Pristine

This week was heavy

It sat on my chest like an iceberg

Slowly melting into hot, sticky grief

I think loving me must be messy

Because as much as I try to

Pull it together

Wipe my face

Wash my hair

Put pants on

It always comes seeping out

It oozes from my pores

And I can’t help but think

Of your pristine white shirt

Searching

I am always trying to explain
How much I love you
I am always trying to crack this
Invisible code
And I am looking up new words
And I am sorting out new meanings
For the old ones
But nothing is making sense
Nothing is as pure, as concentrated
As the feeling I get
When you touch my lips
When you lose your guard
When you protest beautiful
To my overwhelming no
When three words don’t even begin
To sum up the feeling I feel
For the very first time
What am I to do but search
My endless mind

Poetry about the sun

I used to grow away from sunlight
Like the warmth would hurt
My sallow bones
Like those purest beams of gold
Would scorch my open soul
I used to hide away from warmth
Like darkness was a cloak
Against the wear and tear
Of being spoon fed gold
I used to shun myself from brightness
Like cold corners were enough
Under bed sheets not my own
I would close my eyes
Deep in stolen lust
I would shield myself from beams
Like I could live inside delusion
Like lack of sustenance were cure for
Loving shadows like a man
Until you kicked up my surroundings
My flower bed of dust
You held my cracked and bruising stem and pallid skin so gently
I couldn’t feel that you were fixing
Me until it was done
You changed my colors
I am green and brand new
And rose red and pink with passions
That I never knew
And you were nothing like dirt
Or pain or darkness
You were blue
Like skies
And never ending waters
And I am growing into you