THINGS I SHOULD HAVE NEVER TOLD YOU.

1. Be present with me really quick

Put down the numbing that makes our conversations

Sound like gasping for air

And holding in coughs

I want you to try to breathe through the discomfort

Of being loved for just a moment

To humor the idea that this might be magic

And you might be stubborn enough to miss out on it

2. Let me be your mirror for a couple of months

Just 2 months of seeing your reflection

Dance in iris that isn’t your own

And by the end if you’re not the most beautiful being on the planet

I will blink

And neither of us have to look at you ever again

And this isn’t the vanity that you’re used to

I don’t care for the outer shell

That you spent years crafting out of skin

And dumbbells

I mean let me show you how my inner child

Puts her glow in the dark hula hoops around yours

And holds your hands

Tells you that this is the land

And outside of this circle is ocean

So, we don’t have to leave

Until we grow gills and fins

To make home out of the ocean too

Just two months

3. What I really wanted to do was give you a book for your birthday

Not a copy of bodies I counted

Over years of trauma

Putting tears in a tea cup

To drink enough inspirations

To write poems about the men that broke me

But 26 chapters of how I wouldn’t trade a blemish on your skin

For anything perfect

Because you are infinite

I wrote about the ways you dance

When you’re in joy

Or the silence when you’re in your head

Or even the smoke clouds above your lip

That takes your smile with them

I wrote about the ways you held me

Pulled me into your arms when I folded myself

Into paper thin to slip out

Afraid that your grip was accidental

I wrote about how immigrant kids share the stories of ancestors

And the trauma of having to be better

Than the whips, chains, and backhand slaps that raised us

I wrote about hugging a child

Who probably spent nights awake

Away from the dreams that invited the terror

Of seeing the devil before the age of 5

I wrote so much that my hand took vacations from my body

And I’ve only recently gotten them back

4. I heard everything you’ve ever told me

And I carry you like family history in my bones

5. I listen to the things that you’re only brave enough to say

Through metaphor

The things that you make better

By making them rhyme

I listen

I listen so much that your poems rest on my shadow

Like incantations

Meant to bring back non-living things

6. I didn’t mean to fall for you

I’m just a little clumsy

7. I fell for you

Even after you told me not to

And Mann I wish I wasn’t so bullheaded

But you spread malignantly through me

And I found myself Venus

The goddess and planet of love

Dancing around a fucking moon

Asking it to see me back

8. I know you don’t want it but here’s my heart anyways

9. I wonder if you miss me sometimes

10. I pray for you more than I pray for myself

I will write your name on God’s frontal lobe

So, he never forgets you

11. I delete your number every damn day

So, I don’t check on you

Because I always want to check on you

12. I wish I shut up about us

Cause then I could hurt my own feelings in private

13. I don’t believe anything anyone that isn’t you

Tells me about you.

14. You make me want to exist….

Every time I want to disappear

Into this maze of surreal

Where everything melts

Including sunshine

I say your name

And get back into my skin

15. I think you’re kind of an asshole

Cause I think you know all of this already

You just choose to look the other way

16. I’m sorry for running you away

And if you ever see or hear this poem

I’m sorry in advance for having written it

Cause sometimes I don’t know how to shut up

I babble

My heart has a life of its own

I’m sorry that I stole the mystery from you

Im sorry that I healed enough to be honest

I’m sorry for knowing in my soul

That this would surpass the beauty of everything

If you were just brave enough to give it a try

I’m sorry for wanting to try

I’m sorry that nothing you’ve said or done

Have done the deed

Of sending me to hiding

I’m sorry that I’ll probably read this to you at some point

With tears burning the flesh off of my face

I’m sorry that I can’t be both myself and beautiful

I’m sorry that I miss you

I’m sorry that your laughter is water

I’m sorry that I want to learn your grandfather’s African name

And his story

I’m sorry that I want you so bad

That I’d take anything that you come with

I’m sorry that you don’t see you how I do

I’m sorry that I’m not sorry

But I am sorry for feeling dumb

Cause love is never logical

Reality is the stupid one

I’m sorry that you’re a dream I don’t want to wake up from

I’m sorry for stupid gender roles

I’m sorry you can’t write me a poem like this

I’m sorry

17. I know what I deserve

I know that I am the sun

But you’re the only planet I want in my orbit

I know what I deserve

But I want you…

I knew from the first gap toothed smile

18. I know you’re not used to being wanted like this

So forgive me for being the person

That breaks boundaries

And ceilings made of stone

Just so you can hear home

In the cracks of my lungs

19. I think that you’re the sky

In its bluest

20. Refer to number 7

And the 19 ways I just said I love you

By swallowing the very words.