please keep my feet warm

he touches with fire
then disappears
and I turn into ash
so far from the flame
that first sparked his interest
and ignited the fire we set up
on this bed.
but it isn’t enough.
to have all that heat
with none of the
warmth.
it’s not enough
to have both his hands
but none of
his heart.

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planting sunflowers

He was enough
just the way he was
the day he helped me plant my first sunflower
and as if speaking to the child inside me
he told me to not be scared for the worms
as I dug my shovel into the clumps of soil,
putting all their lives in peril.

And I remember smiling at the fact that
we could yell at each other
and then spend the rest of the day’s light
playing in the dirt
together.

saturday night

You get in your bathing suit and go sit in the hot tub. It’s dusk. You bring the new book you bought earlier but don’t read it. Instead you sit there thinking about your dead ex-boyfriend and of how proud he would be if he could see how mature and stable and sober and responsible you’ve become. You start to cry because you miss him, because you feel lonely, because it’s saturday night and you wish you were somewhere else, doing something fun, not sitting here, alone. But what if spilling tears in a hot tub is what your heart needs now? What if this is how you heal? Maybe sitting in silence submerged in water without any substances in your system will finally give you the clarity you’ve been seeking. God knows you tried all the opposites already. God knows you’ve tried to outrun all these thoughts already but you’re never fast enough.

You recline your head back and look up at the now dark sky, sprinkled with stars. You try counting them and get to fifty, unsure if somewhere in there a plane or satellite snuck its way in. Apparently you need glasses now. Still, you see three of the stars that make up the big dipper and that brings you comfort because you remember spotting them in Brazil as a child. Maybe not that much has changed, after all.

When your skin folds in like an old woman’s, you leave the hot tub, shower, and feed yourself popcorn and a frozen entree for dinner as you watch a series about an orphan girl called Anne who is all alone in the world.

It seems appropriate.

Around ten p.m., you drift off to sleep as Anne finds a family and falls in love in the background.

What type of warrior are you?

Another dagger in the heart

You’d think by now that 

I’d have learned how 

to use my shield,

how to wield my sword…

Guess I’m just not

the type of warrior 

who fights off love.