I Think That If You Were To Melt

I think that if you were to melt

You’d melt like sugar

Sticky-sweet

Molten—golden; 

Flaking on my lips and fingers

You’d melt like ice cream

Slow dribbling spilling seeping 

Brimming over the goblet

White wine (not red) 

seductively sweet

You’d melt like honey pouring 

Viscous and luminous 

Like your eyes in the sun 

Ah—the sun! 

The light—your light—

Your warmth like the sun

Like apricity—

Like sunbursts after the tempest

Golden sunshine spilling over

Like warm hands cradling me 

you touch me and

I’m burning

melting

for you.

Snaggle-Toothed Smile

TW: abusive relationship, grooming, death

Wolf is knocking on the front door

Sharp sharp teeth in a snaggle-toothed smile

Come here, little rabbit, let us play 

Come here, little rabbit, for I’ll stay here awhile

Wolf brings food to me every day

Come, little rabbit, I’ve come to play 

Wolf brings gifts to me every day

Come, little rabbit, have this beautiful bouquet

Wolf combs my fur for me every day

Protects me and never leaves me alone 

Careful, little rabbit, it’s dangerous outside 

Careful, little rabbit, don’t be on your own 

Wolf tells me how lucky I am every day

That he takes care of me, little rabbit 

And then he smiles that snaggle-toothed smile

Oh, little rabbit, you could become a habit 

Wolf accidentally hurt me today 

He asks me and asks me why did you make me do it? 

Feather-light kisses upon each wound

Snow white rabbit has become blood red rabbit

Wolf smiled that smile today 

Sharp sharp teeth with a snaggle-toothed smile 

Asked me, are you afraid of me? 

Run, little rabbit, run, run to the wild

Wolf didn’t come back today. 

Wolf didn’t give me gifts today. 

Wolf didn’t give me food today. 

My only companion was gone today. 

Wolf was oh so tender today. 

Wolf apologized for not coming yesterday. 

Oh, little rabbit, you will never be free.

Wolf killed me so gently today. 

gilded

gilded like priceless treasure 

but gold is so cold and 

so heavy to bear so plate 

it in unbreakable steel 

don’t let warm hands 

melt soft metal like honey 

oozing dripping spilling 

over like a brimming cup 

of wine trickling through and

staining the ground with 

gold, gold, gold like a

vein of fool’s gold and 

sunsets as they bleed into night and 

leaves in the autumn and 

the hourglass’s sands and 

the eyes of a deity who only 

watches the passing of time 

coldly—

heavily—

softly—

like the sun watching over 

the demise of the earth 

the solemn unraveling 

into dust and stars. 

Oh, darling—

You have been hurting 

For a very long time. 

I am sorry that you have spent your life

Saying “I’m sorry” for others

I’m sorry you’ve spent your life 

Feeling like you need to be more palatable

To be perfect for others 

Because you can’t be perfect for yourself.

Because you don’t want to be a waste of space

Because to be unproductive is to be useless

Oh, darling—

You have been hurting 

For a very long time

Haven’t you? 

You want to hold the world because it is beautiful

But you are too loud, too demanding, too much. 

they try to drown you because you are beautiful

For living unapologetically. 

Oh, darling—

You do not need to be less loud 

Less hopeful

Less perfect. 

You have been grieving the loss 

of the beautiful world

Because they have tried to drown you. 

Oh, darling—

You are not too much

But just enough.

Because you’re beautiful for living as you are

And perfect for loving the world as you do.

You have been hurting 

for a very long time

You have so much love to give—

So let others love you too. 

You have always

Been good enough. 

fragments

I see you in fragments first, 

like the broken shards of an 

ancient mirror; the crinkle of

your eyes when you smile at me 

In its delicate elegance of 

hesitant joy. 

Then I see you, the whole of you; 

Like the pieces have been 

Rearranged, not a mirror but 

A painting that reveals your

beauty in your actions and

your words. 

How rarely we perceive our true 

worth in others' eyes--the light we 

carry without ever trying. You 

Look at your reflection and do 

Not see the beautiful being 

Whom I love. 

You’ve cut yourself on the shards

Of those you’ve tried to heal, 

Because they did not want 

Your quiet kindness. Yet 

You still dare to love with your

Entire being. 

Perhaps that is what I see in you—

A heart that longs to heal

The broken parts of the world

Faltering, cautious, yet despite 

Its stumbling, perfect in

Every way. 

So every day I choose this

To love you, to cradle every 

Delicate piece, to love you

Not despite your “brokenness” 

But because of every part that

Makes you.

Love, —

I’ve always wondered why people start their letters with “dear”. Were the first people to write letters friends? Lovers? Family? How close were they to spill their hearts upon a piece of paper, all starting with the word “dear”? 

I’m not going to start this with “dear”. You don’t deserve that. You never were my dear. Perhaps we could’ve, in another world, in another time. But not now. Not here. 

Is it possible to be heartbroken without any words being spoken? To crush hope without a noise? I always thought it’d be louder, bigger, greater, yet here I end with barely a whimper. 

I don’t know why I’m writing this. I should be over you. I thought I was over you. Yet each time I see you, there’s a pain in my heart, a twinge in my soul. You were the one who decided to stop talking to me, yet wherever you look at me, there’s something odd in your gaze. 

I don’t get it. Why? Every time I think it’s over, you talk to me—the barest conversation—and I do this all over again. You build me up then throw me down, all without realizing it. 

And I hate myself for it. I hate this feeling, this emotion that I can’t control. I hate that I know that it won’t work, yet I so desperately want it to work. I hate subconsciously looking for you everywhere I go. I hate remembering that your favorite color is blue, that you don’t like sweet foods. I hate thinking about your voice and what made you laugh. I hate knowing that you never looked at me the way I wanted you to. I hate knowing you loved someone else and she loved you too. I hate the relief I felt when you didn’t date her. I hate that I want you. I hate that I miss you. I hate that I love you. 

But I could never hate you. 

I wish I could. I wish I could scream and cry and yell at you. I wish I could tell you exactly how I feel. I wish I hated you instead of myself. 

But I don’t. 

So I’m sorry. 

I love you.