sunlightdances on my skinlike fingertipsfeetrooting in the earth as she whispersyou are readeven though it hurts--blooming

I go through my days quietlytrying not to make wavesbut one whisper creates ripples in the sleeping seadon't make a sound I saytoo lateit's awake--tsunami

You do not get to pick and choosethe parts of me that you loveas if you're picking petals from a flowerlove melove me notlove thisnot thatthrowing the down on the grass while I'm askingdo you love medo you love medo you love me yetby the time you are done pulling at the corethere is nothing left for you to love anymore

How was I supposed to knowthat slamming doors was saying goodbyeyou did it all the time and he still let you homehow was I to know that your lovewas not a map to follow

My spine is made of stemsgrowing flowers from my ribswrapping around my neck andholding my head highwearing this crown of butterflies

here's the thing about wildflowersthey take root wherever they aregrow strong through the wind, rain, pain, sunshine, blue skies and starless nightsthey dance, even when it seems there is nothing worth dancing forthey bloomwith or without you

End of summer comes falling like a waterfall of midnight starsand I'm crawling out of thisnymphal skeletonleaving you like cicada do

Today I will be gentle to her like I'm growing a garden from my hips and I'll speak love spells over her as if I'm watering her with my lips*to myself