Things to Say

A writing project


You get lonely
it seeps into your blood
in the afternoon
and by night
it has taken you completely.
You want for anyone
to touch your skin
and tell you it is

I don’t get lonely
the same way
I would rather make dinner
for just myself
and spend the night alone
but god when I think of
your skin.
I remember that home
used to be your arms
and now
it is only a cold apartment
empty since your leaving.


Even now,
there are parts of my heart that belong to you.
And they never feel better.


I have an essay to write
but I can’t stop thinking about
the trip we took up north
to the town where every shop
was an antique shop
and how you held my hand
walking up and down the streets
not whining at all
when I would pull you into store
after store.
There was an art show in town
and we went inside a few of the places
but there was only one piece
I really liked
I can’t remember it now,
but I think it had something to do
with nakedness.
Can’t you feel how much
I am missing you?

This is me trying.

I have a friend who doesn’t quite say
I love you back
instead, it’s
the feeling is mutual
and sometimes that sits strangely in my chest.

Ask me how was your day?
and I will say
I didn’t call him
that’s as much as I can muster.

Your words echo.
They fell, angry
and I am filling in the craters
but the work is slow.

So I’ve decided to write an actual book.

To my Grandmother


As a woman,
you are strong, opinionated,
driven, thoughtful, intelligent
and all the other adjectives it took so long
for the world to see in women.
More than any other human I know,
you are governed by a deep sense
or right and wrong.
You give me hope,
that the world can still be changed
by the determined.

As a mother,
you are the goddess Durga.
Unstoppable, wise,
and endlessly loving.
Your patience continually leaves me in awe,
your grace gives me something to aspire to,
and your humor in all challenges
has taught me how to keep afloat.

As a grandmother,
you are a gift.
You gave me my only steady home,
a relationship with cousins I will have a lifetime,
a perspective on the world I will always return to.

I have many women who love me,
and many who impress me,
who I respect, and admire.
But of all these women,
it’s you I wish to emulate most.


You had a shitty day,
(that would qualify as better
than many peoples’ best)
so you come home
and drink a beer or 7
and listen to some melancholy music
and you try to tell your head
your heart felt alive this morning.
But you shut down when he left
at 1
and he was right,
you can’t do it on your own.
You’re making everyone else
hold you up.


I wear a charm
with the initial of my sister.
I bear a scar
no one was around to stop me from making.
I have 200 freckles on the side of my face,
that a lover once counted.
There is a yellow bruise on my breast
I don’t remember getting.

You left two months ago
and my body doesn’t miss you.


I got bored
and sad
so I painted my face
but I was still lonely
when I looked in the mirror.

I tried to smoke
the melancholy away.
But the smoke only helped it
to get stuck in my lungs.

The drugs
were supposed to
gut out the decaying parts
of my wretched soul.
But I am the body
they open for surgery
and find there is too much cancer
for cleansing
to make any difference.


I’ve given you
all of my second chances.
I don’t have any forgiveness
left for myself.

Everything about you was spring.

Closing statements

300 mg a day (a conversation with myself)


I’m sick.

Are you?

I wanted to die two months ago
and I couldn’t let go of the thought
and the scars on my arm won’t let me forget it.

We all get down.
We all get bad.
This world is fucked up
and it’s okay to not want a part of it.

What about the times
I can’t slow down?
When I have no filter
when I believe I am better
than everyone else?

We all get a little cocky sometimes.

But then there’s the times
I believe it’s all my fault
it’s all within my power
and I failed.
I am bad.

You can learn
not to blame yourself.
We all have lessons to learn.

They told me that I am sick
6 years ago
and things have gotten better
since the meds.

You don’t know who you are without them
or what they’ve done to you.
Don’t you know we all have ups and downs
that we all feel crazy sometimes?
Bipolar is just a name they gave your personality
and everyone has one of those
whether it can be found in a textbook
or not.

I can’t go off my meds
without a doctor’s permission
but I don’t have one of those right now.
I slipped through the cracks.
And I can’t sleep without the pills

You will learn.
We all learn.
It’s your god damn body
and your god damn life.
There’s no cure for being who you are
and you’ve got to stop looking for one.

A goodbye poem


There’s a lot
that you gave me.
Like how you started my life
over again, when I believed
there would always be a piece of me
that was dead.
And how you showed me
there is no end to the number of things
you can love about a person,
how there will never stop being new ones.

You taught me
that sometimes taking care of a person
looks like dragging them up the hill
they refuse to climb and kissing clean
their wounds until they are ready
to do it for themselves.

You gave me back my ability
to love myself when you loved
me through my episodes
holding my head to your chest
until the demons passed
and when I tried to apologize
for their coming at all
you would only tell me
you loved me.

But mostly,
you showed me what bravery
looks like.
That most times it doesn’t look like a prince,
but like a man who breaks his hands
to free them from their shackles
and other times
it looks like watching a peacock
unfurl it’s feathers.

If I am any kind of strong
it is because you carried my weight
long enough for me to remember
I was strong enough to hold it.
They say a soul mate
is someone that makes you grow
and I think it’s true.
This is me saying just because
you couldn’t love me the way I needed
doesn’t mean you didn’t love me
better than I have ever been loved.