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you moved in your sleep and i wanted something i didn’t understand. it scared me. it scared me how beautiful you looked in your moment of nothing

i will stand in front of god and i will say that i love you. and if that paints us in sin i will hold the brush by myself and ill paint you a portrait and love you in spite of it. i will stand beside you and i will hold your hand as you tell me every story, every part of your history. tell me the parts you are ashamed of. tell me the parts youve never talked about before. when your voice wavers i will not see you different. i will listen. i will love deeply. ill split a pomegranate and pick out every seed myself to prove that love may be messy and it may be tedious but i will love you again and again and again and it will always be easy to do.

i turned off my flashlight so i wouldnt wake you through the crack in the door. i was covered in laundry detergent and wondered if it was poetic because nothing can clean me of this or if it simply meant i ruin myself again and again to be considerate to you. ill keep you awake every night after this, so get the sleep you need tonight. it gets closer every second and it looms over you with no idea of what it could be. it’s everything. we are losing everything

tomorrow i will remove the dagger and watch small shards of glass spill on to the carpeted office floors. tomorrow i will try to watch your face as i break something inside of you and live the rest of my life with you bleeding. im sorry its real. for today, you are oblivious. i told my teacher what id be doing and she cried for me. she said she’ll be thinking of me through the day. i wish you spared a shred of that compassion. are you scared? what are you thinking? there will be blood. i can promise that much. if theres anything between us anyway, its blood

there are two more days until i blow through the windshield and everything is over for us forever. you wrote down your worst fears and i read it like a prophecy. we know that we are impossible, and we know that we will meet at the end of every ending and the corner of every beginning. think of where we are now. think of where we’ve been. imagine what we’ve survived. pull the breaks slow and dont let me see that it hurt you. youll cry quiet at night and ill know. i always know

tell me about when your mother would cook dinner. its cold outside tonight. tell me about the mourning doves outside the window. isnt it funny how all of us die? your neighbor hit your childhood dog and we argued about vultures and cardinals. you say i am an angry dog. its generational. bad litter.

you speak a language to me. you live in the sun. the calamitous sky belongs to you entirely and i am nothing without a streetlight. please dont set in the west tonight. please dont set at all

i wish i didnt kill spiders. i wish i was brave enough to take them outside. at the very least, their death hurts more than my bite. i wish i wasnt afraid to do the right thing. in the cold or in the rain, why would they not come inside with me?

the sun went down. you didnt notice. im sorry you cant love me like july anymore. i want you to fight for something already stolen, if you forget my name keep the moon as a token. the love i gave is yours to keep; take it home with you.

every other writing is about you, but i was told its not possible ill ever get over it in this lifetime. maybe not the next one, either. maybe ill be successful and right and youll still keep me locked in a state of longing for something that could never return. at least in this lifetime i had it. i think of someones hand on your back when they pumped your stomach, i think of your skin and your hair now decomposed. it got so bad i called your mother. i taste charcoal sometimes at night. im reaching endlessly across oceans to never let it happen again, i write words youll never see. i think i write about it so much because i wish, instead, it would happen to me. i hope they at least tried to save you, i need someone else to blame.

marigolds cant grow in december. no one got the childhood they wanted. being loved now doesn’t make it better, id defy the climate if thats what you wanted. id split pomegranates open and converse with every seed, learn hundreds of names and stories. ill try to recite them back to you, but im sure ill forget by the morning. say its for the better until you cant remember why. marigolds cant grow in december. they wont even start before they die.

im not sure why i write for you so much lately when i swore off writing for you at all. i remember when we drove around looking at christmas lights and you were not mean and you were not drunk, you were just who you were. i remember the times that wasnt true. the next time i see you you’ll be dead. i can not poeticize it and i can not write my way around it. i will never see you living again. im not sorry i hated you so much, i think i still do. i just think it might be possible i have a bit of room for something else as well

you asked me to write your eulogy someday but neither of us imagined id make a draft already. i think about you often but i try not to make you human enough so it hurts less. i just miss you. if you asked me when we last talked if i did id tell all about my anger, my violent and persistent hatred. i wait for you to die to finally put that to rest but i know most of all that i miss you. i know you wont live much longer. know that i love you but never make me say it. im sorry you gave up. im sorry i couldn’t stay

november is nearing its end, and the sun has long set since. the train is leaving the station and life will simply pass. here, it is november. it is quiet and cold, it aches yet it never leaves you wounded. by june i wonder what november will mean when it slowly decrypts its message to me. will i want it back? its a sonnet i wont have heard til i can no longer recognize the writing of each word and i will soon long for every gentle wish that writes itself into todays mundane

when the dog learned how to bite it realized anger is just fear on stilts and to bite is to find safety. to sink its teeth through flesh penetrates the layer of its own hurt, and then? then the dog becomes violent. it doesn’t know better, it doesn’t know defensive conversation like it knows offensive action. then everyone points at the mean, bad, misbehaved dog and the dog looks back with a thick layer of fear and says ‘isnt this what i am supposed to do?’. and the teeth sink in again but this time the fear will not falter. you are weak or you are mean, and you must choose. protect yourself, or earn their praise. bite, or get abused.

loveletter2you

Elaine Speirs

i cant tell whats a star and whats a satellite. which version of myself will i meet with tonight? ive been drinking a lot lately, i wonder what is from the sky and what is from a hand. what was born here, and what will soon die, and was created to measure their lives. jupiter was supposed to be a star but it didn’t grow big enough. my mother was supposed to like me, she just doesn’t know her kid enough. what do i have, at the other end? no one, nothing, a poem and a dead friend. you hit a deer on christmas and suddenly i have ruined everything

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