Qualities of a Lover

call me a gift

tie me up in ribbon and present me to your family

tell them how you bought me with your wit

how this sale is final

and I will never be re-gifted


call me your angel

pin wings on my back

teach me how to fly

and show me what it feels like to fall after the high


call me the morning sun

soak up the rays that pierce through my heart

feel the radiating heat between the sheets

and the way my hands curve up your sun-soaked spine


call me a breath of fresh air

fill up your lungs with my perfume

let them expand and collapse with Chanel

so that I may always be with you when you breathe


stockholm syndrome

All the years I’ve spent trying to protect my heart and soul, I realize now that I have been only keeping it in a cage—I have malnourished my heart and now that it’s reached a point of vulnerability, it is crippling and hungry.

I imagine opening my chest to only find an overwhelming container of tender love. I can feel my chest expanding in every way possible with the energetic love I have within me. My chest expands and I can feel the heat building up—I am burning from the inside out.

I have so much beautiful love, but nobody wants what I have to offer. I am always too much.


do you ever look at a person, and instantly feel like you’re drowning?

you look at them, and suddenly you lose your breath and you can’t seem to find the words for a reply?

do you ever watch a person when they talk about their passions?

watching how their body language changes, the tone in their voice, widening of their eyes, how their entire soul changes when they talk about what they love

do you ever think about the short expansion of time we have been given?

how life is so short-lived and we spend the whole time worrying about what we have to do, and what we didn’t say or do. who we didn’t kiss, or did. the fears building up before a single moment.

do you remember how it felt when you were at your loneliest?

the gut feeling of rejection, the fist that punched you through the chest. the heat building up underneath your eyes, you felt like a thousand suns had taken over your body. you felt so overwhelmed, you didn’t know what to do with yourself without that other person.

do you ever think about me?

i think of the time when i traced my name on your chest with my fingertips. do you think of the moment when you realized i was not the one you wanted?

what does intimacy mean to you?

some people imagine it as a purely sexual experience. i place intimacy on a separate, more coveted, pedestal than sex. intimacy is the feeling of his hands on my skin, feeling every curve, and getting to know every part of my body. it is the the feeling of his fingertips tracing my hips up and down. it is the sound of his voice whispering in my ear.

how do you feel when you think about how massive this galaxy is?

the sheer size of this galaxy is overwhelming, and it is unmeasurable. the galaxy is massive and more than any of us can handle, and so are you.

who do you think of when you think of beauty?

do you think of yourself? another person? the person you’re currently talking to? do you feel the need to prove to them that you are a beautiful person?

i know that this is hard, and he is very beautiful. but so are you, do not live your life trying to prove that to him.

these are the questions that run through my head every day. i ask myself these questions, and i still feel the need to ask more and more until i understand myself better.

my soul is expanding. i am growing a garden within this body. roses and sunflowers are blooming up into my chest. my heart is surrounded by growth.

the thorns of the roses pierce my stomach as they bloom taller and more beautiful. my soul is made up of roses and sunflowers; i am both beauty and pain.

— growing pains

starry night

stars light up the sky

becoming a colony of love

i’ve never seen so many stars

under the same sky before

my neck extends and i can’t stop

imagining my soul becoming covered

in stars, i cannot stop imagining my soul

as a star. there’s a myth that every

star in the sky represents a soul

i wonder what collection of stars my soul

is made up of

— my soul is meant to be admired

ocean eyes

i am standing at a great precipice between

the ocean and a river of my own blood

the ocean looks so inviting and


i am drawn to its depth

i know that i will fall

drown and

die if i step off this precipice into the

abyss but it is more appealing than

standing in the river of my own blood

for another four years

— your eyes make me feel like i’m drowning

you were the last person in my life to touch me

your hands created a rippling hurricane that

destroyed any kind of hope i had for the future


you were the person that set the curve for what

love is supposed to be like, you have painted the

image of love in my mind in thick red and black

acrylic paint


i chipped off the red and black

i repainted the walls of my mind in yellow and blue

i destroyed the curve you set and created my own

standards of love and i made it a self-portrait


when i think of you, i no longer feel the longing

i no longer feel trapped i don’t feel your hands on

me anymore searching for more than i was ready

to give


i finally have lungs to breathe

a heart that beats

and hands that no longer feel like yours


i am free from your grasp

free to feel again

to experience life without the

fear of you bumping into me

along the way


i am no longer your prisoner


–  thank you for setting me free

Meet me between the bookshelves, between fiction and the poetic writings of Emily Dickinson. Meet me where my love resides, where my fingers run over spines, and yours run over mine. My love lives between these bookshelves, my soul is immortalized with every breath these stories breathe. Walk me through the poetry of Dylan Thomas, where he warns us to not go gentle into the good night. I sit between the bookshelves looking for you with my thumb and finger, feeling the edges you’ve tried to mend, folding over the stories I want to revisit. You are a story to be experienced by all the senses.

We disappear between the white cotton sheets of our bed like we do between the bookshelves. My head rests on your chest while your heart beats with the rhythm of poetry pumping blood through your arteries. I write poetic lines about your lips and the way they feel against my thighs. I write how your lips look when you take a drag from the flame, and how they part when you exhale the smoke.

— the day i met you was the day i found my freedom

you are uncomfortable

seeking to find a greater truth

than the one you’ve come to

learn, trying to find

comfort in


you are afraid

trying to learn how to see light

in the darkness, aware of

the unknown, you search for


or someone, to protect you

you are alone

searching for someone to

help you realize your

irrational fear of

large windows,

where people can see your every


feeling, and

desire. you are waiting for someone

to pull down the blinds, and

disappear inside your mind with you

you are strong

there is not a thing you couldn’t

handle, conquering all the

obstacles you’ve placed

in front of yourself, there is

no sense of failure

you are fearless

unafraid of the unknown,

you look straight through the dark,

walking endlessly, you

do not look back in fear of

forgetting something along the way

you are complete

with no need of someone to

pull down the blinds, hiding you

away from the world

the large windows in your mind

shine the light in, and

you are bright without

irrational fear of


so open up the blinds,

you are to be shared with the world

— i am multidimensional


The waves bow in the presence of the moon, he is gentle in her presence; calm and still.

The moon listens to her lovers sounds, the sounds of him crashing at her mercy.

The waves send a message to the lonely moon, asking her when she will return to him.

“Come meet me, my love,” he whispers. She calls back to him, “if only if only.”

The waves kiss the earth she brightens up, crying out “please come back home to me.” The moon smiles in response, “if only if only.”

— my love for you is like the stillness of the lake