Notes from my phone

APRIL 2017:

I woke up

Holding the marks of your reckless promises on my body

I think you’re beautiful blossomed as bruises on my knees

I’m different imprinted itself as hand marks on my ass

And your teeth, your teeth

Left your opportunistic I love you on my lower lip

*****

APRIL 2017

How do we escape this unscathed

Confess without being honest

Take our clothes off without getting naked

Pull me into your arms, onto your navy blue bed, on top of you without touching me

Stay here while I dissociate

Make it unforgettable as we both start to forget it

Take what you want so we don’t have to talk about desire

Tell me about your mom and your siblings, so we can pretend not to know each other tomorrow.

*****

SEPTEMBER 2017

“Is it supposed to be this hot all summer long.”

Am I supposed to feel the comforting weight of your arms around me weeks after we reluctantly peeled ourselves apart.

How can I still inhale the warmth of your chest long after we left the bed.

Why do you still linger on me, your touch and your sweat, after cycles and cycles of showers have washed my days away.

Your night is still a quiet hum casting its long shadow onto me.

I still can fade into the dawn that we silently watched climb over the Cascades through that window next to the bed.

Can you come back into the space in the sheets that I still leave for you.

You have the warmest of the cold hands I’ve let grip my insides, I arch into and away from that destructive promise.

****

APRIL 2018

We still wake up

But wrapped in each other

And I easily drooled on your arm.

The same sun touches us

But this time together

This time your touch is soft

You allow it to be part of me

Tending to the empty parts of me

Not looking for return on investment

Not looking for the power you know you have over me

You have this power

And I’ve told you

Just like every other person in this bed

Who has greedily grabbed and pulled at the threads of this emptiness I can’t help but wear on my sleeve

But this time, we’ve filled ourselves;

We fit each other.

I ease off that camouflage kit you carry, 60 pounds around your torso, protecting and suffocating both of us at the same time

And you see me.

And I let you.