Welcome to
English as a Second Language,
you probably have no idea that you are in,
English as a Second Language,
do not worry
one day
you will master all of these foreign sounds
maybe even become poet
perform English on a stage
like you were born of this
let them be shocked to find out
that you were not born of this
but look how well you learned
how natural you sound
like damn,
you don’t even have an accent.
Be proud.

So proud
that you become ashamed
your parents’ English
is laced in still learning
please keep them at
home
while all the other kids snag rides
have their parents in the stands
you bus
serve volleyballs
and run countless laps on the track
alone.
You will not learn
of this shame
until all of these things you have
outgrown.

This class
will teach you
assimilate
absorb
you will learn nothing of
different
of hold on to your roots
that accent
is...

If there aren’t 19 cops standing in the hallway
to hear bullets tear through youthful flesh
we wonder
do the children’s screams still make a sound?

If we close down the grounds after 60 bodies drop
rename it
“community center”
will the people gather again?

If we blame mental illness
enough times for everyone to believe it
will there be any less shots fired?

How many mothers should be held responsible?
Why aren’t the fathers speaking up?

How many signs till we follow the post
down to its roots
and find them tangled in every reason?

Dear Frontier,

I have packed a backpack and mentally labeled that thing personal item even when it is clearly,
carry-on
especially after books, journals, and pens filled its core
my just-in-case shit
but that Frontier shit gives me some crazy anxiety shit
not gunna lie shit
baggage fees make me a liar.

The too honest girl you know turns super sly
scarf to cover backpack straps
last flight I calculated if it was worth it
how much online vs. at the gate
figured I’d take the chance
and I did
caught window seat
(like every fucking time I don’t know who is still paying to pick but stop)
caught window seat
threw backpack in the overhead compartment
though the space wasn’t mine
but Frontier can go fuck a duck
and fly one home
that airline is a gamble of take off late or cancellations
if they’re taking their chance with me I’ll take it back
write poems on their tiniest little...

I invite you to love

your big toe
and that small one
with the tiniest little nail
you don’t know why you bother painting it
but you do
don’t want any of you

left out

I invite you to love
your imperfect skin
the part you still tear at in the mirror
every scar that reminds you of the times lost
to seeking perfection
and ending up ten steps behind

I invite you love
the parts of you that show up
even though often late
and those parts of you that never make it

I invite you to love
that part of you that still struggles to trust self
still sees self as enemy
cannot cradle self’s wounds in the care you always deserved

I invite you to love
that part of you that gets stuck in the grocery aisle
leaves empty handed because
you couldn’t decide between crunchy and smooth
and love
the hungry part of you that regrets it later
wishes you could just choose

I invite you to...

The sun fell for the moon
but it seemed the timing was wrong.
Heat sinking into land
they all aligned to say goodbye
and he arrived to light the darkening sky
but it was always
too late.

I am reminded of how he said I was his light
we
a perfect balance
but always on separate pages
me
grateful to at least be reading the same book.

I asked if I could paint for him
he wanted dark
I think how that’s all I know
but am stopped
in crossing a boundary that we never made clear.
Afraid it may be
too much this time
and so I’ve learned to keep quiet
to keep art close to my bones
until it explodes.

He says, “poor thing,”
he worries about how long I let myself suffer
he says, “come to me sooner,”
but I’m always afraid I’ll bring darkness he doesn’t want
to hang on the bare walls of his apartment

When I feel the loneliest
I turn my phone off so I can pretend
there is real...

When I approached you as onion
bruised but somehow sweet
still somehow fresh
I wondered
how many layers to your core
so you told me the truth
but it wasn’t
so you told me the truth
but it wasn’t
so you told me the truth
and now
I stand inside of you
peering through rib cage as prison
wondering how much healing until I can get to the outside
and it’s not normal
that your stories became my burden
like father, and brother, and brother
and mother whom I rarely am able to look in the eye
I see how much her back has carried
and it’s not normal
and when you speak to me
I can only find truth so comical now
it is the only way to rattle these ribs
create enough space
make my escape
so I may once again approach onion
turn around as I find
it is not my job to peel, to chop, to cook
I am woman
but now so woman that I kneel before them
wrap scarves around their necks
as she...

I learned the best way to enjoy my day
Was to make sure you did
Make sure we walked so much your pace slowed
And matched mine
That I had to continuously check that you were still there
And that my hand wasn’t holding onto nothing
Until my hand was behind my back pleading that you hurry up
I fake jog for you
Just to make sure it’s still in you to run
It is
You always save some of yourself for when if it’s needed later
My best days
Are the days I make promises to you that you can’t understand but I follow through anyway
Tell you we are going to the trail that day and now we have to
I don’t want you to not trust me to keep my word
So we end up at the trail often
Even when I don’t want to
I can’t imagine what it ever meant for you to be lied to
To be told love you forever but take you to cages
Sign you in and walk away
I wonder if they’ve ever looked into your eyes and saw how you...

We were always
haunted house
always illusion
couldn’t trust our eyes
in what was real
you
were never more real
than the space your fantasy
took inside my head
now I
live inside your head
I have made your bones a home
I
am creaking floor boards
slamming kitchen cabinets shut
who is crazy now
if not you?
look
how you wish you never met me
fuck them like you can fuck yourself out of me
shake yourself an exorcism
only left head spinning 180
turn around and I still stand
watch me
carve my ghost into your bones
make blanket of your flesh
and in those fleeting moments
when I leave you
you’ll only feel the cold
wonder where the breeze has come from
only to find out it is your own
old love
you have kept me eyes glued open countless nights
I have cried
my body dry
now
I have made your body home
bury you
and together
we will rot our bones

It is September
nearing October
nearing November

I am afraid.

I am afraid to spend the holidays alone.
My friends invite me to their families’ holidays.

I am more afraid
to feel more alone at my friends’ holidays.

It is September.

4 of this year’s 12 months
remain undocumented
everyday
is a wish for tomorrow to be over sooner.

My friends still call.

I don’t always pick up for my friends.

Don’t always answer honestly when people ask how I’m doing.

It is fine and okay and okay and okay
until I am crying when someone reads a poem about depression
until I feel more heard in that poem than I feel heard by my friends.

When that poem called I picked up.
Went on stage later like nothing ever happened.

I know how to dress depression well.

Until I am alone again.
Until I am driving home again looking at windshield through tear blurred eyes
this is now common occurrence...

my recovery date
is everyday that I open my eyes
and choose to get out of bed

it is everyday I open my eyes
and stay another hour
another hour
another hour

it is alarm clocks
and snoozes

it is everyday
I survive

it is nighttime
when I rest my head on my pillow

my recovery date
is not calendar marked

isn’t 472 and counting
isn’t
starting back at 0

it is every 0 and
all of the days before that

it isn’t what I put in this body
isn’t what this body spits back

isn’t shame laced single digits
or pride laced decades

it has nothing to do with
drinks
nothing to do with drugs

it has everything to do
with still showing-up
little to do with
show and tell

and everything to do with
trying again
and again
and again