her chest.
I would cover her in spit.
And if this was a moment
I would never let her go,
and I would honestly be happy
and never let her go.

I want to save everyone.
...But maybe I'm the one who needs the saving...

I’m blistering.
Subtly taking in
Poison and alcohol (with water in between).
And I’m playing the keys raw
So I can savor the music (like red wine and tears and dreams).
And I’m laughing hysterically
Since it’s the only hysterical
I will allow myself to be.

I think It is difficult to be honest with ourselves.
I kneeled in tall weeds between Cottonwood trees
And wondered what it was I should be feeling.
Does anyone really have it figured out?
Or are we all just saving face…

Today I want to break things.
Today I want to run fast so nothing can catch me.
I want to be still for a minute.
I want to be still for just one minute.
Tomorrow I will try to be happy.
But today I just want to be angry.

My hands resemble my mother’s.
And my smile is almost her's exactly.
But my heart is my father’s.
It is skeptical and questioning;
It is covered in defenses (for everyone else).
Harboring notions that cause it to yield
Without warning,
As if made of the sound in her laugh
When she’s nervous.

So I’m always left crumbling unexpectedly

I don't know who to be for you anymore. Because I can't be myself and I've never mastered being someone else.
My heart is so interwoven with yours that this brokenness is absurdley enhanced.