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acts of rebellion

saying I love you

but quietly, in a crowd

listening instead of waiting to speak

not now, mouth, shhhh not so loud

leaving a space for anyone who needs it

holding space for someone's trauma,

carrying space for your own.

not saying yes and instead, being alone.

taking off your coat to warm a friend

not staying to watch a movie until the very end

because we know the way it works:

they leave her, and she's only remembered for her looks

confronting your worn out heart

and letting it rest.

fighting off the urge to always present

the broken pieces as best.

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she takes pieces

of me, little by little little bites sinking into old wounds every time and I let her because just like the trees open their hands to the snow I do love the idea of dying slowly loved and afraid and b

all she does

is write little books, is what I heard the husband of a friend say once. that's all she does, all day he said and she laughed and I nodded and felt my shoulders sink and remembered her laugh as I sat

Valentines Day

Bring in your dead, she said. So I dragged my lovers out of the warm cocoons of my sheets out through my crooked legs and my sweat-soaked arms and watched as they clutched not at the bed, but at their